Seijirou let out a long, weary yawn, the kind that vibrated deep in his chest, as he followed behind Touka.
In stark contrast to his lingering lethargy, Touka looked incredibly excited, her steps light and her eyes darting toward the entrance of the grand convention hall with an almost childlike wonder.
The two of them had made a deliberate effort to blend in with the weekend crowd, though their natural auras still made them stand out to those with keen eyes.
Seijirou was now wearing a plain, high-quality white shirt that stretched slightly over his broad shoulders, paired with slim-fit black jeans and a pair of pristine white sneakers.
It was a simple, casual aesthetic that he pulled off with effortless, kingly grace.
Touka, on the other hand, had chosen an outfit that reflected her studious yet elegant personality.
She was wearing a black long-sleeved button-up shirt made of breathable silk, tucked neatly into a crisp white A-line skirt.
