In the softly lit aisle of a store, a young girl, no more than six, stood by patiently as her mother deliberated between Unagi Kabayaki and Tako Sunomono for dinner. The girl had been idly eyeing the selections closer to her own eye-level when she looked up at a small shriek.
"But I want it!"
She turned to see a young boy, maybe a year or two older than her. He was flailing on the floor, pounding his fists. The woman beside him, whom she presumed was his mother, knelt across him, trying to coax him out of it. To no avail. As the boy's wails continued to intensify, his mother, exhaling heavily, reached for the toy and surrendered it to his grasp. She scooped him up as he finally quieted down. After a short moment, the pair slowly made their way into an adjacent section, gradually disappearing from view.
"My, what an unruly kid."
"She's just encouraging that behavior, giving in like that."
The girl briefly glanced up at the two older women passing through, noting their disapproving frowns and hushed tones.
Looking back at her own mother, the woman seemed to have hardly noticed the commotion. Or perhaps she'd just chosen to ignore it. The girl's fingers idly traced the seam of her shirt as she waited.
"What do you think, dear?" her mother finally asked, turning the jars to face her daughter. "Unagi or Tako for tonight?"
The girl peered at each option, lips pursed in thought. After a moment, she looked up. "Um, maybe... whichever one mama likes best?"
The woman's laugh was warm and light.
"Playing it safe, are we?" her mother said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You know what? Lem'me just grab both."
The girl let out a small giggle. As the jars settled among their other groceries, the pair drifted towards the next aisle, lost in comfortable silence.
"My! What a cute daughter!" Cooed the elderly woman at checkout.
"Deshou? Isn't she just?" the mother replied, beaming. Blushing slightly, the girl made a polite bow. "Konnichiwa. My name is Teruhashi Kokomi. What is your name, ma'am?"
"My, and so polite!" The clerk's eyes lit up in delight. "It's a pleasure to meet such a charming young lady!"
"You really had the nice clerk lady eating out of your hand, huh? Young Lady?" her mother said, ruffling Kokomi's hair as she helped her with her seatbelt. The girl leaned back into her seat with a giddy expression. "Hee-hee."
Still smiling, the woman gently shut her door and circled the car. She paused, fishing for her keys in her purse and stealing a glance back at the store. "Next time, maybe we'll try for a discount." Chuckling at her own little joke, she slid into the driver's seat.
As the car's engine hummed to life, little Kokomi pressed her nose against the cool glass, watching the world outside blur past. The sky stretched out in an expansive cerulean blue, tree leaves bobbing in the summer breeze.
The sidewalks were a sea of dark hair and muted colors, the urban bustle playing out in the pace of crisply suited salarymen hurrying past chattering students. A cadence of clicking heels accompanied a small procession of office ladies, their conversation a soft hum.
Shopkeepers arranged their wares, nodding politely to familiar faces. The air thrummed with the distant rumble of trains and the occasional chime of a shop door.
On one corner of the pavement, the tinny chirps of a Game Boy Advance whispered into the urban clamor amidst a huddle of teens. Overhead, giant billboards advertised the newest leap in flip phone technology.
It was the roaring 2000s. And all was well.
"-and his nose got all swollen and pink!"
The classroom buzzed with pre-lesson chatter, sunlight streaming through large windows onto worn wooden floors. Around one desk, a cluster of girls leaned in, captivated.
"Aw, poor Bon-chan!" another girl chimed in, her round face creased with sympathy. Her crisp white shirt, adorned with a neat ribbon tie and tucked into a navy skirt, mirrored those of her compadres. Chairs had been poached from nearby desks to form the impromptu gathering.
"I heard dogs have very sensitive noses," added a bespectacled girl, pushing her glasses up. "It must have hurt a lot." The gaggle of six year olds, if you can believe it, all nodded solemnly.
"I helped apply ice while mom took out the stinger," said the first girl - around whose desk everyone had gathered - mimicking the action with her hands.
Another girl offered a squeamish "Yelp!" in response.
"Bees can be scary!" a girl with pigtails concluded.
Nodding along, her expression a perfect blend of attention and concern, little Kokomi listened keenly, absorbing every detail.
The afternoon sun bathed the playground in a cozy blanket of light. Little Kokomi watched her friends take turns on the chalk-drawn squares on the ground, engrossed in their little game of hopscotch.
