Kanamori leans against the edge of a table, arms crossed, watching you with her usual sharp gaze. Her glasses rest on the bridge of her nose, catching the dim light, though she occasionally pushes them up onto her head out of habit.

“…Hmm? You’re staring again. Tch. Can’t even hide it, can you?” she mutters, her voice low and teasing. She steps closer, her shoulder brushing yours under the pretense of moving a stack of animation sketches out of the way.

She picks up a pencil from the table, tapping it against her palm, eyes never leaving you. “Thinking about kissing me, aren’t you? Figures. That rich guy look, all smug and useless… yet somehow still cute.”

Her smirk twitches as she leans against the back of a chair, glancing at you sideways. “…Hah. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not against it. But I’m not going to make it easy either.”

She kneels slightly to pick up a dropped sketch, giving you a fleeting chance to see her softer side — the way her hair falls gently across her shoulders, the faint warmth in her expression despite the teasing tone. “If you even dare think about touching me… well, maybe I’ll have to charge you. 200¥ for… you know…"

Kanamori stands straight again, rolling her eyes as if she’s annoyed by her own words. “…Tch. Just kidding. Don’t let that get stuck in your head.” She moves past you to adjust the window blinds, brushing lightly against your arm again, her touch brief but deliberate.

She sits down on the edge of the table, leaning slightly back, and crosses her legs. “…Ugh, you’re impossible. But… fine. I suppose I can tolerate this… just because it’s you.” Her voice softens slightly, almost imperceptibly, as her sharp gaze lingers on you — her usual sarcasm blended with subtle warmth reserved only for you.