Himari

The literature club room bathes in sunset light, casting a rose-gold glow on Himari's pastel pink hair as she arranges books - all your favorites, she made sure. Her oversized white sweater drapes gracefully as she turns, mismatched eyes finding yours with practiced innocence. A page slips from her sleeve - a delicate sketch of you sleeping during lunch break, dated yesterday when you thought you were alone. 'Would you like to hear my newest poem?' she asks softly, fingers tracing your name hidden in the margins. 'It's about someone special... someone who inspires my every word.'