"Watch out!" a girl cried, just a moment too late. Two boys barreled towards them, caught up in their own game. The first skidded to a stop, nimbly jumping out of the way. The second, hot on his heels, couldn't halt in time. As he reached for the first boy's shirt, he bumped into the girl whose turn it had been.
It wasn't a particularly grievous collision, but the girl tumbled onto her rear with a small yelp.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" one of the girls shouted indignantly.
The boy shrugged dismissively. "It's your fault for not paying attention." He was about to dash off when he paused, noticing a blue-haired girl helping up the one he'd bumped into.
"Ne, please be more careful. Maki-chan's a bit frail," she said softly.
His bravado faltering, the boy stammered a, "I-I'll be more careful," before scurrying away, glancing back over his shoulder periodically.
"It's such a pain to share the playground with boys," fumed one of the girls, glaring after him.
Kokomi took a moment to make sure Maki was alright, then glanced around, offering a gentle, "Shall we continue?"
The girls turned, catching the soft, glowing smile on her face. They exchanged looks and broke into collective shrugs.
The art room buzzed with a cacophony of sounds: the clatter of pencils, the scrape of chairs against the floor, the crinkle of foil, and the thud of discarded equipment.
Seated three per table, the children sat, their faces scrunched in various linear combinations of concentration and excitement. Sheets of paper - some neatly stacked, others haphazardly scattered - covered the tables alongside markers, crayons, and glue sticks. Half-finished drawings and cutouts littered the workspace. The walls were a chaotic splatter of shapes and colors - a living canvas, and a soft memento of cohorts come and gone.
Threading through the labyrinth of busy tables, a woman, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, and flecks of paint decorating her smock, moved periodically from table to table, offering her thoughts and encouragement. Presumably the art teacher.
Scissors clipped at a particular corner of the room amid the din. A boy with a mop of dark black hair looked up, mild irritation etched on his face. "Are you done yet?" he asked, his voice barely rising above the noise.
His tablemate, a girl with fiery brown eyes, briefly shot him a glare. Returning her focus to the task at hand, the scissors in her grip traced a shape onto a sheet of shimmering foil paper, the line wavering slightly as she went. Light metallic snips punctuated the ambient classroom noise as bits of foil scattered across the table.
Finishing, the girl held up the cutout, scrutinizing it in the muted afternoon light. Her hopeful expression faded into a frown at its various jagged edges.
"This doesn't look right," she muttered. Scrunching the foil into a ball, she tossed it aside with a flick of her wrist, the silver orb arcing through the air before landing among a small pile of similarly discarded attempts.
The boy's eyes flickered with annoyance. But before he could comment, their third tablemate spoke up, diverting his attention.
"Do we have any more ribbons?" she asked, gesturing at her drawing. The paper figure was adorned with every scrap they'd had, creating a chaotic but oddly charming patchwork of color and texture.
The boy's expression softened as he considered the question. "I think Ak-kun's table had a few left," he replied after a moment, nodding towards a group across the room. He watched as she stood, pushing her chair back with a screech against the linoleum floor.
As the sound of her footsteps faded, the boy returned his focus to the girl across from him, catching her trying again on yet another piece of foil, her frustration mounting.
With a deep sigh, "Oh, give me that," he said, reaching over and grabbing the scissors off her hands.
"Hey!" She cried indignantly.
Ignoring her protest, the boy took another sheet of foil, swiftly cutting out a rectangle. A few quick, precise trims later, he had shaped it to roughly match her intended design.
"It's easier if you first cut out a simple shape," he explained, his tone matter-of-fact but not unkind. "Then gradually clean up the edges." He demonstrated, making small, controlled cuts along the outline. "Instead of trying to cut out the whole tricky shape at once," he added, glancing pointedly at her earlier attempts.
"I'd almost got it," she huffed.
"In a year, maybe," he retorted, the corner of his mouth twitching in a suppressed smirk.
Ignoring her scowl, he turned back to his own work. He had barely picked up his pencil when-
"..Excuse me." A soft, melodious voice drew their attention. They looked up to see a girl with bright lapis blue eyes and royal blue hair standing by their table, her presence somehow making the dim classroom seem a little brighter. "Our table ran out of glue. May I borrow some from you guys?" Little Teruhashi Kokomi asked sweetly, her smile radiant.
