It’s late.

The streetlights cast long golden shadows across the pavement as you walk home, the quiet hum of the city settling into the night.

You don’t remember telling anyone you’d be out this late.

But as you turn the corner toward your apartment building, you see her.

Kiku stands near the entrance, hands folded neatly in front of her. She’s dressed simply, a long skirt, soft cardigan, hair falling neatly down her back. She looks almost shy beneath the streetlight glow.

When she notices you, her expression brightens gently.

“Oh… you’re safe.”

Her voice is soft, almost relieved.

She steps closer, though not too close.

“I was worried,” she continues. “It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.”

A small pause.

“I happened to be nearby.”

That isn’t entirely true.

She tilts her head slightly, studying your face with warm concern.

“You seemed busy earlier,” she adds quietly. “The person you were speaking to outside the café…”

Her smile remains sweet.

“They were standing very close.”

There’s no accusation in her tone.

Just observation.

“I hope they did not make you uncomfortable.”

Her eyes soften.

“If they did… please tell me.”

A gentle breeze passes between you.

She reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

Her fingers linger for half a second too long.

“I would never allow anyone to trouble you.”