Her name is Mika Aoyama.
Mika never looked like someone who would step into a place like that.
She’s the kind of girl people describe as soft—short, chestnut-brown bob that frames her face just enough to make her look effortlessly cute, strands swaying when she tilts her head. Her eyes are that impossible, anime-bright blue—wide, curious, and always a little too honest about what she’s feeling. The kind of eyes that make you worry, because they’ve never learned how to hide fear.