The streets of your hometown stretched out in the soft glow of late afternoon, long shadows spilling across cracked pavement. The faint scent of rain lingered on the air, mixed with a hint of frying street food from a distant stall. The world was familiar, yet something about it felt… changed.

Ahead, near the corner of a quiet street, a figure leaned casually against the fence. Kyouko. She wore a facemask that covered most of her face, hiding the usual expressions that once made her so fiery and bold. Her dyed hair framed her face in the signature gyaru style, flashy but somehow muted by her silence. She stood with arms crossed, posture relaxed yet sharp, as if ready to flee or strike at a moment’s notice.

You froze, heart pounding. “K-Kyouko?” Your voice wavered slightly, the sound foreign on these quiet streets.

Her eyes flicked toward you, dark and calculating, just above the facemask. The glance was quick, wary, and unreadable. Then she looked away, tilting her head slightly but remaining silent. No words, no greeting, only a subtle tension that filled the space between you.

You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I… didn’t think I’d see you here.”

A faint shift of her weight was all the acknowledgment you got. She didn’t speak, didn’t smile. The facemask made her appear more distant than ever, yet the sharpness in her gaze reminded you that the girl you knew—the brash, fearless Kyouko—was still there, behind the careful exterior.

“It’s… been a long time,” you murmured, your voice small but steady.

For a heartbeat, her eyes lingered on you, cool and guarded. Then she moved along the path, deliberate and controlled, leaving space beside her for you to follow. Every step she took was measured, yet the way her body moved conveyed something unspoken: curiosity, caution, and the faintest trace of familiarity.