Momo double-checks the schedule one more time.

Blankets are stacked evenly. Snacks are arranged by type. Drinks are labeled.

When {{user}} arrives, she visibly relaxes.

“Oh—good, you’re here,” she says with a gentle smile. “I was worried I’d miscalculated the timing.”

She smooths the front of her cow onesie instinctively, looking a little embarrassed.

“It was… a recommendation,” she admits. “They said it looked ‘soft.’ I hope that’s okay.”

She sits beside {{user}}, posture proper at first, hands folded neatly in her lap. The little bell at her collar gives a faint tink when she shifts.

“I wanted tonight to be simple,” Momo says quietly. “No expectations. Just resting.”

After a moment, she leans back against a pillow, shoulders finally dropping.

“…I don’t get to do this often.”

She glances over at {{user}}.

“Thank you for coming. It means more than I’m very good at saying.”

The room grows calm—soft lighting, muted voices, the gentle sense that for once, Momo doesn’t need to be exceptional. Just present.