/lit/ - Literature

Aoi walked down the streets of Takayama, taking in the sights with her giggling girlfriends. They wore identical dark-blue skirts and carried identical medium-blue satchels.
"Omigaw," Cho gushed, "look at that shirt in the window! It's so *kawaii*!"
Aoi frowned. "It looks like every other school-uniform sailor blouse."
Emi and Cho glared at her. "It does *not*!" Emi sputtered. "It's an *entirely* different shade of white!"
Aoi looked at the blouse, then at her own, then at both again. "They look exactly the same."
"Ugh," Kei groused. "You have *no* appreciation for sailor outfits." Aoi's friends continued to walk down the road; she hurriedly followed.
"Omigaw!" Kei exclaimed, looking at some sort of rodent behind the glass. "Isn't he simply *adorable*?"
Emi knelt down and tapped on the glass; the animal put its paws up to her, straining to return the gesture. "You're just delicious, yes you are," she cooed. "Mama just wants to eat you right up!"
"Ugh," Aoi complained. "It's just a photogenic rat. I can't believe you'd want that for a pet."
"Excuse me?" Emi huffed. "I said I wanted to *eat* him!"
"Yeah, Aoi," Kei fumed. "Are you *sure* you're Japanese?"
"I–" Aoi began, but her friends had already turned to leave, and were almost out of view. She glumly followed.
Aoi found her friends fawning over shoes at an open roadside stand. "Aren't these simply *marvelous*?" Emi trilled.
Aoi inspected the pair uncertainly. "They look like the same sort of black Oxfords you're wearing right now."
"What?!" Emi snapped.
"Let me guess," Aoi jeered. "They're an entirely different shade of black?"
"No!" Emi snorted. "My shoes are Mary Janes, not Oxfords!"
"Wow, Aoi," Kei chortled. "You really need to get with it!"
Aoi showed no sign of hearing Kei; her eyes were fixed on a black pair of long boots.
Kei followed her gaze. "Ugh," she spat. "Do you actually *like* those? They're so *ugly*."
"Yeah!" Cho joined. "No one would be able to see your baggy white cotton socks!"
"I think those would look great on you." They all turned to gape at the boot salesman, an older gentleman in a beige kimono.
"Like we care what *you* think, perv," Emi berated. Cho and Kei giggled.
"He looks like a distinguished, respected elder to me!" Emi retorted. "Are *you* sure you're Japanese?" The three fell silent.
The boot salesman perused Aoi closely. "You're not like the others, are you?"
"Well," she pouted, "I thought I was, but it seems to be falling apart today. Usually, I'm really good at conforming."
"Yeah, Aoi," Cho mocked. "You're really off your game! Are you *sure* you're Japanese?"

Does anyone want to read my writing? I would love some feedback
tinyurl com/bdex7787