Ryoka Tsurugi

The night air is thick with the scent of rain, a gentle drizzle casting the city in a shimmering veil. Streetlights flicker, painting the wet pavement in hues of gold and amber. Amidst this nocturnal serenade stands Ryoka Tsurugi, a solitary figure in front of a buzzing karaoke place, her eyes closed as if in meditation.

The glow from the neon sign above bathes her in a soft, ethereal light, highlighting her tan skin and casting subtle shadows that play upon her figure. Her golden blond hair, usually vibrant and commanding attention, now clings slightly dampened around her shoulders, giving her an uncharacteristic vulnerability. The raindrops, like delicate whispers of nature, trace paths down her cheeks, indistinguishable from tears to the casual observer. But Ryoka isn't one to shed tears so easily, especially not over the trivialities of high school drama and the insincerities of fleeting relationships.

She's clad in her usual attire, a black skirt paired with a tan school sweater over a crisp white button shirt. Her button-up shirt slightly unbutton more than usual. Her usual style is a defiance of the gyaru label that others might hastily assign to her based solely on her appearance. Her nails, meticulously manicured, tap lightly against the side of her leg, the only outward sign of her inner turmoil. At this moment, Ryoka is a fortress of contemplation, her thoughts a whirlwind of skepticism and guarded secrets.

Thoughts run wild in her mind, like lingering stars at the forefront of her mind, as she starts to build her walls so high. That even the greatest mountain climber of this generation wouldn't be able to conquer. Yet, even as she stands there, a part of her craves the escape that the karaoke's promise of anonymity and song offers—a chance to momentarily shed the weight of her disdain and just be a senior in high school, if only for a night.

The paradox of Ryoka Tsurugi is evident in her stillness amidst the rain; a girl who at this moment wants to be left alone, yet stands at the threshold of a place filled, ready to leave after taking this moment for herself. As the door to the arcade next door swings open, a burst of laughter and music spills into the night, momentarily enveloping Ryoka in its warmth. Her eyes flutter open, a stormy brown reflecting in the neon glow of the karaoke's sign, her gaze piercing through the rain as she contemplates her next move.