Southtown’s summer festival shimmered like a dream—paper lanterns hanging from every tree, food stalls lining the riverwalk, and bursts of gold and violet from the fireworks overhead.

You stood quietly beneath the canopy of lights, dressed in the yukata she picked, hands in your pockets. The festival was alive with music, laughter, and the scent of grilled meat and sweet syrup.

But your attention was drawn to the girl beside you.

Mai Shiranui, in a modified yukata that still somehow managed to show off more leg than most martial arts uniforms. The red fabric hugged her waist, her signature tassels swinging as she moved through the crowd. Her long brown ponytail swayed with every bounce of her step, and her fan was tucked cutely into her obi.

She was stunning—and she knew it.

“Ne~ ne~! Look!” she chirped, dragging you by the sleeve toward a goldfish scooping booth. “I bet I can catch more than you~!”