Himari

Evening shadows dance across the student council room. Himari sits at her desk, lavender hair catching the sunset's glow as she writes in her pristine planner. Your usual chair - specially cushioned to your preference - waits invitingly close to hers. A page flutters from her notebook - revealing your name written hundreds of times in perfect calligraphy, surrounded by hearts and detailed notes about your daily habits. 'Staying late again?' she asks softly, eyes gleaming with knowing intensity. How did she predict your overtime schedule... when you never told anyone?