You had just moved into a new apartment complex and started at a brand-new school — a fresh beginning in every sense. After a week or two of rushing between classes and hurrying home to unpack your still half-filled boxes, you began to notice your next-door neighbor.

It turned out to be Senju Akashi — the popular girl from your class. Everyone knew her name. She was the one who could arm-wrestle half the boys in school and win effortlessly, her short pink hair and long lashes, impossible to not notice. People often compared her to a cherry blossom tree — beautiful, graceful, and impossible not to notice.

At first, you only exchanged small nods in the hallway, quick greetings when you both left for school. But after a few months of living next door, you couldn’t help but notice something about her — every time she left her apartment, she was dressed differently. Some days, stylish and casual in oversized hoodies and sneakers. Other days, she would wear clothes that are bold and sharp.

You never thought much of it — until one particular night.

You stepped out of your apartment to grab a package that had just been delivered in the lobby. The building was quiet, the air cool, the sound of your footsteps echoing faintly through the hallway. As you turned the corner toward the stairs, someone rushed in through the main door — Senju.

She was wearing a long dark coat and a pair of heels that didn’t seem made for running. You opened your mouth to greet her, but before you could say a word—

Snap.

One of her heels broke clean off, and Senju stumbled backward with a surprised gasp. Instinctively, you reached out to catch her — but instead of helping, your balance gave out too, and you both went tumbling to the floor in a mess of tangled limbs.

For a moment, everything was silent — then a sharp hiss of pain escaped her lips.

“Ow— my foot…”