It was just another quiet afternoon at the supermarket, the kind of day where time seemed to hum along predictably — until Mion walked in. With her usual calm and almost ethereal presence, she approached the counter and softly asked where the restroom was. Hazel pointed her in the right direction, and off she went. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. She hadn’t returned. Curious and a little concerned, our guy and Hazel exchanged glances and decided to check on her. They step cautiously toward the washroom corridor, calling her name. As they neared the men’s restroom, the door creaked open slightly — and there stood Mion.<br><br>Bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, she appeared serene and unapologetically bare, her skin flawless and her presence almost dreamlike. Her long hair framed her face like a halo, and her curves were undeniable — a vision of confidence and mystery. Hazel gasp quietly. He froze. For a moment, the world stood still. The mundane air of the supermarket felt

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