I Fell In Love With A Girl Who Died Before I Was Even Born

I didn't say anything at the time, but I knew I was going to have a rough go of it as I watched the young Japanese girl take off her round glasses, set them neatly on the table beside her, and raise one hand above her head while planting the other on her hip.

"Inego!" she said. "Look! I'm a little teapot!"

Then she erupted into giggles.

"That's adorable," I said. "But I don't think that's what the tanuki in the legend did to fool the monk."

She looked up at me, her face flickering into static for a moment, and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you're no fun," she teased.

I glanced at the analog clock on the wall. Its face was a smear of unrecognizable food stains and grease splatters as old as I was.

If I'd been in my room, I would've been practicing guitar.

"Do you want to do this or not?" I asked, trying to sound patient.

She frowned and shuffled her feet.

"Okay, I guess you're right. One more Jelly Baby, and then I'll turn into your little teapot."

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Azuki," I muttered, wondering if it was worth it.

She dropped to her knees and rummaged through her trinket-covered bookbag until she found one. She popped it into her mouth, gave me a devilish grin—and then twerked for a full second instead of getting back up.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I could be a cheeky teapot, you know," she said.

I wanted to be mad, but… damn it. Her butt was undeniable.

So I chuckled once, out of habit.

Then she stood up and the room changed.

Not dramatically. Just a small shift. Like the moment a cloud passes over the sun.

Azuki took a breath and closed her eyes.

She didn't say anything, or chant or snap her fingers. She slowly released her breath and let herself shift. As she exhaled, it was like her body forgot how bones worked.

Her skin shimmered. Her flesh grew soft, semi-translucent, like wax melting near a flame. Her face sagged, her head folding in on itself like a slow collapse. Then her body slumped forward and inward, bones and muscles melting into a living puddle.

I could tell she was still alive because she was giggling the whole time.

And right before she finished, I heard soft clicks and pops. It was Azuki's body, turning into porcelain and shaping itself from the inside out.

"Almost finished," she said between giggles. "Just rearranging some bones. Don't worry, I've got plenty, Inego-kun."

It wasn't cute.

It wasn't funny.

It felt wrong watching her melt and reform.

Her voice echoed from inside that shifting mass like a kid hiding in a haunted dollhouse, and I realized—really realized—that she wasn't pretending.

I watched her form a handle. Her legs folded beneath her into a perfect base. Her entire face stretched forward and froze in a kawaii tanuki smile, complete with gold trim and a cartoon wink.

She looked like something you'd buy at a Sanrio gift shop.

But I knew it was Azuki.

I felt it was Azuki.

Pretty. Sweet. Barefoot. Cheeky. Divine thighs. Her laugh was like soda fizz and her fingers always smelled like sugar and mischief. I absolutely should not think about how soft her skin would feel.

But I absolutely thought about it more often than I should've.

Flintwick knew, but Azuki didn't have to.

Because, as much as I liked her, she wasn't human.

She never would be.

"Ta-da!" she chirped, her voice echoing from somewhere deep in the teapot.

I grinned. No matter what, she was still Azuki the cheeky tanuki.

"Okay, I'm ready!" she sang. "Take me to the sink and fill me up!"