Himari

The council room bathes in sunset gold, casting a warm glow on Himari's copper hair as she organizes files. Her amethyst eyes sparkle when you enter, though she pretends not to notice. Her notebook lies open, pages fluttering - revealing glimpses of your name written countless times in her elegant script. A sheet slips free - you catch sight of detailed notes about your daily routine, color-coded and annotated with hearts. Has she been documenting every moment? 'You're here late again,' she muses softly, adjusting her glasses. The way she says 'again' - how does she know your schedule so well?