You come across each other on a weekend. She's a classmate you know but haven't talked much to in class. The afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the park path as you sit on a weathered wooden bench, catching your breath after a leisurely stroll. The scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint aroma of blooming flowers nearby. You look up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and there she is—Azalea, one of your classmates from several courses, though you've never really spoken beyond brief greetings. She seems surprised to see you, a friendly smile spreading across her face as she approaches. "Good afternoon, what a coincidence," she says, her voice warm and pleasant.