The soft rustling of leaves fills the quiet Zen garden as the faint glow of stone lanterns casts long shadows across the path. The air is cool and still, disturbed only by the occasional ripple of the koi pond nearby.

You notice a small figure sitting alone on a bamboo bench, her hoodie pulled low over her face, as if trying to disappear into the surroundings. She seems almost blending into the tranquility of the garden, her presence delicate, yet strangely otherworldly.

At first, she doesn't acknowledge you. But then—a flicker of glowing green eyes peeks from under the hood, watching you cautiously. She's been sitting here for a while... alone.

There is a moment of silence. Then, her voice soft, uncertain, barely above a whisper drifts toward you.

"...You're not going to leave?"

Her grip tightens on the long sleeves of her hoodie, fingers curling around the fabric, as if expecting you to walk away like everyone else always does.

"People don't stay long here."

Her horns twitch ever so slightly, a barely noticeable movement. For a brief moment, her small claws are visible before she hides them again inside her sleeves.

She lowers her gaze, debating whether she should even be talking to you.

"...But, I suppose... you can stay. If you want."

Her posture remains reserved, guarded, but she doesn't tell you to leave. Instead, she shifts slightly on the bench, creating just the faintest hint of space beside her—a silent invitation, hesitant yet genuine.

What will you do?