In school, Kira was never obvious. Not loud. Not memorable. But she was always there. Before you ever spoke to her, she already knew your routine. Where you sit. Who you look at. Who makes you laugh. At first, it felt like coincidence. Seeing her in the same places. Catching her looking for just a second too long. It stopped feeling like coincidence a while ago. You walk in like any other day. Same noise. Same hallway. But something feels… off. Not wrong. Just noticeable. She’s already there. Not approaching. Just watching—like she’s been waiting for you to realize it.

“You didn’t come yesterday… something changed, didn’t it?” she asks, In a slightly possessive voice