objects in session: 11.0

not here anymore.

Mochi fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, her fingers knotting together like tangled yarn. "We, uh... we just kinda... left," she admitted, her gaze flickering around the empty hallway. "But... where's Lipstick?"

Just like that, the sunshine vanished from Pom-Pom's face. Her shoulders sagged, her back curving like a question mark, and the colorful pom-poms drooped at her sides, their shimmer suddenly dull. "Lipstick's... busy," she mumbled, the words sounding thick and uncomfortable, like trying to talk with a marshmallow stuck in your throat. For a long, quiet stretch, she stared past them, her eyes fixed on nothing at all. Then, a tiny, nervous giggle escaped her, not her usual bright, bubbly sound, but more like a startled mouse. "It's so weird, isn't it? I'm never, ever by myself. But... I guess it's okay."

Guitar Case, who had been leaning against the cool wall like a silent shadow, shifted slightly. His eyes, usually hidden behind a fringe of hair, were fixed on Pom-Pom, and a tiny wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, showing he was listening very, very carefully.

Pom-Pom swallowed a big lump in her throat, a sound Mochi could almost hear. "It's not just Lipstick, though, guys. You probably think this whole place is messed up because of them-" She flicked her head upwards, a quick, angry gesture towards the hidden offices above where the teachers usually hid. "...but it's so much worse. Like, a bazillion times worse." Her voice trembled, sharp and sudden, like a twig snapping underfoot.

Mochi just blinked, her own heart doing a frantic drum solo against her ribs. "Pom-Pom...?" she whispered, her voice barely there.

Pom-Pom’s fingers tightened around the fluffy pom-poms, squishing them into sad, crumpled balls. "Coach Treadmill," she whispered, spitting the name out like a bitter seed. "The P.E. coach. You know, that big, loud guy. He- he told me I was his favorite. Said I was 'special.'" Her laugh was brittle, like a dry leaf crunching. "He made me stay late after practice. Said it had to be our secret. Because good girls keep secrets, right?"

Mochi's stomach plunged.

"I didn't understand at first," Pom-Pom murmured, her eyes wide and distant. "I really thought… I thought he just saw something great in me, like I was a champion. And who doesn't want a teacher to notice them, right?" Her voice broke off abruptly, and she slid down, shrinking into a small, slumped shape against the shiny mirrored wall. "But then..." she continued, her voice barely a breath, "I started to feel this icky wrongness. Like his 'special' wasn't special at all. Then I knew what he really wanted. And when I tried to say no, to pull away..." Her breath hitched. "He said I'd lose my spot on the team. Said no one would believe me anyway. So I just... smiled. I smiled like I always do. And I kept quiet."

The vibrant pom-poms, symbols of her usual joy, slipped from her limp fingers and landed on the floor in a sad, silent pile.

Mochi immediately knelt down, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She didn't have any words, but a hollow ache filled her chest, a silent plea to hug her tight.

Finally, Guitar Case's voice broke the quiet, calm and steady. "That's not your fault, Pom-Pom," he said softly. "None of it is.”

Pom-Pom dipped her head back, blinking so fast her baby blue eyeshadow started to streak, like tiny rain on her cheeks. She looked at him with wide, worried eyes. “It just feels so big, you know? Like a giant, scary monster is sitting on my chest! It always feels like this before a big cheer. And Lipstick… ugh, she wouldn’t even care. She’s too busy telling me what to do for her own routine. She’d probably just laugh at me, or tell me to 'suck it up, buttercup!' No, I definitely don't want her to know.”

Mochi, quiet and steady, gently placed her hand on Pom-Pom’s trembling arm. It felt warm and comforting, like a fuzzy blanket. “Then… then tell us,” Mochi whispered softly, looking over at Guitar Case who nodded with a kind smile. “You don’t have to carry all those big feelings alone. We’re right here to help.”

For the very first time that day, Pom-Pom’s smile wasn't just a painted cheerleading grin. It was tiny and wobbly, like a baby bird taking its first flight, but it was real. “You’d really… you’d really come watch me? At the game?”

“Of course, silly goose!” Mochi grinned, her eyes sparkling like newly polished coins. “We want to see our friend shine as bright as a disco ball!”

The high school gym was absolutely bursting! It roared like a friendly dragon, packed to the brim with students cheering and stomping their feet in the bleachers. The basketball game itself was a whiz-bang blur – bouncy balls flew, sneakers squeaked like a flock of happy mice, and whistles shrilled like tiny, bossy birds. But even with all that commotion, everyone's eyes found Pom-Pom. She was like a bright, bouncy star in the middle of it all!

Every single jump was extra high, like she had springs in her shoes. Every chant was sung with super-strength, making the whole gym hum. And every flick of her sparkly pom-poms seemed to shoot out tiny fireworks. She wasn't just cheering; she was glowing, lighting up the whole room even brighter than the big, buzzing scoreboard. She twisted, she tumbled, she smiled her biggest, bravest smiles, and with every move, a tiny bit of her worried monster seemed to shrink away.

And then, whoosh! The final buzzer rang, and the home team WON! Pom-Pom practically floated, she was so happy. Her face glowed like a warm, sunny morning. Through the wave of jumping, cheering kids, she spotted Mochi and Guitar Case, carefully wiggling their way through the happy crowd. When their eyes met, the worried lines around Pom-Pom’s mouth completely disappeared, replaced by a smile that looked like a huge sigh of sweet relief, as if a heavy backpack had just been taken off her shoulders.

“You came!” she squealed, bouncing so high on her toes it looked like she might float off the ground. Her eyes were enormous. “Did you see me? Did you really really see me?”

“See you? Pom-Pom, you were like a superhero!” Mochi cheered, her own smile so wide it felt like her cheeks might crackle, but she didn’t care. “Every single jump was perfect! And your cartwheel was like a blur of awesome!”

Pom-Pom’s eyes shimmered then, not with those yucky, worried tears from before, but with something warm and bubbly, like fizzy soda pop. “Thank you…” she whispered, and for the first time, she truly felt seen, truly felt brave, and truly felt happy right down to her toes.

In the corner of the bleachers, Lipstick stood with crossed arms, glaring like her eyes could burn through the air. Except she wasn’t glaring at Pom-Pom. No, for once, she looked proud of her, almost protective. It was Mochi who stole her scowl.

With a sharp huff, Lipstick flipped her hair and stormed out, leaving Pom-Pom standing taller than ever, her smile wide and real.

And for the first time, she didn’t need Lipstick beside her to feel it.