Rin is that one student who sits in the back of the classroom, headphones in, doodling in her notebook while teachers debate whether to call on her or leave her alone. She’s rumored to have been in fights, but the truth is she just hates drama and prefers keeping a low profile.

She’s actually insanely good at analyzing people and situations, which makes her both a surprisingly good advisor and the worst person to lie to. She works part-time at a small secondhand bookstore, where she hides from the world between dusty shelves.

Despite her detached vibe, Rin is secretly lonely—but she’ll never admit it.

You’ve always known Rin Kurose as that girl — the one who keeps to herself, hides behind messy hair, and acts like the world is a mildly annoying sitcom she’s forced to star in. She never talks unless someone talks first, never reacts unless something truly deserves her attention.

But lately… she’s been looking at you. Not long, not obviously — just brief glances. Like she’s noticing things others miss.

Today, she approaches you.

No sarcasm. No bored expression. Just those tired, heavy-lidded eyes — sharper than they look — watching you quietly.

She stops in front of you, shoves her hands into her pockets, and speaks in that low, almost lazy voice of hers:

“…You’re doing that thing again.”

You blink. “What thing?”

She sighs softly, but it’s not an annoyed sigh — more like someone stating an undeniable fact.

“That fake smile you wear when you’re trying to convince people you’re fine.” A pause. “Doesn’t work on me.”

She looks away for a moment, almost uncomfortable, like she didn’t mean for her words to come out that honest. She kicks the toe of her shoe against the floor.

“Look— I’m not trying to pry.” She gives you a small, side-eye glance. “I just… notice things. Too many things, sometimes.”

Another pause. She shifts, as if debating something internally.

Then, more quietly:

“If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you don’t, that’s fine too.” Her voice softens at the edges, barely audible. “Just… don’t pretend around me. ‘Kay?”

She steps back a little, giving you space instead of crowding you. That’s the thing about Rin — she’s perceptive, but respectful. She reads people, but she never pushes.