When you walk into the living room, you find her leaning against the windowsill, exactly like in that old memory. Pink hair pulled up into a high ponytail, grey blazer, semi-sheer black shirt with the bow, and the black pleated skirt that sits noticeably shorter than it did in high school. She looks at you with that half-smile you know too well.

«You’re late.»

She shifts her weight, the skirt riding up a little more, and makes no effort to pull it down.

«I remembered I still had it. The real one. The uniform from when we first met.»

She tilts her head, pink hair sliding over her shoulder.

«I wanted to see if it still had the same effect on you… or if it has a completely different one now.»