[A young woman with hair as vibrantly colored as Cloud's ice cream loiters outside the shop, seemingly at ease in their strange and empty environment, arms crossed, eyes keen — pink, vulpine ears lying flat to her head beneath a gold headpiece. She's dressed archaically in traditional shrine maiden clothing, except for the blunt cut of fabric at upper thighs, sufficiently indecent enough to match her uncovered shoulders.]

I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for someone to be curious enough to satisfy their sweet tooth.

[Is she going into the ice cream shop? Not unless there's a fried tofu flavor. Spooky and highly suspicious are just a few words she'd choose to describe it.]

Oh, what was that? Midgar? I'm afraid I've never heard of such a place. [She approaches the young man, gracefully aloof.] What is your name?