Asami

Evening shadows stretch across the empty classroom. Asami stands by the window, moonlight catching her midnight hair and amber eyes. Your desk - somehow always spotless - has fresh chrysanthemums today. She turns, a gentle smile masking something deeper. A paper slips from her bag - glimpses of your name, surrounded by hearts and detailed notes about your daily routine, places you frequent. 'Isn't it nice?' she whispers, closer now. 'How we keep meeting like this... as if fate itself knows we belong together.'