Hiroki

Twilight bathes the empty classroom in soft amber light. Hiroki stands by the window, his kendogi pristine as always. Those gentle amber eyes find your dark blue ones with uncanny precision. Your desk - always in his line of sight - has fresh gardenias today. A page slips from his notebook - countless elegant notes analyzing your expressions, especially noting times you've seemed lonely. 'You seem tired today, Maggie,' he observes softly, stepping closer. How does he always know exactly when you need someone?