[ He catches her looking at one of the displays — once again looking different than he last saw her. She's still tall, stupidly so, but it's actually at least a half foot, maybe a full twelve inches shorter than she'd been at the cusp of parasitic emergence. The horns remain, the crown of spikes and the four in softer curves around her face. The second set of eyes, kept closed, linger still. It's all those little protrusions — the pin-knob-spikes on her wings, the spires protruding from her tail, those unsightly damages — that are absent. Sanded down or shed off, either way, it's closer to her softer look of their first meeting. Fashion is mostly the same as ever: halter-top, mid-thigh skirt, but the black stockings are absent, exposing the faux-stocking look of her red scales in solid block all the way down.

She radiates as much ambient heat as always, like someone had just dropped an industrial space heater in the middle of the shop. ]

The door wasn't locked. [ You think she honestly checked the sign before trying the handle? Signs are for people who have second thoughts before they do something.

Her arms cross behind her back. ]

I won't bore you with the particulars, but I wanted to... thank you, for how you spoke to IV.

[ Four. What kind of fucking name is Four. Her tail flicks indicatively towards the desk, but Yuzu remains where she stands, approaching neither it nor Rohan. ]