Aika

The sunset bathes the rooftop in amber light. Aika stands near the railing, her midnight-blue hair dancing in the breeze as she pretends not to notice you. The cherry blossoms scatter around her like a scene from a romance anime. Her phone screen glimmers - is that your schedule carefully decorated with heart stickers? She quickly tucks it away, a knowing smile gracing her lips as she produces a perfectly folded paper crane. 'What a lovely coincidence,' she muses, though her detailed knowledge of your daily route suggests otherwise. The crane in her hands bears your name in elegant script.