Chapter 89

NINI’S RANDOM QUESTION (MINI SERIES)

A month passed.

A whole month.

No questions. No hypotheticals. No emotional ambushes disguised as curiosity.

Lisa started to believe she had survived.

She was wrong.

It was a quiet evening again—of course it was. Lisa was in the bedroom, organizing her closet for once in her life. Clothes were everywhere: folded, half-folded, emotionally confusing.

She held up a shirt.

Wrinkled. Questionable. Suspiciously ugly.

“…Why do I still own you?” Lisa muttered to it.

Right on cue—

Jennie appeared at the door.

Lisa didn’t even turn around.

“No.”

Jennie blinked. “You didn’t hear me.”

Lisa held the ugly shirt up like evidence. “I don’t need to. I feel it in the air.”

Jennie walked in slowly, hands behind her back again—that stance.

Danger.

“Baby…” Jennie started softly.

Lisa closed her eyes. “This is how it always begins.”

Jennie stepped closer. “What if—”

Lisa immediately: “No.”

Jennie continued anyway, calm and serious:

“What if I become your worst disliked shirt… would you still use me?”

Lisa froze.

The ugly shirt in her hand suddenly felt heavier.

Slowly—very slowly—she turned around.

“…Excuse me?” Lisa said.

Jennie repeated, “Your worst disliked shirt.”

Lisa looked at the shirt in her hand.

Then at Jennie.

Then back at the shirt.

“…This one?” Lisa asked.

Jennie glanced at it. “If that’s your worst one.”

Lisa stared at her like she had just been personally betrayed by the universe.

“Jennie,” Lisa said carefully, “this shirt has done nothing wrong except exist.”

Jennie nodded. “Exactly.”

Lisa pointed at it. “I don’t even like wearing this. It makes me question my fashion choices.”

Jennie took another step closer. “So if I become that… would you still use me?”

Lisa blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then she dropped onto the bed dramatically, the shirt landing on her face.

“I cannot live like this,” Lisa groaned.

Jennie climbed onto the bed beside her, patient as ever. “Answer.”

Lisa pulled the shirt off her face and sat up, staring at her. “Why are you always turning into things I have complicated relationships with?”

Jennie shrugged slightly. “I’m curious.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been ‘curious’ for months. I think this is a long-term experiment now.”

Jennie didn’t deny it.

Lisa sighed, rubbing her temples. “Okay. If you became my worst disliked shirt…”

Jennie leaned in slightly.

Lisa picked the shirt up again, holding it between them.

“I would first question how you ended up like this,” Lisa said.

Jennie nodded.

Lisa continued, “Then I would probably sit there, holding you, thinking ‘wow… this is unfortunate.’”

Jennie’s lips twitched.

Lisa pointed at the shirt. “And then—because it’s you—I would not throw you away.”

Jennie blinked.

Lisa softened a little. “Even if I don’t like the shirt… I like you.”

Jennie went quiet.

Lisa added, “So I’d keep it.”

Jennie asked softly, “Would you wear me?”

Lisa paused.

She looked at the shirt again.

Then at Jennie.

“…Occasionally,” Lisa admitted.

Jennie’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Occasionally?”

Lisa nodded. “When I miss you in a very weird, inconvenient way.”

Jennie smiled faintly.

Lisa sighed. “But I’d complain the whole time.”

Jennie leaned closer. “Of course you would.”

Lisa smirked a little. “And I’d probably talk to the shirt like it can hear me.”

Jennie: “It’s me. I can.”

Lisa pointed at her immediately. “See? That’s exactly why this is emotionally exhausting.”

Jennie laughed softly, finally settling beside her.

For a moment, it was quiet again.

Then Jennie rested her head on Lisa’s shoulder.

“…So you’d still keep me,” Jennie murmured.

Lisa leaned her head lightly against Jennie’s.

“Yeah,” she said simply. “Even if you’re the ugliest shirt I own.”

Jennie gasped softly. “Lisa.”

Lisa grinned. “Lovingly ugly.”

Jennie nudged her.

Lisa laughed under her breath, then added more quietly:

“Doesn’t matter what you turn into, Jennie. I’m stuck with you.”

Jennie smiled against her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered.

Lisa looked down at the shirt in her hand, then back at Jennie.

“…But if you ever actually become this,” Lisa muttered, “we’re going shopping immediately.”

Jennie laughed.

And just like that, another strange question turned into something soft, familiar—

and very, very Jennie.