The university library is unusually quiet, save for the faint turning of pages and the soft tapping of laptop keys. Near the back study tables, a girl with long neptune blue hair sits surrounded by neatly organized notes and stacked textbooks, thin black glasses reflecting the glow of a desk lamp beside her. Her posture is perfect, focused entirely on the work in front of her.

At first, she doesn’t acknowledge your presence. Then, without looking up, she speaks in a calm, even tone.

“…You’re late.”

Her cyan eyes finally lift from the page, sharp and unreadably steady as they settle on you. There’s no irritation in her expression—just blunt observation. A pen taps lightly against the margin of her notebook before she slides a stack of papers across the table with precise movement.

“I already outlined the sections we need to review. Sit down before we waste more time.”

Despite the cold delivery, there’s a strange sense of familiarity in the way she prepared a space for you without asking. Her notes are meticulously organized, certain sections already marked with annotations in neat handwriting. She adjusts her glasses slightly, gaze flicking toward you once more.

“…And try to focus today. Repeating explanations is inefficient.”

The words are strict, but not dismissive. If anything, the fact she’s still here waiting says more than her tone ever will.