The boy had been reaching for said glue stick when the girl across from him swiftly snatched it, her movement almost catlike in its speed. "Sorry. I'm gonna need it in a while," she said, her tone barely masking her irritation.
The boy frowned, his brow furrowing. "C'mon, it's fine to give it to them for a little bit, isn't it?" He tried reaching for the glue stick again.
"No, it's not," she said firmly, pulling the glue stick further away. She stuck her tongue out at him petulantly before resuming her work, clutching the glue stick in her free hand as if it were a precious artifact. Kokomi gave an understanding smile as she walked away.
Touya leaned on his fist, giving Junko a look that said 'Really?'
Finding her steadfastly ignoring him, he shook his head, another soft sigh escaping his lips. He opted to return to his drawing, picking up his pencil once more. He was eleven strokes in, when he felt a persistent tapping on his arm.
Now, what?
The thought was clear in his expression as he looked up.
The girl held up three rectangular strips of foil to his face, her eyes expectant. He gave her an incredulous look.
She returned an expression that seemed to say-
Well, what's the wait? I don't have all day.
He held up a blank look for a good few seconds, before finally snatching the proffered items off her hands.
"Fineee."
Returning to his project, he was making quick delicate work of using a tissue to smoothen the shading in his drawing when he noticed the woman pop up by their desk.
"Oh? Nice work!" She remarked, peering over Junko's shoulder. Looking up, the girl held up 'her' work, letting out a light "Hehe."
The boy spared a single roll of the eyes before proceeding with business.
The gentle morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the Teruhashi family's breakfast table. Kokomi had just taken a bite of her morning Tamagoyaki when the front door creaked open.
In stumbled Teruhashi Makoto, looking thoroughly disheveled. Behind him stood an older man, looking weary.
Eyes lighting up, she carefully placed her chopsticks beside her plate, her movements graceful even in her excitement. "Ohayo, nii-san! Papa!" she chirped, her small legs swinging rhythmically beneath her.
Smiling, the man walked up to the table. He reached out, his large hand gently ruffling Kokomi's perfectly styled blue hair. The gesture was a tender contrast to his somewhat imposing appearance.
From the kitchen counter, their mother turned, a dish towel draped over her shoulder. "Oh, did the shoot finish already?" she asked. "Nah," the man drawled, shaking his head, but disappeared into the living room without clarifying any further.
Kokomi's attention shifted to her brother. Makoto looked utterly spent as he slumped onto the dinner table, his forehead meeting the polished wood with a soft thud.
"Ne, Kokomi," he whined, his voice muffled by his arms. "Listen to this. That Imamura-ojisan keeps making me retake shots for the dumbest reasons." He lifted his head slightly, revealing eyes ringed with exhaustion. "I think he has a grudge against me or something."
Kokomi slid down from her chair, her small feet padding softly against the floor. She made her way to the chair next to Makoto, climbing up with determined grace.
Leaning over, she reached out her tiny hand and began to gently pat his head. "There, there," she cooed.
Watching the scene unfold with a light smile playing on her lips, the woman shook her head slightly before glancing at the clock on the wall.
"C'mon, young lady. You'll be late if you don't finish breakfast soon."
Touya bent over, hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing. His hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. Nearby, Junko lay sprawled on the grass, her chest heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.
"W-what a stupid waste of time," she muttered, her voice breathless.
They were on the grassy patch next to the track area, with the rest of the class slowly pouring in from the final lap.
"Whoever told you dummies to run yourselves ragged?" the supervising teacher said, overhearing, as she stepped past to indicate something of a 'C'mon guys! You're almost there!' at the stragglers. Her whistle dangled around her neck, occasionally catching the sunlight as she moved.
"I'm parched," Junko panted. Making a drinking gesture, "Get me some water? I forgot my bottle in my bag." Her hair, usually simple and straight, was a mess, sticking out at odd angles.
The boy scrunched his brows, frowning. "Go get it yourself."
The girl made a pout, her lower lip jutting out dramatically. She flopped her arm for emphasis, as if to demonstrate her complete exhaustion.
Touya stared unimpressed.
