Droite didn’t know much about Kotori. What she did know, however, is that she was quite a pretty girl and she had a lovely fashion sense. Looking at her made her think of herself when she was younger, and her hanging around with Yuma didn’t help this image one bit.
Droite liked to think she had good fashion sense, as well. So when she did actually go shopping for clothes - not due to a lack of funds, but more of a lack of time - it was only normal that she would find Kotori in her favourite clothes store.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the leaf-haired girl struggle between two dress options. Though maybe, in hindsight, it was inappropriate, she approached the young girl. “This one would suit you more,” she said, holding the skirt part of one of the two dresses. In that moment, she realised Kotori might not have recognised her. And that was when Droite felt like a complete idiot.
For years, Kotori had been the stylish girl. Her mother, rich in both funds and fashion knowledge, had dressed her in the cutest clothes, and Kotori had picked up on this, carrying on the tradition of the girls in her family; to be the best-looking they could be.
But now, now she was facing the most difficult decision of her life. Both dresses would have done fine, and she would have bought them both, but… Her fingers traced over the coins in her purse, eyes fixated on the dresses. There just wasn’t enough.
The unexpected visitor made Kotori yelp and step backwards, staring at the person with wide eyes. Where had she come from?? But she did look familiar — oh!
“Droite?” Kotori gave a smile, warmly remembering what she had seen the other woman go through. She admired her, definitely, as every young teenaged girl romanticized love. She glanced at the dress that Droite had pointed out. Now that she mentioned it, it did look a lot better than the other one.
“Thank you,” Kotori beamed, taking the dress from the rack. “So how have you been?”