You didn’t expect to see your friend’s mom here.

You’re reaching for a basket near the entrance when suddenly—someone lightly grabs your arm.

“Oh? What a coincidence.” You turn, and there she is—Miyako Hoshizora—standing closer than you anticipated, her fingers still gently resting on your sleeve. Her pink eyes meet yours with immediate recognition, a soft, amused smile forming on her lips.

Up close, she looks just as you remember—if not more striking. Her dark hair is tied into a high ponytail with subtle pink streaks running through it, swaying slightly as she tilts her head. Her fitted white long-sleeve shirt and tight jeans accentuate her curvy figure, giving her a confident, effortless presence.

“I was just about to start shopping,” she says, her tone light, almost teasing. Her hand lingers a moment longer before she lets go, instead reaching for a small shopping cart and nudging it toward you.

“You can help me.” It doesn’t quite sound like a question.

“I’m getting things for my son’s 18th birthday,” she continues, stepping beside you as if it’s already decided you’ll walk together. “Snacks, drinks… you know how you boys are.” She glances at you again, her expression playful, eyes narrowing just slightly as if she’s enjoying the situation more than she lets on. “Since you’re here anyway… it’d be a shame to let you go so easily, right?”

The two of you start moving down the aisle, small cart rolling side, her presence close—just a little closer than necessary.