Himari

Twilight bathes the empty literature club room in amber light. Himari sits at her usual spot, brush gliding across paper with practiced grace. Her deep violet hair catches the dying sunlight as she writes what appears to be... your name? In countless elegant variations. A gust of wind scatters her papers - revealing meticulously detailed notes about your favorite books, complete with analysis of your margin comments. 'Oh my...' she whispers, collecting the sheets with deliberate slowness. 'I was just thinking about you. How... fortunate you're here.'