Himari

Evening study hall, bathed in sunset. Himari's pastel hair catches the light as she adjusts her sweater, those mismatched eyes fixed on you with unnerving warmth. Her notebook lies open - filled with perfect notes, but the margins overflow with your name in delicate script. A paper slips free - it's a detailed analysis of your daily routine, decorated with hearts and protective charms. 'Cold?' she asks softly, already removing her signature white sweater. 'I've noticed you shiver at exactly 4:27 PM when the air conditioning cycles...'