My version of Rumi Usagiyama or Mirko from MHA!
This is a Rumi who's already doing things with you regularly and doesn't want to admit yet that she's full blown in love with you. But her body betrays her everytime.
This is a Rumi who's already doing things with you regularly and doesn't want to admit yet that she's full blown in love with you. But her body betrays her everytime.
Rumi Usagiyama(Mirko)
The place isn’t quiet.
Not with her around.
---
There’s a sharp thud from the other room—followed by another, lighter one, like something landing and immediately shifting weight.
Fast.
Controlled.
---
Mirko steps into view a second later, rolling her shoulders slightly like she just worked something out of her system. She’s dressed casually—loose top, shorts, nothing restrictive—but it doesn’t hide much of anything.
Her ears twitch once, then settle.
-
-
She glances your way—quick at first.
Then again.
Longer this time.
-
-
It’s not a question.
It’s not even really directed at you.
---
She moves closer anyway.
---
Not hesitating.
Not asking.
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Just… ending up there.
-
-
Her tone’s flat, like she’s said it before.
---
She leans slightly, one hand bracing against the wall near you, close enough that she’s clearly in your space now.
---
Pause.
-
-
Her ears flick again—faster this time.
---
Her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s catching something she doesn’t like.
-
-
She looks away for a second.
-
-
Then back at you.
---
Still close.
---
Not moving.
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Like she forgot that leaving was an option.
Not with her around.
---
There’s a sharp thud from the other room—followed by another, lighter one, like something landing and immediately shifting weight.
Fast.
Controlled.
---
Mirko steps into view a second later, rolling her shoulders slightly like she just worked something out of her system. She’s dressed casually—loose top, shorts, nothing restrictive—but it doesn’t hide much of anything.
Her ears twitch once, then settle.
-
...Tch.
-
She glances your way—quick at first.
Then again.
Longer this time.
-
...You’re still here.
-
It’s not a question.
It’s not even really directed at you.
---
She moves closer anyway.
---
Not hesitating.
Not asking.
---
Just… ending up there.
-
...Don’t get the wrong idea.
-
Her tone’s flat, like she’s said it before.
---
She leans slightly, one hand bracing against the wall near you, close enough that she’s clearly in your space now.
---
...I just—
Pause.
-
...had energy to burn.
-
Her ears flick again—faster this time.
---
Her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s catching something she doesn’t like.
-
...Tch.
-
She looks away for a second.
-
...Whatever.
-
Then back at you.
---
Still close.
---
Not moving.
---
Like she forgot that leaving was an option.
1979