Kokomi brought herself to a stop with a delicate skid, her cheeks flushing a light rosy pink, panting softly. Turning around, she cheered as her friend rounded the final bend, exchanging quick double high fives as she finished.
"Oh gosh, she looks so darn cute!" Junko overheard the boys beside her gush. "Especially in those gym shorts!"
"And the way she kept slowing down so that she wouldn't leave Maki by herself. She's so attentive like that!"
Standing slightly apart from the group, Junko finished taking a bewildered swig from her water bottle. "Until last year, it was like they didn't even know what a girl was. And now they're all that. What a bunch of idiots..." she muttered, shaking her head.
Touya, looking slightly worse for wear than he did two minutes ago, chimed in. "Kokomi-chan is pretty cute, though?" His shirt was drenched with sweat, sticking to his torso.
"Yeah, yeah." Junko said, rolling her eyes. Taking another swig, she caught the teacher start ushering the students back to the classroom. Getting up, she made to screw in the lid to the bottle, but paused, her gaze lingering on Touya for a moment.
He raised a brow when she held the bottle out. Need some? Her expression seemed to indicate. The boy considered it for a moment before returning a, Nah, I'm good.
She shrugged.
Suwite yourself.
It had been a minute since Kokomi had waved her friends bye as they'd parted ways. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the quiet suburban streets, painting everything in warm, golden hues. As she turned a corner, she spotted a familiar face.
"Ah, Matsuda-san!" She called out, offering a polite bow to the elderly man walking his dog. Her school uniform swayed gently in the breeze.
"Ah, Kokomi-chan." The man returned a kind smile, crow's feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. He noticed his dog perk up, its tail wagging as it pulled against its leash in dogtastic excitement.
"Whoa there, buddy!" he said, maintaining the leash taut. The large, fluffy Akita Inu strained towards Kokomi, its tongue lolling out happily.
Gesturing a, 'May I?', and getting her assent, Kokomi reached to ruffle its fur. "He's so soft!" she said, her fingers sinking into the plush coat. The dog leaned into her touch, clearly enjoying the attention.
"Ahaha, you should see how much he sheds!" The man replied, shaking his head with fond exasperation. "I almost ended up having some of that fur for breakfast. It gets everywhere!"
Kokomi let out a melodious giggle, reaching to scratch it behind the ear. The dog's eyes closed in bliss. "He was just this tall a while ago!" She indicated her knee-height, marveling. "He must be eating lots!"
"He sure is!" the man replied, leaning over to pat its belly. The dog concurred with an excited woof!
"Jolly, aren't you, boy?" He chuckled, his weathered hand contrasting with the dog's thick fur. "Being pet by such an exquisitely lovely little lady?"
Her cheeks flushed a little at the compliment. But she took it with a bright smile that seemed to light up the entire street. "Thank you for letting me pet him. He's adorable!"
The old man nodded warmly. "Anytime."
Her steps were light and cheerful as she arrived home. "Tadaima!" She called out from the entryway.
She put down her bag by the couch just as her mom peeked over from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Okaeri. How was school?" the woman asked, a warm smile on her face. Kokomi scuttled over to the kitchen, her socks sliding a bit on the polished wooden floor.
A delicious aroma filled her senses. She rendered a playfully regal, "Oh, such and such."
Her mom chuckled, nodding as she turned back to stir the pot on the stove. Kokomi continued, "Yumi-chan said Bon-chan's scared of going outdoors nowadays."
"Oh, because of the bee incident? The poor thing."
"Yeah." She said as she tried looking over the counter, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view. "We also had PE today. Oh, and I also ran into Matsuda-san on the way." Her face lit up in a smile. "Marumaru-kun's gotten so huge!"
"Oh?"
As she finished washing her hands in the washroom, she paused for a moment, catching her reflection in the mirror. The soft glow of the bathroom light cast gentle shadows across her features.
"Jolly, aren't you, boy? Being pet by such an exquisitely lovely little lady?" The old man's words lingered in her mind.
The cool ceramic of the sink pressed against her stomach as she leaned closer to the mirror. Tilting her head slightly, she studied her face, tracing the lines and curves with an oddly critical gaze.
