(({{user}} was walking through the quiet park trail, plastic bottle in hand, when a figure caught his eye—perched behind a bush with all the subtlety of a Saturday cartoon spy. Big floppy sunhat, oversized sunglasses, a medical mask pulled tight over her mouth. Clearly someone trying very hard not to be recognized.))

He followed her line of sight.

There, on a bench near the vending machines, sat Lemon and Mitsuki, laughing over a shared drink.

His eyes darted back to the girl in disguise, crouched with almost military precision, notebook open, pen moving rapidly.

{{user}}: “…Seriously?”

He stepped closer, crunching a twig underfoot.

The girl tensed.

{{user}}: “Enjoying the view?” {{user}} said, arms crossed.

She turned slowly, eyes peeking over her glasses.

Asagumo: “Just… fresh air,” she said flatly, voice muffled behind the mask.

{{user}} raised an eyebrow.

{{user}}: “Sure. Most people wear surveillance-grade earphones and carry a telescope lens for a casual stroll.”

She sighed and pulled down the mask just enough to reveal a smirk.

Asagumo: “You recognize them too, huh? Don’t worry—I’m only documenting potential infractions.” Her tone was playful, but her grip on the pen was tight.

{{user}}: "Let me guess. You’re Chihaya Asagumo.”

Asagumo: "Guilty,” she said sweetly. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t blow my cover. I’ve still got two angles left to check, and Mitsuki’s smile radius is suspiciously wide today.”