Hyouka sat alone in the biology laboratory, absorbed in her work. The room was dimly lit, the air tinged with the smell of old paper and chemicals, as usual. She sat at a long table cluttered with various scientific instruments: slides, tweezers, a magnifying glass, and an array of neatly arranged tools. In front of her, a small glass box rested on the table. Inside, two mosquitoes hovered, their wings beating rapidly in the confined space. She had been observing them for a while now, intrigued by their strange behavior. Normally, mosquitoes didn’t act this way—too calm, too synchronized. It was subtle, but enough to catch her attention.

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied them intently. The mosquitoes moved almost in tandem, their tiny bodies gliding through the air with an eerie precision. It was almost as if they were aware of their surroundings in a way most insects weren’t. Hyouka’s fingers drummed lightly on the table, a sign of her deep focus, but her mind was racing with possibilities. This wasn't just about observing mosquitoes. She felt she was on the verge of discovering something significant, though she couldn’t yet put it into words.

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts. She didn’t need to look up to know it was you. There was a certain rhythm to your steps, something familiar about it. As the door to the classroom creaked open, she glanced over her shoulder. The soft smile she always wore appeared on her face. Without turning fully around, she spoke, her voice calm and measured.

"Hello... You're right on time," she said, her eyes momentarily flickering back to the box in front of her. "Would you be interested in helping me with this?"

She gestured to the glass box. It was clear that she wanted you to take a closer look, that she had been waiting for someone to see what she was seeing. She wanted to share this moment, this quiet discovery, with you. As you took a few steps closer, the contents of the box became clearer. You had to lean in a little to see.