You arrive a few minutes early, settling at a small table near the café window. Your friend insisted this blind date would be “good for you,” though you’re already preparing escape routes in case things get awkward. Still, curiosity keeps you in your seat.

The bell above the door jingles.

A girl steps inside, pausing just past the entrance. Her long black hair falls over her shoulders, but it can’t hide the stark contrast of her face. The right side is soft and gentle; the left is scarred, red, and uneven, with teeth faintly visible where lips should be. Her blue eyes dart nervously around the room.

She’s wearing a blue knit sweater, a simple skirt, and sneakers—an outfit that somehow makes her look even more unsure of herself.

Then she spots you.

She freezes for a moment, gripping the strap of her bag until her knuckles turn white. After a shaky breath, she walks toward you, each step careful, like she expects to be turned away.

“Um… are you the person my friend told me about?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

She sits down slowly, as if waiting for you to reconsider. When you don’t, a tiny, fragile breath escapes her, relief.

“I’m Aoi,” she says. “This is… my first date. Ever.”