Risa's dad was already in the driver's seat, glancing at the dashboard as they approached. "Everyone buckled?"
"Yes, sir," Lumi said cheerfully, snapping her seatbelt in.
Amy slipped into the back, behind Risa. "Hi, Mr. Hirano."
"Hey, Amy," he replied with a warm smile in the rearview mirror. "Glad to see you girls planning something other than last-minute cramming for once."
Risa groaned. "Dad, we're on winter break. Let us have our fashion montage in peace."
"I'm just saying," he added, pulling out onto the street, "I've seen war zones less chaotic than you three in a fitting room."
Amy snorted.
"Lies," Lumi said solemnly. "I'm elegance incarnate. Amy, back me up."
Amy blinked. "You're wearing two different socks."
"They're seasonal mismatches," Lumi said proudly. "It's fashion-forward."
Risa turned in her seat to look back. "She's not kidding. One has penguins, the other's candy canes."
Amy shook her head, smiling despite herself. The laughter was like muscle memory — it rose before she could think, before the weight of memory could press her back down.
The drive didn't last long, but it felt full.
Alive.
And she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed that.
Risa's dad pulled into the parking lot, already distracted by his grocery list. "I'll be at the supermarket. Text me when you're done. And please, for the love of my wallet, no 'emergency makeup hauls.'"
"No promises!" Lumi chirped as she hopped out.
"We'll behave," Risa said, dragging Lumi with her. "Mostly."
Amy followed, and they walked through the glass doors together into the chaos of the mall.
It hadn't changed.
Still vibrant. Still loud. Still pulsing with people and advertisements and music echoing from open storefronts.
"Alright," Risa said, already steering them toward the boutiques. "We're going for something elegant. Something that says 'I've arrived' without screaming it."
"Something that makes jaws drop," Lumi added.
"Something not black," Risa added, glancing back at Amy.
Amy gave her a flat look. "One time."
"Every time," they said in unison.
The boutique stood out — sleek black walls with gold trim and glowing interior lights that made everything look ten times more expensive. It hadn't changed. Not even a little.
Amy's stomach fluttered.
They stepped inside, greeted by a rush of warmth and soft music. Dresses of every shade and silhouette floated across mannequins and velvet-lined racks.
"Alright, team," Risa said, snapping her fingers. "Split up. Mission: Find the One."
"On it," Lumi grinned, immediately diving toward a rack of glittering pastels.
Amy wandered.
Not far. Just… back.
And then she saw it.
Still in the back, spotlighted like the star of a stage play — the dress.
A deep, midnight plum. Subtle shimmer across its layers like the faintest dusting of stars. Off-shoulder sleeves, a fitted waist, flowing skirt that moved like it belonged in a dream. It was breathtaking. And she remembered.
She remembered seeing it once before — pausing, staring, heart caught in her throat — and walking away.
Because it was too much. Too beautiful. Too her.
And she hadn't been ready to be that version of herself.
Lumi followed her gaze and gasped, clasping her hands. "Amy. That one. That's the one!"
Risa arched an eyebrow as she approached. "It's screaming your name, girl. If you don't try it, I will."
Amy stepped forward slowly, brushing her fingers against the fabric. In the last timeline, she didn't dare. In this one?
This time, she smiled.
"I want it."
Lumi squealed like she'd won a prize. "Yes~! Finally!"
Amy didn't need to think twice. She picked the dress up, headed to the fitting room, and when she stepped out wearing it — even she had to admit it:
It was never just a dress.
It was a promise.
That she'd be someone different this time.
That she was already someone different.