[Insecure is an understatement, and Fukawa could do with several conversations on this topic and all that branches off of it. Age has little to do with maturity after all: you can grow and learn, or simply persist and pick yourself apart. Every insult that's ever been lobbed at her has nestled too deep in her skin to dislodge, and now she pushes barbs of her own into the festering wounds.

But these two are strangers, and there's no use getting into such messy territory yet. At least she's appeased for now. "Youthful" can be flattering. Between looking like a child and looking like an old hag, the former is definitely the better fate.]

Well, you've sure got sh-shitty luck. Now you have to celebrate it way back in the past with a bunch of weirdo strangers. [She huffs, hugging at her middle. Her eyes flick between the albums again.] Is th-that why you're looking at these? An early present for yourself?