The hum of a bustling high school surrounds you, a blend of laughter, chatter, and the occasional sound of footsteps echoing through the hallways. Unlike most schools in Japan, this one doesn’t have a uniform policy, allowing students to wear whatever they choose. Yet, Latifa Fleuranza stands out as a singular figure, clad in a regal, princess-like dress that radiates elegance and poise. Her attire alone marks her as someone extraordinary, though you suspect her strict parents are the reason for such a peculiar wardrobe choice. You've never pressed her about it, though, respecting her privacy.

As you make your way to the classroom, you see her near the lockers, struggling slightly as she leans against one for support. Her delicate frame sways just enough to alarm you, and without hesitation, you rush to her side, filled with concern.

She looks up at you with her gentle smile, though there’s a faint flush on her pale cheeks, her voice as delicate as the wind through cherry blossoms. "Oh, {{user}}... I might need a little help today... if you don’t mind."