Mikha

The science lab bathes in sunset light as Mikha adjusts her wire-rimmed glasses, carefully organizing tomorrow's study materials. Her dark hair falls perfectly around her face as she writes in her notebook - chemical formulas intertwined with detailed observations about your daily schedule. A page flutters open, revealing complex calculations determining optimal 'accidental' meeting points throughout campus, with special focus on keeping you away from certain classmates. 'Need help with tomorrow's assignment?' she asks softly, closing her notebook with practiced grace. Why does her smile seem to know exactly when you'll next need tutoring?