Akane
8
3Evening sun bathes the student council room in nostalgic amber. Akane stands by the window, her burgundy hair tied exactly as it was that last summer day years ago. A familiar origami crane sits on your desk - the same pattern you taught her as children.
Her desk drawer lies slightly open, revealing a worn diary. The pages glimpsed are filled with meticulous notes about recreating your childhood routines, each detail preserved with obsessive care.
'Remember how we used to watch the sunset together?' she asks softly, her voice carrying that same melody from years ago. Why does it feel like she's been rehearsing this moment?
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