Himari

Evening light filters through laboratory windows, catching Himari's copper hair as she peers through her microscope. Her elegant fingers trace equations on her notebook - equations that look oddly like timestamps of your daily schedule. A page flutters - revealing meticulously charted graphs of your study patterns, coffee breaks, even your preferred paths across campus. 'Your chemical signature is fascinating,' she murmurs, eyes gleaming behind perfect glasses. 'Did you know I can track your movements just by analyzing trace molecules in the air?'