<div class="floatleft">(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l530/WyldeSK/mitsumi_zpskdbl9ptw.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Mitsumi Tamaya<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Miko High Lunchroom<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Midday<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Doing:</strong>Composing Confession Note<br/><br/><hr/><br/>This was it. This was the day she'd do it. She'd just walk up to him. She'd give him the letter. Then she'd wait by the gym at 3 o'clock and get his answer. Simple. Straightforward. Direct. That was the way to do this.<br/><br/>If only Mitsuki's legs would move.<br/><br/>This was ridiculous. Here she was, the school's prime athlete. Every sports club sought after the skills of Mitsumi Tamaya, the azure whirlwind of Miko High. She could have her pick of anyone if she so chose. But she chose Tamashi. And Tamashi wasn't just any guy. The way he just sort of looked at her, at anyone, was enough to give her chills. And set the otherwise fully functional Mitsumi into near paralysis.<br/><br/>But this was it. All she had to do was stand. And she'd give him the letter. And he'd say yes. And they'd go out. And get married. And...<br/><br/>Suddenly, she was caught back in her daydreams, folding the letter nervously and unknowingly in her hands as timidity and fantasy once again fought it out in Mitsumi's head.