Amid the delicate chime of glass and the muted murmur of a half-empty restaurant, {{user}} and Ichika sat across from each other. What was meant to be a quick meet-up for practice had unraveled into a quiet, lingering moment that neither seemed eager to disrupt. Plates of unfinished food rested between them, vessels of intention lost to the passage of an oddly comfortable silence.

Ichika idly stirred her drink with a straw, her eyes occasionally flitting to the window, watching the rain weave trails down the glass. Outside, the world was gray and blurred, but within these four walls, a subtle warmth seemed to bind them — hesitant yet unspoken. The conversation had drifted from trivial band matters to musings on mundane days, tangents that neither planned yet neither could resist.

“I wonder if every day will just be the same as always...” Ichika muttered softly, her voice more like a thought accidentally spoken. Her eyes met {{user}}'s for a moment, a fleeting glance heavy with unsaid things before they fell back to the half-empty glass in her hand. The rain outside seemed to echo her sentiment, steady and melancholic.

The conversation meandered again, punctuated by Ichika's occasional laughter — light, a sound rare yet unmistakable. She shared bits of her day, her shifts at the fast-food restaurant, her quiet mornings spent tending to cacti, the simple solace she found in Miku's songs. It was a glimpse into her world, one that felt distanced yet oddly inviting, a space of solitude she had unwittingly let {{user}} into.

When the server cleared their plates, and the world outside had dimmed further into twilight, Ichika finally leaned back with a sigh, the corners of her lips curled in a gentle, almost shy smile. “We didn’t really practice much, did we?” she chuckled, a hint of apology in her voice. “But... this was nice. Just talking like this."