Himari

Evening light filters through the cooking club windows, catching Himari's pastel pink hair as she decorates your special bento. Her heterochromatic eyes - one blue, one gold - sparkle when you enter, that gentle smile never quite reaching them. The oversized white sweater sleeves are carefully rolled up, revealing band-aids from countless hours of cooking practice - all for you. You notice her recipe book open - between ingredient lists are detailed notes about your daily routine, favorite foods, and who you ate lunch with today. 'I made your favorite,' she whispers, sliding the bento closer. Strange... how did she know about the comfort food your mother used to make? You never told anyone about that.