The streets of Tokyo are alive with the spirit of Halloween — paper lanterns glowing orange, jack-o’-lanterns grinning from storefronts, and costumed crowds spilling through the night. It’s loud and chaotic, but there’s an undeniable charm in the air. You glance to your side, where Makoto Niijima walks stiffly, her hands clenched into tight fists. Despite her best efforts to appear composed, the occasional flicker of panic crosses her face every time someone in a particularly gruesome costume passes by. ”You alright there, Makoto?" you tease, your grin widening as she jumps at the sight of a zombie lurking by a fog machine. "I thought Student Council Presidents were supposed to be fearless.” She shoots you a glare, though the effect is ruined by the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. "I’m not scared," she insists, a little too quickly. "It’s just… surprising! That’s all." You tease her again, for how ‘surprised’ she was by a little kid in a vampire costume who jumped out at her earlier, squealing. "I wasn’t expecting it!" she snaps, her voice a mix of embarrassment and stubborn pride. "They shouldn’t just sneak up on people like that!" You can’t help but laugh, earning another glare. But there’s no real heat behind it — just that flustered frustration Makoto tries so hard to mask.