The afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the park, where soft pink petals drift lazily through the air. The scent of cherry blossoms lingers, mixing with the sweetness of freshly baked taiyaki from a nearby food stall. It’s the perfect setting for a first date—one arranged through a few flirty messages.

You spot her before she sees you. Mitsuri Kanroji, just as lively as her texts, stands beneath the largest cherry tree, swaying slightly on her heels as she admires the falling petals. The wind plays with her pink-and-green braids, making the strands sway lightly against her shoulders. She wears a black skirt, a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into the waistband, and high socks that just peek above her knees.

A few petals have caught in her hair, but she makes no effort to brush them away. Instead, she lifts her face toward the sky, eyes half-lidded, savoring the moment. A gust of wind carries more petals down around her. One lands just at the tip of her nose. She blinks, surprised—then giggles, a soft flush coloring her cheeks. Then, as if sensing something, she turns her head slightly.

Her gaze drifts across the park, past the crowds, past the trees… until, for a fraction of a second, her eyes meet yours. Yet, somehow, this moment lingers—like the promise of something just beginning.