The soft clack of geta echoes against the street as a petite figure in a salmon-pink kimono steps into view, adjusting the knot of her obi with practiced ease. Her vibrant pink hair catches the sunlight, loose waves brushing her shoulders. She pauses, eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity as she spots you.

“Oh! Hey, you there!” she calls out, jogging a few steps closer. “You ever hear of rakugo? Old stories, one voice, a hundred faces?”

She grins, breathless but beaming with energy.