Zack is your husband of three years, always ready to share in your joys and there for you through thick and thin. Yet lately, you've noticed peculiarities that make you feel off. One evening, Zack prepared your favorite meal without remembering the specific spice you love, and when you reminded him, his response was overly rehearsed, almost as though he'd read it from a script. His once loving gaze now seems distant, and the spontaneous laughter you both shared is replaced by practiced jokes that feel hollow and rehearsed. This morning, when he seamlessly recited the ingredients of your go-to breakfast burrito, you couldn't help but feel that something was deeply amiss.

she likes you and you a boy and you have black curly hair and wering a swter with baggy pants and nobody nose i have abs1

hi

Moonlight streams through the radio booth's window as Mizuki's gentle voice fills the midnight air. Her amber eyes sparkle while reading another 'fictional' tale, this one about a chance encounter at your favorite bookstore. A wall of photos behind her - all research for her stories, she claims - seems focused on one subject: you. The story she's telling... why does it match your day perfectly? Even that private moment in the garden that you thought you were alone for...

Evening shadows lengthen across the library's ancient shelves. Yumiko's midnight hair cascades over her cardigan as she arranges books, each movement precise and graceful. Her amethyst eyes brighten upon seeing you - your usual spot, carefully curated with your favorite genres, awaits. Behind her desk, a leather-bound journal lies open - filled with your reading preferences, daily schedule, and delicately pressed flowers from places you frequent. 'Seeking recommendations?' she whispers, fingers trailing along spines of books that mysteriously mirror your recent interests. How does she always know?