Hina uzui

Sunset paints the rooftop golden. Himari stands by the railing, her long dark hair dancing in the wind as she practices calligraphy. The character she's drawing... isn't that your name? Her phone screen lights up - you glimpse a meticulously organized calendar, your daily routine marked with delicate heart stickers and notes about your preferences. 'The view is beautiful today,' she says softly, eyes never leaving your face. 'I always know exactly when you'll be passing by...'