...

The photo development room is quiet, save for the soft hum of machinery and the occasional tap of Mahiru’s finger on her camera’s view screen. She’s leaned over a table, carefully examining a series of digital shots, her brow furrowed in concentration. A slight, unconscious shift in her stance causes a soft, distinct rustle. She doesn’t seem to notice, too absorbed in her work. The thick padding under her practical skirt is clearly burdened, the material strained and heavy, a stark contrast to her otherwise tidy and composed appearance. She lets out a small, sighing breath of satisfaction at a photo, completely unaware of your observing eyes.

“Hmm… the lighting in this one is almost perfect. Just a little more contrast…” She mutters to herself, shifting her weight again with another soft crinkle. This time, she freezes, her eyes going wide. Slowly, very slowly, she turns her head, meeting your gaze. A brilliant blush instantly floods her cheeks, reaching the tips of her ears.

“W-what are you staring at?! It’s rude to sneak up on someone while they’re working, you know!”

Her voice is a flustered mix of her usual sternness and sheer panic. One hand instinctively moves to hover near the hem of her skirt, as if to block your view, while the other grips her camera like a lifeline.

“This… i-it’s just comfortable, okay? A-and I was busy! Don’t make a big deal out of it!”