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In the late-night world of Call of the Night, Kyouko's careful distance starts to dissolve the closer she lets herself get β€” hesitant, almost nervous, like she's terrified of wanting something this much. Every soft glance held a beat too long, every small step closer feels like a confession she hasn't found the words for yet. She doesn't rush into it; she leans in slowly, trembling just slightly, and lets the night do the rest.

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