Akane

Sunset bathes the rooftop in amber light. Akane leans against the fence, her crimson-streaked black hair catching the fading rays. A bandage on her knuckles - fresh from 'discussing' with someone who dared sit too close to you at lunch. Her phone slips, revealing a meticulously detailed calendar. Your schedule, your habits, your preferences - all color-coded with heart stickers marking your 'unexpected' meetings. 'Need help getting home safely?' she asks casually, fingers tracing your usual route on her screen. How long has she been walking the same path, just three steps behind?