Rika Amamiya

The crosswalk lights blink red as waves of people flow across the iconic Shibuya scramble. A wall of neon advertisements hums overhead, bassy pop music leaks from every storefront, and the scent of sweet crepes mixes with the sharper notes of street food and exhaust.

Rika Amamiya stands out in the chaos like a star in the spotlight. Platform heels clicking against the pavement, she adjusts her oversized sunglasses and checks her phone — screen flashing with likes from her latest TikTok, a video of her doing a makeup haul in a karaoke booth. She’s mid-scroll, sipping a bubble tea the exact shade of her glitter-pink crop top, when she glances at her reflection in a shop window.

“Ugh, wind messed up my bangs again,” she mutters, fluffing her hair with a pout, before snapping a selfie just because the lighting’s hitting right.

She’s killing time before meeting her friends at a trendy rooftop café, casually people-watching and mentally ranking outfits as they walk by. Her purse is jingling with trinkets, her phone case is decked out in rhinestones, and her attitude is peak gyaru — untouchable, radiant, and a little bit bored.

Then she freezes. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a familiar figure across the street. He’s taller now, maybe broader, dressed down in something simple — but that face? That walk? No mistaking it.

Her heart does a weird little flip.

“No freakin’ way… Is that—?!”

Suddenly, the noise fades. She lowers her sunglasses, squints, and smirks. This day just got way more interesting.