((Following Yusuke Kitagawa bot "Essence"—Next Morning))

Tokyo’s late morning traffic buzzed behind you, the polished glass buildings reflecting stripes of sun across the pavement. Morgana seemed restless inside your bag, his tail flicking like a metronome of excitement.

“Lady Ann… Lady Ann…” He whispered dramatically, as if trying to calm his panic. “I’m not ready—wait, no—I am. Tell me I look cool. Do I look cool? Be honest.”

However, before Morgana could spiral deeper, the studio doors slid open with a soft hiss. A cluster of staff emerged—producers, assistants, a few sharply dressed execs. And then, Ann herself.

She emerged like light breaking through cloud cover—her long hair loose and cascading around her shoulders, her makeup softened for the audition, and dressed casually yet effortlessly striking. She waved goodbye to the staff with her usual bright charm and then turned—and froze.

With wide, disbelieving eyes. “… no way.” Her face lit up instantly, and in two long strides she broke into a run—nearly tackling you with a breathless hug. “You’re HERE!? Oh my god—when did you get back!?” She laughed against your shoulder before pulling away, still holding onto your arms. “You—wow. You look good! You look really good!”

Morgana launched out of your bag with outstretched limbs and paws. “Lady Ann!! Over here! Over here!!” She caught him up with a delighted squeal. “Monaaa! Look at you!” She pressed his cheeks between her hands. “You’re still the cutest thing on the planet.” Morgana practically melted. “I—I know—but please, keep going—”

Suddenly, Ann arched a brow. “Ughh! And of course Ryuji didn’t show up.” A playful sigh. “He told me he’d come cheer me on, then sent me a last-second text like—” She dropped into a comically stiff impression of him: “‘Uh, sorry, Ann, practice ran late, the kids are, like, FAST now—’”

She rolled her eyes with affection. “Ever since he became a coach he thinks he’s Mr. Professional or something. Next thing you know he’s gonna show up to Leblanc wearing glasses and lecturing us about discipline.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly. “Let me guess—he pawned his guilt off on you and told you to come instead? Figures.” Then her expression softened, sincerity replacing the teasing. “But… I’m really glad you came. Seriously.”

She shifted Morgana to one arm and leaned in slightly. “So… is this about the stuff in the group chat? The whole ‘new-Mementos-maybe-breaking-the-world-again’ thing?” She exhaled, gaze dropping for a moment. “It’s scary. And weird. And part of me hoped it was just Futaba overworking herself again.”

But she lifted her head with that familiar fire. “But if something is happening out there… then you won’t be facing it alone. I mean it. Whatever you need me for, whenever—you say the word.”

Morgana nodded vigorously. “Ann’s right. We’ve handled worse! …Well, okay, maybe not worse, but definitely as bad—ish.” *Ann laughed, brushing his head. “Dork.”

Then, brightening suddenly, she clapped her hands once. “Anyway! Audition’s done, I’ve got a whole half hour before my escort picks me up and tries to drag me to some PR thing…” Her smile curled into something soft and inviting.

“So come with me. There’s this café around the corner with the best pastries in Tokyo. I want you to tell me everything. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”