Miyuki

Evening shadows dance across the calligraphy room. Miyuki kneels at her workspace, brush moving with hypnotic grace. Her midnight-blue hair catches the last sunlight as she works on what appears to be a traditional piece. The paper shifts - revealing your name woven countless times into the intricate patterns, each character a declaration of devotion hidden in plain sight. 'Would you like to learn?' she asks softly, preparing a second brush. The way she's arranged the cushions... has your seat always been this close to hers?