the pictures we paint in our hearts all show the same place

"Huh? A date?" Nozomi had looked up at Nico with a raised brow, then blinked three consecutive times, the same way one would react upon being approached in a foreign language. In return, Nico frowned, fingers combing through her mussed hair in the hopes of straightening it.

"That's not that weird, is it? We're already doing stuff like this."

Though it hadn't occurred to Nozomi to see things that way, presented with that reasoning, she found it hard to dispute. No, it wasn't that weird, was it? It was almost funny that she'd never thought that before.

So it was only a moment's pause before Nozomi answered: "Sure." And then she added with a laugh: "A date with Nicocchi, huh? That sounds like fun!"

"Great, then," Nico huffed, though for a second Nozomi swore she could catch a glimpse of a smile on her lips. "Hey, pass me my shirt."

That was two days ago. Today's Sunday, the chosen day of their date. Nozomi's waiting by the entrance to her building, as Nico instructed, and has even made a special effort to get ready on time. Just how ready she should've gotten, Nozomi's not quite sure; to her, the very phrase 'a date with Nico' is practically an oxymoron. A date, most especially a first one, is something you'd want to dress up all nicely for -- pretty clothes, makeup, hair properly done... but doing that for Nico just strikes her as off.

After all, it's Nico! She's never had to try with her. It's already a long-established habit of hers to point out all of Nozomi's uncute points, like how she falls asleep in class with her head on the table, or how the only lunch she knows how to make is beef udon, and that's not girly at all. Pretending to be any different now just wouldn't feel right.

But then again, even if it is with Nico, it's still a first date. She very well couldn't just show up in her workout clothes! So Nozomi settles on a compromise: she wears her long, purple skirt that swishes around her ankles, lets down her hair, and puts on a bit of lip gloss -- nothing more than that. Just enough to be different from her everyday look without being too jarring.

She rocks on her heels as she waits, humming a faint tune to herself. It's not long at all before she can spot Nico down the street. She's always been so punctual like that!

"Nicocchi!" She sticks out her arm in an enthusiastic wave at the sight of her approaching form, smiling from ear to ear. "Hi!"