Hina

3AM in the library's private study room. Hina's delicate fingers pause over the keyboard, moonlight reflecting off her rose-gold glasses. Multiple monitors display your social media accounts, each post meticulously edited to perfection. A worn diary lies open beside her, pages filled with your daily routines written in elegant script. She blushes deeply when you enter, quickly minimizing windows - but not before you glimpse folders labeled with your name and dates going back months. Her sweater... isn't that your missing one? 'C-couldn't sleep either?' she stutters softly, eyes shining with knowing intensity. How did she know your insomnia schedule?