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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
beautiful. y/n finally began her journey home, her footsteps echoing in the late afternoon. today had been a departure from her usual routine; instead of rushing straight home after school, she'd managed to persuade her parents to allow her a detour to the store.
desperately in need of more school supplies, having exhausted her stock of notebooks and pens from middle school and unable to afford new ones for high school, her parents had reluctantly agreed. however, they imposed a strict curfew of 7 pm.
as the clock struck 5:30 pm, she couldn't help but sigh, the weight of her recent conversation with kunimi weighing heavily on her mind. she hated herself for oversharing, fearing that she'd made him uncomfortable with her candid revelations.
she rarely spoke so openly with him, and she suspected that he might have been taken aback by suddenly playing the role of her confidant and unofficial therapist.
her thoughts were interrupted as she strolled past kunimi's neighborhood and encountered a middle-aged woman struggling under the burden of heavy plastic bags. concerned by her predicament, y/n immediately sprang into action, offering her assistance.
"may i be of help with those?" she kindly inquired, gently relieving the woman of her load. those woman's face lit up with gratitude as she responded, "oh, thank you, dear." y/n's heart warmed at the woman's appreciation.
"no worries. i'll carry these for you on your way home so you won't have to struggle." she kindly proposed, considering the woman's comfort. the woman gasped in amazement, touched by the young student's kindness. she inquired, "may i know your name?"
with a friendly smile, she replied, "i'm l/n y/n." the woman's eyes twinkled with warmth as she complimented, "what a lovely name for such a kind face!" y/n's heart fluttered and graciously responded, "ah, thank you."
observing the young girl's school uniform, the woman couldn't help but inquire, "oh, and you go to aoba johsai?" she nodded, confirming, "yes, i'm a first-year."
the woman's excitement bubbled over as she exclaimed, "my son is a first-year too! you two must be friends, then!" she clasped her hands together at the thought.
however, y/n humbly replied, "i don't really know a lot of first-years at my school..." all the while shifting one of the plastic bags to her other arm as they continued their walk, the bags growing increasingly heavy.
as they arrived at the woman's house and entered, y/n carefully placed the plastic bags on the dining table. she turned to face the woman who said, "thank you so much, sweetheart." y/n shook her head modestly, replying, "don't mention it."
