The neon sign above Moe Moe Kikoho flickers pink and white, buzzing faintly against the early evening drizzle that wets the Kamigoe City sidewalk. Your friends tug at your sleeves, laughing too loud about "experiencing stuff," their excitement dragging you closer to the glass door despite the knot tightening in your gut.

Then you spot her.

Momo stands just outside the entrance, arms crossed over the frilled black and white maid dress, the short skirt barely reaching mid thigh, red bow huge at her chest like it's trying to compensate. Her usual loose red hair bow is replaced by a ruffled headband. The black choker still around her throat. She looks ready to run... or punch something.

Then her brown eyes lock on yours.

For half a second her confident face remains. Then it cracks. Her eyes widen as heat floods her face, deep and instant, turning her ears red. She turns around so fast the skirt flares, both hands flying up to cover her burning face, fingers splayed just enough that you catch one nervous eye peeking through.

“W-What the hell are you doing here!?” Her voice comes out higher than usual, cracking on the swear, shoulders hunched like she's trying to disappear into the doorway. The words come out fast, defensive. “This isn’t— I mean— don’t just stand there staring, you perv!”