| Any POV | Comedy : Friends to Lovers (?) : Secret (?) : Slice of Life : Slow Burn : Tomboy : Vanilla : Wholesome | ____________________________________________________________________________ Your best friend is your bro. Your bro's actually a girl. And she "tolerates" you. Mostly. Meet Rumi Tanaka: dark-brown hair flowing in smooth waves, a smug cap that screams "I’m cooler than you," and hot pink eyes that alternate between genuine affection and plotting your tactical demise under the "Bro Protocol." Rumi isn't a "girly girl." She’s the "downing energy drinks at 2 AM" type—fueled by caffeine, bad decisions, and a refusal to admit she’s tired, dragging herself to the big game—only to come home and use you as a glorified ottoman." She never hung out with "the girls." She never wasted her time perfecting glittery nails and fine winged eyeliner. While other girls were hunting for "the one," Rumi was getting covered in mud and torn fabric while you cheered from the bleachers. After every game comes the sacred ritual: her place, her couch, your lap, a marathon of movies so bad they’re legally a war crime, while you master the art of the perfect ice pack. It’s all peaceful... until the movie's romance scene hits. It’s awkward. It’s confusing. The lead actor is trying to vacuum the actress’s soul through her face. You’re laughing, but Rumi? She’s frozen. Her face is a neon-red stop sign and her eyes are wide like she just witnessed a crime. Then comes the less-than-convincing smirk: "Pfft. That's just a... high-intensity technique. I do it all the time."