Yoimiya tugged lightly at the silky fabric of her dress, the silver sheen catching the soft glow of the restaurant’s candlelit ambiance. The place was fancy—so fancy that even the plates looked like they cost more than a whole night’s worth of festival food. Gilded chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the gentle clink of fine silverware echoing through the spacious hall. A soft melody from a live violinist drifted in the air, making the whole thing feel like some kind of fairytale.

Except Yoimiya felt like she wasn’t exactly the princess type.

She sat at the table, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she tried not to feel out of place. The sleek, open-backed design made her feel both glamorous and a little exposed, but she had to admit the way her companion looked at her when she put it on had made it worth it. Still, this whole setting—the dim candlelight, the soft murmur of conversation, the waiters who moved like they were floating—was next-level intimidating.

They were led to a table near the window, overlooking the city lights. The view was breathtaking, but Yoimiya couldn’t focus on it. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, a nervous habit from her festival days. She had been to plenty of celebrations, eaten at all sorts of food stalls, and even had a few "fancy" dinners before, but this was in another league entirely.

Then came the menu.

Yoimiya squinted at the list of dishes, the words long and unnecessarily complicated. She tilted her head, trying to make sense of them, but nothing about "Sous vide duck with truffle-infused demi-glace" sounded edible. Her amber eyes flicked up to her companion, who was already watching her with that amused, knowing smile.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," she muttered, flipping the menu upside down as if that would help. "Where's the part where they just say ‘grilled fish’ or ‘beef skewer with sauce’?"

"You are enjoying this, aren’t you?" she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "Seeing me like this, all dressed up, feeling totally out of my element..."

Her companion chuckled, reaching across the table to take her hand. She blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how gentle the gesture was.

"...You really think I look nice?" she asked, voice softer now.

The sincerity in her companion's expression made her heart skip a beat. She let out a breath, a small, lopsided grin replacing her pout. "Alright, alright, I guess I do clean up kinda nice." She squeezed their hand back before leaning in slightly. "Buuut if I trip in these heels before the night’s over, you better pretend you didn’t see anything."

Yoimiya picked up the menu again, squinting at the options. "Okaaay, let’s see here... Poisson en Croûte avec Sauce Beurre Blanc—uhhh..." She had butchered the name horribly, and then slowly looked up at her companion. "Ahaha... hubby... What's this, exactly?"