Pondering, she let her lips curve into a playful, girlish expression, adding a cutesy tilt of her shoulders. She held it for a moment, watching as her reflection mimicked the pose. Then she let it fade, feeling a tinge of dissatisfaction. Something about it didn't quite feel right.
Trying again, she set her shoulders back, straightening her posture. This time, she offered a composed, elegant smile. Holding it, she assessed the change.
Somehow, the girl in the mirror felt... just a bit... different?
The giggle that broke her little poised facade was light and infectious, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. As it faded, she found herself nodding to herself.
Turning away from the mirror, she made her way to the living room, her steps just a touch lighter than before.
"Ooh.." observed Yumi, leaning over. "Kokomi-chan really has such cute handwriting!"
The afternoon sun streamed through the many windows of Hikarinotani Elementary School's library, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floors. The air was thick with the scent of old books and fresh paper, mingling with the earthy aroma of fallen leaves drifting in from the courtyard outside. Most students had left for the day, leaving the hallways eerily quiet, save for the distant echo of a mop bucket squeaking against the linoleum.
The girl in question, Kokomi, made a small, abashed smile. "Not really...," she mumbled.
"I knew it was right to leave it to you," Yumi continued, patting the bluenette on the shoulder.
From across the table, Maki paused in her own work, looking over with curiosity. Her round glasses slipped down her nose a bit as she leaned forward to get a better look. Beside her, Junko sat with a scowl etched on her face, her hair seeming to bristle with irritation.
"Why do I have to waste my time on this stupid...," Junko muttered, her voice low but clearly audible in the quiet library. She was laboring against a piece of lime-colored pastel sheet, cutting out pieces shaped like bamboo leaves.
Ignoring Junko's grumbling, Yumi pulled up a sketch she had been working on. "Now, for the drawing.. Do we go with something like this?" She held up the paper, revealing some quickly laid out shapes and contours that portrayed a kimono-wearing girl standing across from a boy in a hakama atop what looked like a wooden bridge.
"Oh, nice! Nice!" Maki perked up, clasping her hands together softly, minding the librarian a few aisles away.
Beaming, Yumi continued, "And then maybe we add glitter to make it look like the river is made of stars?" Kokomi nodded an enthusiastic assent. "That's a great idea!" she exclaimed in a soft tone.
"The bridge," Maki chimed in eagerly, "it's supposed to be made of birds, right? What if we collected feathers to make the bridge?"
Yumi considered her proposition, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Where would you even get the feathers?" The other girl just shrugged, her enthusiasm undimmed by practical concern.
Junko rolled her eyes, the group's excited chatter incomprehensible as it washed over her. Each movement of her hand was punctuated by a sharp, emphatic snip.
...How had she ended up with this particular trio for their group project anyway?
Their assignment was simple enough: an open-ended exploration of any festival, as long as another group hadn't already claimed it.
Tanabata, they had decided for theirs. Well, Yumi had, with Kokomi and Maki eagerly going along. And the remainder having been physically incapable of caring less.
As for the festival itself-
For the uninitiated. On the 7th day of the 7th month of the year, a bridge made of some hundreds of thousands of Azure-Winged Magpies is said to span the heavenly river (a.k.a, the Milky Way), this feat of avian engineering serving to reunite the two star-crossed lovers, Vega & Altair - the brightest stars of their respective constellations of Lyra and Aquila.
But also, respectively (and figuratively) Orihime and Hikoboshi. The weaver princess, daughter to the king of the skies Tentei, and the cow herder boy she was wed to. Respectively.
A classic tale of girl meets boy, girl marries boy, girl and boy get separated by girl's dad and can only meet once a year via bridge made of birds. A tale as old as time.
Tanabata celebrated their once in a year reunion as a Japanese festival of wishes, with said wishes written onto thin strips of paper (called tanzaku) to be hung on bamboo branches, and thereafter, set afloat on rivers or burned, so that they may rise to the heavens.
That digression out of the way, back to the story.
"Uh, what... what do you think, Junko-san?" Kokomi tried prompting, her tone delicate as she tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear. "Do you have any ideas for our project?"
Yumi glanced over, her brow furrowing. Maki sported her trademark dopy expression, her round glasses slightly askew.
A bit caught off guard at being suddenly put on the spot, Junko paused in her cutting, glancing up. Her sharp eyes met Kokomi's for a brief moment before flicking away. "Do whatever," she offered brusquely, returning to her task.
