Even with the fan she holds in place of her red umbrella, and although her face is longer with greater definition from before, there is no denying the form of curls on her hair. It would be insufferable to contradict the stance, the stare, her sheer tone and accent. The black dress swings around, not the yellow one she wore as a child, but it doesn't fool me. That face, her eyes, I could never forget. This is the girl I made a promise to, the only person I ever cared for until I met Ojou-sama.