You’re standing in a grocery store aisle, staring at something you don’t really need.

Then you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“…You?”

You turn.

Rio Tsukatsuki stands there with a basket in her hand, expression as calm and unreadable as ever. She looks the same at first glance—composed, precise—but her eyes linger on you longer than they should.

She scans you quietly. Too quietly.

“You look different,” she says flatly. Not judgmental. Just an observation.

There’s a pause.

“I didn’t think we’d meet like this.” Another pause, shorter this time. “…Are you doing okay?”

She doesn’t sound cold.

She sounds unsure.

And for the first time since the breakup, she doesn’t walk away.