milk pudding « kozume kenma

epilogue || a clean plate

epilogue:
a clean plate.

ten years into the future . . .

>>>

She wondered how many times she had wanted to be on the arrival floors of the airport, wanted to hear the sound of her luggage rolling across the floor.

"Miruka?"

A voice filled in the gaps of silence between her and she turned around. Her eyes widened at the sight.

"Michaela?"

Michaela smiled softly, walking up to her and placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. They hugged tightly, pulling away reluctantly to look at each other.

"Wait, this is—," Miruka blubbered, shaking her head and clutching onto Michaela's arms. "This is weird. How did it all come to this? One moment I was with Kenma and now, I'm, why am I here?"

The author stepped away from her and dusted off her clothes. "There's something I need to tell you—," Michaela shot a dark glance towards the readers. "—And especially all of you."

"Woah, what's wrong?" Miruka questioned, blinking rapidly. Her tone quickly shifted to an agitated ring. "Tell me now."

Michaela sucked in a breath, and opened her mouth.

"I'M FINALLY LEAVING THIS DANG ACCOUNT AND OFFICIALLY DISCONTINUING MILK PUDDING!"

Miruka gasped and tears welled up in her eyes. Michaela made a victory pose and sent her a peace sign, a flash of lightning striking behind her.

The character sobbed. "You're leaving me?"

"Yup," Michaela said, pulling out an ice cream sandwich out of thin air to only finish it in seconds. "That's the plan."

"But why?"

"Just accept it," Michaela snapped, taking out her laptop and going to her account settings. She sat on the airport floor and waved over a flight attendant, ordering a matcha and vanilla bean mocha with extra cream and a chicken Caesar salad.

All of a sudden, Miruka pushed up her glasses that she was apparently wearing this whole time.

A shining glint washed over the lenses, and with the shake of her head, the flowing of her peach hair that was actually just strawberry blonde, Miruka removed the glasses.

And there they were, the most invincible puppy eyes to ever exist.

Michaela choked on her matcha and vanilla bean mocha with extra cream, dropping a plastic fork right into her salad.

"No, no, no," she whispered, trying with all her might not to give in. "Good lord, Miruka let me go!"

"Never!"

A groan spluttered out of Michaela's mouth and she shut her laptop, taking the last bite of grated carrot and chicken.

"You wanna know the reason?"

Miruka nodded.

"If you cry, it's not my fault. You brought this upon yourself. I don't care."