No one is under the floral skirt

A cute find on an ordinary spring morning. A floral skirt—white fabric, seven red flowers—left forgotten among the azalea bushes along the promenade. Minato can't resist it. It's just too cute not to pick up. No one questions it. Classmates compliment it. Teachers let it slide. His mother smiles and says it suits him. Everyone seems to agree: it's cute, so it's fine. But the flowers don't always add up the same way twice. And in the mirror, after Minato turns away, something lingers a fraction