Amusing Date

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How many years has it been? One and a half? Two maybe? I don't know. I lost count ever since I joined HOMRA and finished high school. HOMRA took me under their wing and guided me down the road to a loving family. I spend most of my time with them now. Well, maybe with one person more often than the rest.

"Hey (y/n). Yatagarasu has something to ask you," Rikio announces, interrupting me from reading.

"Oh?"

Rikio pulls out a blushing vanguard, pushing him towards me.

"Hey! I was going to ask her eventually!"

"Sure you were, you big chicken. Bawk bawk! Bawk bawk bawk," Rikio teases, walking off.

I laugh. "So what did you want to ask me?"

Yata looks at me then looks to the wooden floor boards of HOMRA. "Do you..." he mumbles, trailing off.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you," I state.

"Do you wan..." he trails off again.

His face is flushed red. I stare at my hard headed boyfriend smirking slightly.

"Screw this shit..." he mutters. He inhales deeply, shutting his eyes. "Do you wanna go to the amusement park with me?"

I stare at him waiting for him to make eye contact with me. He looks at me with a surprised look. But that soon melds into a deep crimson.

"W-Why aren't you say anything," he asks.

The air around him becomes awkward. His hazel eyes dart around nervously. He rubs the back of his neck.

"Yo-You're gonna say no aren't you..." he stutters, looking a bit blue.

I burst out laughing. Yata snaps his head towards me, gazing at me with a shocked look.

"H-Hey! What's so funny?!"

"Your-Your face," I reply, a laughing mess.

His face goes flush. "I-It's not funny! I'm serious!"

"I know! I know! I'll go!"

"Why are you laughing then- Wait. You'll go," he asks, his composure back.

I nod. "Of course. When are we going?"

"Tomorrow, if that's okay. It's a twenty percent discount," the twenty year old explains.

"Okay. I'll let my parents know."

"Yes! I'll pick you up at ten," he says, walking away.

I smile, going back to drawing.

The day is here. I gaze at my appearance in the mirror, admiring the look to my clothes. My shirt is a light grey with red text written on it. It says "Bad Girl." My pants are black joggers with two white stripes going down the sides.

"Should I...?" I inquire, debating whether to put makeup on or not.

I shrug, strolling to the bathroom in my white socks. I do my usual morning routine, just leaving my (h/l) hair down. I open up one of the drawers. There sits a stick of red lipstick. I snatch it up, applying it to my very basic lips.

"Damn. How do girls wear this everyday," I mumble.

I stroll out of the bathroom, heading to my room to pick up my phone and wallet. After I grab my stuff and shove it into a small backpack, I head to the kitchen to eat a little something. At the small dinner table sits my dad. He has a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Morning, dad."

"Morning, sweety. How did you sleep," he asks, looking up to me.

"I slept fine," I reply, taking a yogurt out of the fridge.

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