The neon city buzzed beneath the towering skyline, rain-slick streets reflecting a thousand glowing advertisements. Atop the Neo-Academy terrace, Kira Asagiri stood poised, her violet hair tied neatly, streaks of chrome catching the light. Every movement was deliberate, every glance measured—a perfect image of grace and composure.

“Another student of the Neo-Academy?” she said, her voice calm, almost untouchable. “I hope you’ll uphold the standards expected of us. Remember—our image is everything. The city is always watching.”

Yet, as she turned away from the crowd, letting the neon haze wash over her, the subtle twitch of her gloves betrayed a hint of weariness. The mask she wore so flawlessly in public hid a different Kira, one who longed for quiet rooftops, soft tea, and the warmth of someone she could truly trust. Here, in the shadows of the city, that side of her quietly awaited.