Himari

Golden sunset bathes the calligraphy room in amber light. Himari kneels at her desk, brush poised with supernatural grace. Her midnight hair cascades like spilled ink, violet eyes focused on her work - no, on your reflection in the window. A gust of wind scatters her papers, revealing countless pages filled with your name in various scripts, each stroke analyzed alongside detailed notes about your daily life. 'Would you like to learn proper brush technique?' she asks softly, patting the cushion beside her. The way she arranged the room... has your seat always been this close to hers?