After our lunch, we walk to our next destination. An amusement park! And as we come closer to it, we come across a small store selling cheap stuffed animals. We walk past it, but Saitama suddenly stops and stares at the shop window.
"This is amazing. Look at this, Fubuki," he says, pointing his finger at the display of stuffed animals.
I follow his gaze and see a large amount of plushies surrounding a table with some toys on it. The stuffed toy collection includes cute ones such as rabbits, squirrels, and owls, as well as others that make me shudder a little. These include snakes, bats, spiders, and even a cat with a giant tongue sticking out.
"You like those things?" I ask.
"Yeah, they are cool. What do you think, Fubuki?"
I shake my head. If it's related to my sister, then probably.
"Hey, come on. I saw you eyeing those things in the store earlier."
"No, I was looking at those," I say, taking his arm and turning his attention to the store beside it. "Those are cuter."
"Heroes' plushies?"
"Yep, heroes like us. Hmmm, maybe I should take a look at what kind of plushies they have."
Saitama looks around as if searching for something. "Oh! There's King!" he exclaims.
I turn back to see King's plushie—huge, rugged, and with a scar on his face.
"That doesn't feel like King though," he remarks.
I shrug. "I think it looks like him."
Saitama stares at the plushie, his eyebrows drawn together. "Nope. Not at all."
"Miss Fubuki?"
I whirl towards a voice, and an unfamiliar young man is looking back at me. "Yes?" I ask.
"Oh! It really is you!" he exclaims. "I've seen your plushie there."
I look at Saitama and then back at the boy. "Oh, where? I don't recognize anyone except King and the other S class."
The boy nods and points to his side. "If you go there, you'll see it." Someone calls the young man and so he says, "I need to go. My friends are calling for me. But it's nice seeing you in person, Miss Fubuki."
The young man leaves and I shift my attention to the area he just pointed at. I walk towards it and Saitama asks, "Where are you going, Fubuki?"
"The young boy just said they have a plushie of me," I inform him.
"A plushie?! Oh! B-class has it too?!" He pauses and then exclaims, "Ah! Maybe I have one too! I will go around this shop then."
Saitama leaves and I go to the stack of plushies. I find it, or rather, I find one that's wearing the same green dress and shawl that I have. It also has the same hair. However, its chest is too big, its butt too shapely, and there is a seductive look on its face. And the more I look at it, the more I become embarrassed.
That's not me at all! Those body proportions! I know mine is perfect, but these... it's just too much! Is this how other people see me? I grab my face, which is getting hotter by the second. No! Saitama must not see this!
"Fubuki? You saw your plushie?"
I spin around and see Saitama standing in front of me, his hands in his pockets. When I see his eyes going to my look-alike plushies, I squeal. "Eek!"
"Wh-what's wrong?" he asks.
I cover his eyes with my hands and say in a panic. "Don't look! Let's leave!"
"Why?! Is it finally my plushie?!"
"Of course not! You are a no-name hero! Of course, you won't have one!"
"Hey! That hurts!" he complains.
He reaches for my hands and is about to remove them from his eyes when I panic. I grab a hold of his face and press my lips on his. My temperature has gone haywire. What the heck am I doing?! Why the hell am I kissing him?! And why the hell is he not pulling away from me?!
Then someone hoots at us. "Get a room man!"
"Don't do it here!"
"Have the decency, young 'uns!"
Then someone pushes at me and our kiss breaks. "Hey!" Saitama complains. But I feel too weak that I slump against him. He supports my weight by winding his arms around my body. "Hey, Fubuki?" he asks.
But I can no longer speak–from both the shame and the kiss. Saitama lifts me and he carries me out of the store. He walks to an empty bench and makes me sit on it.
"Hey! Are you okay now?" he asks, kneeling before me.
As if woken up, I jerk. "Saitama?"
He exhales. "Damn, you are weird."
I blush. If I am going to go on a trip with him, I need to get used to this!
"What did you see there that you don't want me to see? My plushie?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. It's... I didn't see your plushie."
"Really?" He exhales again. He stands up and sits beside me. "Figures. I only see your plushie. So I guess you are kinda popular."
My head turns sharply towards him. "What did you just say?!" I ask.
"That you are kinda popular?"
"No! Not that! Before that!"
"Ah! That I saw your plushie? What's it about?"
My shoulders droop and my heart pounds. "You saw that grotesque distortion that is copying some of my features and my clothing..."
"Hey, that's too much."
"How can I describe that aberration then?!" I ask, leaning towards him.
"Aberration?" he asks, wincing. He pulls back, an uncertain look on his face. "It's pretty cool, actually."
"Co-cool?"
"Although, your plushie has such weird proportions," he says, grinning. "Whoever did that might have something weird in their eyes."
Warmth envelops my chest. I look at him, reminding myself why and how I have fallen in love with him. "Thanks," I say, a smile cracking across my face. "It's weird, ain't it?"
His smile fades, and I grin at him. After a short pause, he looks away while scratching his cheeks. "Well, I think that you are more strange."