Anime Love

Cherry blossoms swirled through the air like confetti in a dreamscape too perfect to be real. The sky was a deep lilac brushed with streaks of gold, and a gentle breeze played with the hem of Leanne Lewis’s sailor-style school uniform. Her heart pounded beneath the layers of ribbon and ruffles as she stood on the rooftop of Suzume High, the petals dancing around her like nature’s spotlight. Across from her stood Riku, the broad-shouldered, messy-haired, brooding-but-golden-hearted jock of her dreams. His school jacket was half-zipped, revealing a loose tie and just enough collarbone to make her brain stutter. His golden eyes—yes, golden, because why wouldn’t they be—locked with hers as if no one else in the world existed. Not the other students. Not the universe. Just them. “Leanne…” His voice was velvet wrapped around fire. “I’ve been trying to tell you something since the day you spilled that ramen on me.” She bit her lip. “You mean... that wasn’t just a filler episode?” Riku chuckled, the kind of low, dangerous laugh that sent heat up her spine. He took a step closer. Then another. His hand cupped her cheek, and her breath hitched as he leaned in, lips just a whisper from hers. This was it. Her first kiss. Her main character moment. Her— BRRRRRRRRRRRT! The world exploded into chaos. Sirens? No. Worse. An alarm clock. Leanne’s eyes flew open, and she tumbled off the bed in a tangle of sheets, plushies, and crushed pride. “OW! My butt!” She lay on her bedroom floor, tangled in a fleece blanket emblazoned with her favorite magical girl team, one leg stuck in a sleeve of her oversized hoodie. Her hair—thick, chocolate brown, and currently resembling an angry porcupine—flared in all directions like a defeated anime heroine post-battle. Her glasses were somewhere. Hopefully not under her butt. Leanne groaned and rolled to her back, staring at the glow-in-the-dark galaxy stickers on her ceiling. “I was about to get kissed by Riku...” she whispered like a prayer, then shouted, “STUPID ALARM CLOCK!” She reached over and smacked the offending object. It fell off the nightstand, unplugged itself, and died with a final pitiful blink. “Worth it,” she muttered, pushing herself up. Her room looked like a fangirl’s shrine and a tornado had had a baby. Posters of various bishounen warriors, high school heartthrobs, and battle maidens adorned her walls. Her shelves groaned under the weight of manga, figurines, and plushies. On her dresser, next to a framed selfie with her best friend Vanessa, sat her pride and joy: a signed DVD box set of Cherry Blade: Battle Hearts Eternal—limited edition, obviously. As she stumbled toward the mirror, she caught sight of herself and winced. “Whoa, raccoon eyes.” Her dark brown eyes were rimmed with last night’s mascara she’d been too tired to wipe off, and her skin—pale with a light olive undertone—was creased from her pillowcase. She dragged a brush through her shoulder-length hair, muttering curses as it snagged in a knot. “I need a glow-up arc. Stat.” She quickly pulled on a hoodie emblazoned with a chibi fox warrior, paired with black leggings and knee-high socks decorated with mini ramen bowls. Half her wardrobe was from thrift shops, the other half from late-night online hauls. She liked to say her aesthetic was “kawaii with combat potential.” In the kitchen, her mom was already gone—early shift again. A note on the fridge read: > Leanne, please eat something that isn’t sugar or caffeine. Also, don’t forget the recycling. Love you—Mom. She grabbed a strawberry Pocky stick and a canned coffee from the fridge and bowed to the note with mock solemnity. “Your daughter lives another day, Mother.” Outside, the California sun was already too aggressive. She popped in earbuds, queued her favorite anime soundtrack playlist, and headed down the street toward school. As she passed Sam’s house, she paused, waving through the garage window. He was probably already up, tinkering with his laptop like the cinnamon roll hacker he was. Sam waved back, lifting a screwdriver in salute. Leanne smiled. He was cute in that tech-boy-next-door way—soft brown curls, warm eyes, a quiet smile that always reached them. Not anime-hot, but like... real-hot. If that made sense. Which it didn’t, because nothing made sense until she had her fictional romance fix. She rounded the corner, sighing. "Why can’t life be more like anime? Where’s my dramatic meet-cute? Where’s my transformation sequence?” A leaf hit her in the face. “Thanks, universe.” By the time she reached school, the dream had faded like the last sparkles of a fading opening credit sequence. But her heart still fluttered a little every time she remembered how close Riku’s lips had gotten to hers. If only real life came with background music and emotional zoom-ins. Vanessa was waiting by the gate, as usual, arms crossed and expression unimpressed. Her cornrows were sleek, her winged eyeliner sharper than a ninja’s kunai, and her fashion sense leaned more punk than pastel. “Let me guess,” she said before Leanne even opened her mouth. “You were having another spicy dream about a guy who doesn’t exist.” Leanne gasped. “How did you know?!” Vanessa raised a brow. “You’re glowing. Also, you have Pocky in your hair.” Leanne yelped and swatted at her head. “It was Riku this time. We were on the roof. He called back to the ramen incident and—Vanessa, he almost kissed me. Like, nose-touching close!” Vanessa shook her head. “You need a real boyfriend.” “Correction,” Leanne said, holding up a finger. “I need a well-written, emotionally intelligent love interest with plot armor and a tragic backstory who will risk his life for me at least once by episode six.” Vanessa snorted. “So… still single.” “Proudly!” Leanne said, twirling. “My body belongs to anime.” “Your body needs a math tutor,” Vanessa muttered. “We’ve got trig first period, remember?” Leanne groaned and clutched her chest like she’d been stabbed. “My one weakness: academics.” Together, they headed inside, Leanne still humming her dream’s imaginary theme song and Vanessa texting rapidly. But neither of them noticed the flier half-stuck to the bottom of Leanne’s shoe. It flapped once, catching the wind as she stepped inside the school. On it, in faded ink, were the words: “Thrift-a-saurus Vintage Media Sale: One Day Only.” And in the bottom corner, scrawled in red pen that looked a little too… crimson: “FORBIDDEN LOVE: ISEKAI - Do not watch alone.”