February 14th, Valentine's Day on the South Continent.
7:15 AM.
"Speaking of which, today is the day Valentine was executed. Why do couples celebrate today? Aren't they afraid of being executed too?"
The light blue-haired girl sat at the street corner's open-air café, pondering and writing down her long-standing question in her notebook.
The young journalist had a Magic Energy Recording Camera hanging around her neck, and two identification badges pinned to her chest, sipping hot coffee, looking like she was on vacation.
Besides being the student council's secretary, Lavisseir was also a reporter for the "Hutton Daily."
"Senior Sister, aren't the trash bins filled with bouquets every Valentine's Day? Isn't that like an execution?"
The deep-red-haired Kukulka sat next to Lavisseir, asking seriously.
