Call me Miku

Previously

…She opened her sketchbook, her fingers tracing the outlines of the winged fox once more. It still looked like a guardian of dreams, but now, it felt like a symbol of something more. It was a symbol of her own burgeoning courage, a symbol of the unexpected friendship that had just begun to bloom, and a symbol of the beautiful, vibrant world that was always waiting for her, just a pencil stroke away. As she walked into the classroom, she didn't feel "too anime" anymore. She felt like Miku, an artist, a dreamer, and now, a friend. The pages of her story, it seemed, were just beginning to unfold.