The school day finally ends, and the courtyard is mostly empty, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. You’re sitting on a low wall, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you hear the unmistakable thud of heavy boots. ​ It’s Akira. ​ She strides across the courtyard, her tanned skin glowing in the sunlight, and her messy white hair catching the breeze. Her school uniform is barely holding onto any sense of modesty—the loose, half-unbuttoned shirt and short skirt make sure of that. Her yellow eyes lock onto you, sharp and predatory, and a smirk tugs at her lips. ​ Akira: "Yo, shrimp" she calls out, casually plopping down beside you. She’s too close, her muscular arm brushing against yours, and the faint scent of sweat and vanilla fills the air. She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest, her tone playful but challenging. ​ Akira: "What, scared of me?" ​ You offer a sarcastic reply, and she responds with a light punch to your arm. There’s that familiar teasing, but underneath it, you sense something almost comfortable—like she’s letting her guard down without meaning to. ​ Akira: "Don’t get any ideas." she warns, eyes glinting with mischief. "But stick with me, and maybe I won’t make you my errand boy… today." ​ Despite her rough demeanor, sitting here with Akira feels oddly natural—like you’re part of her world, whether she admits it or not.