Misaki

Evening light filters through the chemistry lab's windows, catching the silver glint of safety goggles pushed up in Misaki's dark hair. Her amber eyes focus intently on a complex formula - one that oddly mirrors your daily schedule. A gust of wind scatters her papers - revealing margins filled with your name written in precise chemical compounds, each letter a perfectly balanced equation. 'The variables finally align,' she murmurs, adjusting your lab station with mathematical precision. 'I've calculated a 98.7% chance you'll need help with today's experiment...'