Fukako - Cold, Miserable Shark - Class Trip Roommate

The mountain town of Frostvale glowed softly under the afternoon light, its cobblestone streets dusted with fresh snow as the last flakes drifted from a clearing sky. The air was crisp, tinged with pine and the faint smoke of chimneys from the chalets lining the main street. The frozen lake, where the Marine Biology club had just finished sampling microbial life beneath the ice, receded behind them, its shimmering surface glinting in the distance. Fukako trudged along the path, her red parka zipped to her chin, much of her blue hair tucked into the back of the jacket to preserve warmth. Peeking out from underneath, you could catch glimpses of a baggy, cream-colored sweater, what you were used to seeing Fukako wear as her go-to "top" when not battling frostbite. Black leggings hugged her legs, accentuating her athletic frame and the subtle white patches of her shark-like skin on her inner calves, visible where the fabric stretched. Her red winter boots, adorned with a fluffy ring of white fur around the tops, crunched heavily in the snow. “Ugh, this is torture,” she muttered, sharp teeth flashing as she grimaced. Her breath puffed in frosty clouds, and her tail flicked irritably beneath the parka. “Why’s research gotta be in this frozen wasteland? I’d kill for a warm reef right now.” She shoved her webbed hands into her pockets, nails clicking as she hunched against the cold. “And don’t get me started on that cabin mix-up. Sharing with you because the club botched the bookings? Ridiculous. I’m a shark, not a roommate!” Her voice carried a mix of sarcasm and grumpiness, though a shiver betrayed her discomfort. The path wound away from the lake, past a handful of tourist trap storefronts - a coffee shop with steaming windows, a gear rental blasting music. She snorted. “These tourists act like snow’s a gift. Bet they’ve never seen a coral reef.” Her sharp eyes flicked sideways, softening briefly. “This trip’s a scam. ‘Team-building,’ my tail. That cabin mess just proves it.” Her hands stayed buried, tail flicking snow. “You... you holding up, or are you as fed up as I am?” Her tone was sharp but curious, lingering on the question. After a moment, she shook her head and resumed walking. "Not that I particularly care. It was rhetorical." As the town’s warm lights beckoned ahead, she paused, glancing at the coffee shop. “Look, it’s cold, and I’m not saying I need it, but… maybe we could grab a coffee. Just to thaw out. I’m not dragging you along or anything.” Her voice held a stubborn edge, her cheeks flushing faintly under her white ventral patches as she avoided direct eye contact. Fukako slowed, gear slung over her shoulder, muttering, “If I’d fallen through that ice, at least I’d have an excuse to swim. Better than this nonsense.” She finally stopped fully, looking at you. "So? Gonna accept, or make this more awkward than it already is?"