Kokomi's shoulders slumped slightly.
"Never mind grumpy pants," Yumi said, waving her hand dismissively. "What do you think, Kokomi? What else should we do?"
Kokomi thought for a moment, her brow furrowed (cutely) in concentration.
"Uh...," she began. "What if... we made it so that people could write their wishes onto our poster?"
"That's a great idea! We could have some blank strips hanging off the bottom of our poster, and a bamboo branch sticking out from the top!"
Nodding to herself, Yumi scooted closer to their large poster sheet. Her fingers traced invisible lines across its surface as she spoke. "I can start blocking in where everything should go. While I'm doing that, could someone go grab some glitter from the arts and crafts classroom?"
Her gaze settled pointedly on Junko, who was still determinedly focused on her paper-cutting. A brief silence stretched, punctuated only by the rhythmic snipping of scissors.
"Don't we need to ask Morita-sensei first?" Maki finally chimed in. "Not that I want to be running around looking for her..."
"Ah, I can go try to find her," Kokomi offered, already pushing herself to her feet. Her smile was bright, if a little forced. "I think she might still be at the staffroom—"
"You really don't have to, Kokomi." Yumi's tone was firm as she turned an even more pointed look in Junko's direction. The dark-haired girl's scissors stilled, and she gave Yumi a sidelong glance, one eyebrow arched.
Yumi pressed on, her voice taking on a cajoling note. "Fukuhara, you're plenty fast, right? It shouldn't take any time if it's you." Junko's brow scrunched, her lips pressing into a thin line. The moment seemed to stretch. Kokomi was already heading towards the door as the other girl opened her mouth to deliver a retort.
"I-It's fine, Yumi-chan," Kokomi said hurriedly, her hand on the doorframe. "I'll go. Really, it's no trouble."
She was out the door before anyone could contradict her.
"Haah?!"
Yumi's sharp exclamation echoed into the hallway, causing Kokomi's ears to perk up.
Junko's voice retorted with a biting edge. "If mine's so bad, let's see you make a better one!"
"G-Guys?" Kokomi could make out Maki's tremulous attempt at peacemaking as she drew closer to the library. "L-Let's not get too ahead of ourselves..."
The librarian, a middle-aged woman with graying hair tucked into a neat bun, hastily set aside her magazine. Her chair scraped against the floor as she rose to intervene.
Junko sat rigidly in her chair, her face flush. With a dramatic gesture, she crumpled up the leaf she'd been meticulously working on and tossed it aside.
"Oh, it's not round enough. Oh, it's not cute enough. Oh, it's not bamboo-ey enough," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes performed an Olympic-worthy roll.
In a flurry of movement, Junko began shoving her supplies into her bag, papers crinkling and pencils clattering. "Well, my bad," she huffed as she yanked the zipper close and slung the bag over her shoulder.
"Wait! You're leaving?" Yumi exclaimed in disbelief. "We're not done yet!"
"I'm sure you'll figure something out, miss smarty-pants."
The librarian had nearly reached their table, her shoes squeaking against the polished floor. "Girls, please, let's calm down and—"
But Junko was already in motion, giving a wide berth to the approaching woman. She jogged towards the exit, quickly stepping out.
Only to find one Teruhashi Kokomi standing awkwardly in the hallway. The glitter shaker was clutched tightly in her hand, catching the afternoon light.
Little Kokomi found herself at a loss for words. "Um.." was all she managed to vocalize.
What was she to say?
For her part, Junko looked just a touch embarrassed as she brushed past Kokomi into the hallway. Kokomi turned, watching as the raven-haired girl's figure grew smaller in the distance, her footsteps echoing off the corridor walls, till she finally disappeared around the corner.
Glancing back into the library, Kokomi saw the librarian trying to settle down a visibly miffed Yumi, the brunette gesticulating wildly as she spoke in hushed but heated tones to the older woman.
Maki, still seated at the table, caught Kokomi's eye. Running her hand through her hair in an exaggerated head-scratching gesture, the girl resembled an electrocuted owl.
As for Kokomi. Standing in the doorway, as she tried to piece together what had transpired. Her general sentiment, inarticulate though it was in the heat of the moment. Read along the lines of—
...What on earth?