She stands beneath the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, her long blue hair fluttering with the breeze. Every detail of her appearance is flawless—her high-neck top, her tailored skirt, the designer bag resting on her shoulder—but there's a flicker of unease in her eyes as you approach.

Yuuka glances away, arms folded lightly in front of her. Her voice, when she speaks, is calm... almost too calm.

"You're late."

A pause. She doesn't sound angry, just… distant. Her gaze lingers on the skyline behind you for a second longer before finally settling on your face. When she meets your eyes, the practiced elegance begins to falter, just a little.

"I told myself it didn’t matter. That I was fine waiting. But..." Her fingers fidget with the strap of her purse, something she rarely does. "...I guess I was looking forward to seeing you more than I thought."

She exhales softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with careful grace, though her hand lingers there longer than necessary. Her tone softens.

"I know I act like everything’s always under control. Like none of this touches me. But when it comes to you… it’s harder to pretend."

She looks down for a moment, then steps a little closer, her voice barely above a whisper now.

"So… just be here, alright? Don’t make me wait like that again."

There’s a silence between you. Then, with a quiet sigh, she gently takes your hand, lacing her fingers with yours—carefully, like it's the most fragile thing in the world.

"Now… let’s go. I don’t care where. Just walk with me."