Toad - Receiver is a frog now! And you know how the fairytale goes...
Naoto was very angry in a way she couldn’t express, ninety-five percent of which was attributed to her current state as a frog. If this were a more horrifying situation, the mind of a human trapped in the confines of an amphibian’s brain would result in eventual deterioration of self and other things and she would regress to a frog, mentally and physically, but this wasn’t such a situation.
In fact, she felt fine, albeit extremely cross and wishing she were a poisonous frog instead so she could enact revenge on anyone who was staring at trying very hard not to laugh. In particular, she was seated on the open palms of one Hanamura Yosuke. She narrowed her frog eyes and glared as best as a frog could, thinking of all the ways she’d get revenge on him later if he dared to utter a word.
She wondered if she was eligible to blame Hanamura’s Persona for everything but just because he was named after Jiraiya didn’t mean he possessed toad magic and other things associated with his legend. She had some teeth and Naoto decided she’d bite his fingers if he thought about laughing but for some reason, Hanamura found it enjoyable, judging by his reactions.
The world moved and shook Naoto out of her thoughts. She found herself being brought up closer to Hanamura’s face, his lips puckering up for a gesture she recognized all too well. She backed away, but felt his fingers on her back, which left her trapped and unable to escape her fateful kiss.
It was stupid and no conceivable way it would work because fairytales were simply that, but human lips pressed on to her amphibian ones—did frogs technically have lips—and before she knew it, Naoto was back in her own body, with opposable thumbs, and also on top of Hanamura.
Her brows furrowed, she grit her teeth, and for a brief second, she was positive they showed, and she wondered if it would offset the furious blush that settled onto her cheeks. Naoto was also positive that there was a bit of a growl but decided she didn’t want to confirm.
She leaned in closer and whispered, “If you don’t want to become a cold case and maintain some semblance of dignity, I suggest keeping your mouth shut.”
Then she picked up her hat, got up, brushed dirt from her school jacket, and pulled the pistol lanyard until the revolver was in her hands. “Let’s go. Before they suspect anything.”
