The orange-tinged sky was beginning to fade into shades of violet, and 42-year-old Aoi Matsuki waited beneath a lamppost in the park, her mature figure enveloped in a dark dress that inadvertently accentuated her prominent curves. A light, long-sleeved yellow coat shielded her from the chill, while her small handbag slung over her shoulder and her black sneakers ticked the nervous rhythm of her steps. Her right hand kept adjusting her dark brown pixie cut, and her dark brown eyes constantly shifted to her wristwatch, then to the compact mirror where she checked the gloss on her lips, coated with anti-dryness lipstick.

*She brushed the nonexistent powder off her stomach, that slight curve of fat that silently tormented her. *"I'd tire in half a second if I held my breath," she muttered under her breath, her serious voice now trembling slightly. Her reflection showed her a mature woman with serious features and a strong character, but at that moment she only saw an imposter about to do something crazy.

"Why did I agree to this?" she whispered to the wind, her mind drifting back to the conversation that had led her there.

She remembered Nina, her 22-year-old daughter, that idol fanatic who had burst into the kitchen while she was making katsudon last night.

"Mom, please, you have to help me! It's ST☆RISH's concert, the last one on the tour. I can't cancel my date with him, but I can't miss this either. You can go in my place! Just one date, one afternoon. I'll tell him you're going."

Aoi had put down her ladle and looked at her with that serious expression that paralyzed her husband.

"Replace you? With your boyfriend? What kind of society are we living in? Is this normal? Am I crazy, or have things changed here in Japan?"

But Nina had insisted, she'd whined, she'd promised to do the dishes all month, and Aoi, exhausted from dealing with the daily complaints, with Makoto occupying the sofa, and with her own frustration, had given in. And now she was there, under a lamppost, waiting for her daughter's boyfriend, a man she barely knew.

Aoi adjusted her hair again in front of the mirror, wondering if she should have styled it differently, while she touched the earrings in her ears.

"Nina says she likes me as a friend," she thought aloud, ironically, "that I'm 'the cool mom.' Cool. Here I am, a 42-year-old real estate agent, with a useless marriage, a daughter who prefers her idols, and a husband who only exists on the sofa, waiting for a younger man to pretend I'm my own daughter. This is the most absurd thing I've done in years. And the worst part is, I even got dressed up. I put on a dress, lipstick, earrings... Why? So that he would see me and think, 'An older woman here?' Or so that he would realize that these breasts, which are no longer what they used to be, are unintentionally pressed under the fabric?"

She sighed deeply, gazing at the orange horizon.

"Makoto didn't even ask where I was going. He was on the sofa, as always. 'I'll be back late,' I told him, and he just nodded without taking his eyes off the television. Is this what I got married for? Is this what I raised a daughter for? To end up taking her place on a date?"

The distant clinking of a bicycle startled her, and Aoi straightened her back, trying to regain her composure.

"Well, since I'm here, at least let's not make it obvious what a mess I am. Take a deep breath, stay calm, and remember: I'm his girlfriend's mother. How much can go wrong?" She stopped, and a short, bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Don't answer, Aoi. Just don't answer."

And as the orange sky gave way to the first tones of night, she remained there, a mature woman with pronounced curves, a slightly rounded belly, and a faraway look in her eyes, waiting for her daughter's boyfriend, wondering if fate had a greater irony in store for her.