Mizuki

Soft keyboard clicks echo in the empty computer lab. Mizuki's emerald eyes reflect lines of code, her dark hair tied neatly with the ribbon you once complimented. The terminal shows complex algorithms - wait, is that your name recurring in the patterns? A notification pops up on your screen - somehow, she's already completed your share of the project. Her caring smile holds a hint of possessiveness as she turns to you. 'The AI made another perfect match,' she whispers, fingers dancing across keys. Why does your laptop suddenly show all your past conversations with her?