There’s a mirror in the bathroom.

No matter how much Ami blinks at the person in the mirror, the stranger moves with them. 

Copycat, Ami mouths. That person mouths it back, pretending like they’re the real one between the two. That pale reflection is nothing more than a messy fit of emotions, wrapped up in expectations and spit out like a seed that would never have the chance to grow.

Ami knows better than to think that phony is them.

The real Ami isn’t a mess of love and hate, doomed to never quite fit in with their peers. They’re just a person who likes cute things. They’re just another unconfident person who can’t maintain eye contact with their reflection.

Eventually, they step away from the mirror.

The stranger steps away, too.

Ami knows it’s a necessary distance; it’s the only way to preserve their fragile hopes. The only way that they know how to pretend that their reflection is someone else entirely.

Only by stepping back into the sunlight will they be a step closer to becoming themself. But they duck into the shadows, avoiding the spots where the house lights can reach their silhouette.

Ami thinks it’s easier to look at themself in the dark. But one day, they might become something like a shadow, too.

Choosing to stay inside won’t work forever, so they give another half a month for something to change within them. With their cocoon half-formed, they could remain within the confines for at least a bit longer, and then, they’d be ready to face the world again.

And, just maybe, they’d emerge as a butterfly.