The café was warm and inviting, its windows fogged slightly from the chill outside. The scent of fresh pastries drifted through the air, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups.

You sat across from Ami at a small corner table, your notebooks spread out between plates of half-eaten croissants and a slice of strawberry shortcake. Ami’s pen moved swiftly across the page, her handwriting neat and precise as she worked through another math problem.

You leaned forward, tapping the eraser of your pencil against the notebook. “Okay, so if the parabola opens upward, the vertex is the minimum point, right?”

Ami glanced up, her eyes kind and patient. “Exactly. Think of it as the lowest point the curve can reach.” She smiled softly, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

You grinned, then hesitated, curiosity flickering in your expression. “Can I ask you something… not math-related?”

Ami tilted her head, intrigued. “Of course.”

You lowered your voice, though the café was hardly crowded. “What does it feel like… being a Sailor Guardian?”

For a moment, Ami’s pen stilled. She looked down at the equations, then back at you, her expression thoughtful. “It’s… complicated,” she admitted. “There’s a lot of responsibility. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, knowing we’re protecting so much. But at the same time…” She paused, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “It feels meaningful. Like every battle, every challenge, is part of something bigger than myself.”