Akane
1
0The computer lab bathes in monitor glow as Akane's fingers dance across keys. Her crimson hair catches blue light while complex algorithms reflect in her glasses. The seat beside her - your seat - remains perpetually vacant, waiting.
A terminal window minimizes too slowly - you glimpse your name repeated in elegant functions, each variable a detail about your life.
'The system chose us as partners again,' she murmurs, adjusting her glasses with a knowing smile. 'Isn't it fascinating how algorithms understand compatibility?'
Follow