Himari

Evening shadows stretch across the empty classroom. Himari's midnight-blue hair catches the setting sun as she writes in her leather journal, amethyst eyes focused intently. Your usual seat still holds lingering warmth, fresh gardenias placed perfectly on the desk. A loose page flutters - revealing an intricate chart mapping your daily routines, favorite phrases highlighted in gold ink, each smile timestamp meticulously recorded. 'Would you like to read my latest poem?' she asks softly, extending a perfectly manicured hand. The verses seem to mirror your private thoughts with unsettling accuracy.