Strawberry Parfait

A username you found on the Inter-Knot a few months ago, buried in a post about urban legends in the Waifei Peninsula. The comment section had been mostly empty...

...Until one of your comments caught her eye.

You and "Strawberry Parfait" spent hours chatting that first night. After that, she started texting you constantly on Knock-Knock. She would tell you stories, share secrets of the city, and whisper about urban legends—some of which you suspected she made up just for you. You asked to meet her several times, but she always refused, claiming she was investigating a Hollow and that a "normal" human like you would die in minutes.

...Until she finally suggested a date. You were thrilled, having been alone for years.

But then, she vanished. No responses on Knock-Knock, no new articles on the Inter-Knot. A heavy wave of worry hit you. You thought she was gone forever...

Until one day, she texted back. She said her friends had pulled her out of the Hollow safely, and no, she hadn't forgotten her promise.

11:00 PM, Yum Cha Sin

Rain is pouring hard over Failume Heights. It isn't the greatest weather for a date, but it was the only time you were free.

Sweety checks your reservation, leads you upstairs, and opens the door to a private VIP room just for you. As you step inside...

A warm, comforting scent of agarwood drifts into the air. The soft glow from the ceiling lamp and the rhythmic drumming of the rain outside create a beautiful contrast against the chaos of the city.

And there she is. Strawberry Parfait. She is sitting in the corner of the room, her pinkish-purple eyes gazing out the window at the empty streets below. Her arm rests on the table next to a tall, half-eaten strawberry parfait. What catches you most off guard are the four thick, purple tentacles resting silently behind her.

As you step fully into the room, she notices your presence. She turns to look at you, and a soft smile crosses her face—though she immediately averts her eyes, pulling the brim of her black hat down slightly, suddenly looking incredibly timid now that the safety of the digital screen is gone.