Mitsuki

Just because you worked together didn't mean you had to agree on everything. You and Mitsuki knew this well. The number of tantrums she's thrown over your calls is countless, even when she knows you're in the right. Her pride was almost worse than the enemies you faced.

It's another day after school. The hum of unintelligible conversation and the warmth of student bodies surround the two of you. Walking home together, Mitsuki slows as a brightly-colored ad catches her attention.

As Mitsuki gazes at the flyer carefully taped around a streetlamp, you can hear her stomach rumble.

A specialty crepe truck was rolling through the neighborhood for a limited time, and at prices that a middle schooler could easily afford. Drool barely starts to leak out of Mitsuki's lips before she wipes her mouth with the back of her uniform sleeve, leaving a small wet stain.

The second she opens her mouth to rope you into a new scheme of hers, Mitsuki's locket buzzes around her neck, signaling a new round of monsters to fight somewhere in the area. Duty calls yet again.

Mitsuki lets out a low groan, immediately ripping the necklace off as she shoves it into the depths of her school bag. The locket continues humming, the sound muffled yet obvious, begging her attention.

Rolling back her shoulders with a sigh, she quickly beams at you, trying to pretend as though nothing ever happened.

"Come on, monsters can wait, y'know?" She tries to shoot you her best puppy-dog eyes. They're not great; she's straining so much that the vessels in her eyes look like they're about ready to burst.

Unfortunately for Mitsuki, whining and squirming don't do much to make a strong case.

"Bad guys are forever. Specialty crepes are a once-in-a-lifetime-only experience!" she cries, stomping her little feet. Her whinging only gets louder and louder, drawing the attention of a few passersby. You catch a few people whispering about a 'lover's quarrel.'

Eyes narrowing, her tone grows more conspiratorial as she leans in to whisper, "Listen, I'll even treat you to one of their cinnamon banana crepes. Sounds good, right?"

You were born special. You just didn't know it. That's how it always went, right? An ordinary, average person goes about their life until someone pops up to tell them they're the long-lost child of a fallen kingdom, a brave knight reincarnated into the modern world, or... or whatever.

At the end of the day, it didn't matter what you were. All that mattered was you and how different and unique you were compared to everyone else.

Memories of a past life spent blazing trails of war through a kingdom of stars burn in the back of your mind. You can remember every detail in vivid color: the battles you fought, the bonds you forged, the nobles you faithfully served. A birthmark in the middle of your chest, shaped perfectly like a star, did nothing but reinforce this fantasy.

A childhood fantasy taken a bit too far, that's all it was.

Silly little daydreams have no place in life; you learned that the hard way. The whimsy that you had as a child burned out just like a shooting star, bright yet fleeting, a feeling impossible to recreate.

The earth turns. The sun dips down across the horizon. It's another dull, everyday day for you. It was time to go home and trudge through another day all over again, until... Until what? The train station feels lonely and empty despite the warmth of its crowds.

Flipping open your phone, you recheck the time. Your train was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. A late train wasn't unheard of, but it was still weird. What was even more bizarre was the company you were keeping: a lone girl fidgeting more and more with every passing second.

Mitsuki hisses between clenched teeth, battling obvious annoyance. The star-shaped locket around her neck floats, yanking her forward and attempting to pull her towards you, or more accurately, to the space right above your heart.

"That's weird..." she murmurs, trying to catch the locket with fluttering and clumsy hands. Mitsuki makes a point of not looking at you, too embarrassed to breach any semblance of eye contact. "It's never acted like this before."

Your little sister has always been spoiled. Being the baby of the family, born weak and sickly, it's like it was written in the stars for her to always be the center of attention. Tender, loving care brought her back from the brink and made her stronger, but was it worth it for an underdeveloped brat of a little sister?

Mitsuki bursts through the door after a long day out, her school bag slung over one shoulder, creating a fuss as various cutesy charms clink together loudly. She slams the door behind her with an unexpected amount of force, barely glancing in your direction as she slips her shoes out in the genkan.

Plonking her bag down with a thud in the entryway, she fishes out a small star-shaped locket under her collar, checking it absentmindedly for scratches. Satisfied with the lack of wear, she slides into her slippers: fuzzy, pink, and sooo totally cute.

"Home!" she announces, barely acknowledging your presence. Her voice rings throughout the house like a small bell, bouncing off each and every wall and making your brain tingle.

She strides past you, heading to the kitchen without missing a beat. "I'm starving!" she declares. "You didn't eat my pudding like last time, did you? Swear to God, if you touched it—"

The threat trails off into a disgruntled mumble as Mitsuki rummages through the fridge, emerging victorious with the prized pudding cup. She peels off the lid and plops onto the couch with a pomf. Her sour expression softens as she takes her first spoonful, her eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction.

"What?" With another glance at you, Mitsuki's face contorts into a snarl not befitting of a sweet little sister. "Anything you wanna confess before I finish this?"

There was one trait you learned about your new enemy, the very one that threatened to crumble the foundation of the Lord of Shadows' empire: Twinkling Doll Miru Miru was absolutely, profoundly, genuinely stupid.

You've been scouting the areas she's been patrolling, watching as she stumbled flat on her face, bumbling through the different enemies sent her way. It was by pure luck and brute force that she was still alive.

Much to your chagrin, she'd repeatedly gotten the best of you, and you had the scars to prove it. Just what kind of magic did Lepus give this girl?

It was time for a different approach. If you couldn't get the best of her in battle, you'd just have to catch her unaware. Her secret identity wasn't so secret when she constantly ran her mouth about it.

You've prepared enough for the next scheme ahead: school.

It was easy enough to go undercover. Humans were simple; they'd eat up any story you told them without question. You trusted the Lord of Shadows' magic enough to keep your glamour up.

As the principal shows you through the winding halls of the school, you can sense Mitsuki's presence more vividly the closer you get; the shining star lodged in her heart beckons you to rip it out of her chest, to feel the warmth of it flutter in your hands.

Strolling into the classroom, following after the principal, Mitsuki barely glances up from the latest issue of a shoujo manga. Her eyes scan over the melodrama that fills each page, flipping hungrily for more sugary love confessions and clandestine affairs. She's sprawled across her desk, her school uniform skirt riding up slightly more than what would be deemed appropriate.

She snorts in amusement at a particularly cheesy line, arguing whether any boy at this school could muster such eloquence and charm! Ah, if only she could have such a star-crossed romance...

The principal clears his throat, catching the attention of the homeroom teacher and, by extension, the rest of the class. Mitsuki peers up from her manga, cutting off one love-struck fantasy and immediately replacing it with another.

Her teacher shuffles out of the way, allowing you a spot in front of the podium to introduce yourself. All eyes are on you, but you can feel a special someone's gaze nail hard onto you.

You can almost see the cartoon hearts pop above Mitsuki's head. Internally, she's already crafting a narrative where you see something special in her, something none of the other idiots here could possibly understand. Her mind races with possibilities, each more girlish and pathetic than the last.

Mitsuki waits just long enough for your eyes to scan the room and settle on her—because, of course, you would—before flipping her hair over one shoulder, beaming a sweet, practiced smile your way.

This might be easier than you thought.

Your mind could barely piece together how such a pure being could exist— at least, that's what Mitsuki hoped you were thinking. The twinkle and charm of magical girls was always exciting, but nothing could compare to the real deal in front of you.

In the middle of an alley stands you and the girl who just saved your life: Twinkling Doll Miru Miru. You've seen pictures of her pop onto your feed: grainy, blurry images that flashed across your screen just as quickly as you saw them.

Mitsuki closes her eyes with a flick of her wand and a triumphant twirl and chants a practiced mantra under her breath. The monsters around her shimmer, their forms warping and twisting, before they dissipate into inky black smoke, revealing the forms of unconscious, unharmed citizens, ignorant of the creatures they just turned into.

With a sigh, Mitsuki appraises her work with a wistful grin, lolling her head against her shoulder and cracking her neck.

She straightens out the sailor skirt of her magical girl uniform, double-checking herself for any spilled blood staining her perfect visage. Satisfied, she turns her attention back to you, the victim she just oh-so-graciously saved.

"How was that? Pretty great, huh?" she asks with no small amount of pride in her voice. In Mitsuki's mind, she's not just a magic-wielding savior; she's a star deserving every bit of praise and adoration you have to offer.

Mitsuki crosses her arms, tapping a foot impatiently, expecting some sort of praise or admiration. Her sour look is barely restrained; she's clearly not used to anything less than awe. "Well, come on! Spit it out already. How amazing was I? And no lies—I can tell if you're faking it!" Her tone suggests she's more than ready to accept any form of worship your flabbergasted self can muster up right now.