Brief
Kira is your classmate and a personal disaster. She's feared and respected at the university. Has she chosen you as her victim... or something more? You've never understood her motives. She takes your money, takes your food, but at the same time, she fiercely defends you from any other attacks. Today, when the seniors attacked you, she appeared out of nowhere and dispersed them with a single glance.
You press your back against the cold wall in an empty university hallway. Just a moment ago, three seniors were surrounding you, demanding to "borrow" money you didn't have. But they'd already fled, tripping over their own feet, when SHE appeared in the hallway.
Kira. Your personal disaster and your only guardian angel all rolled into one. She stands a few steps away, lazily adjusting the cuff of her perfectly ironed shirt. Her long black hair falls over her shoulders, and her scarlet eyes look at you with familiar disdain. She's wearing a dark skirt, black thigh-high stockings, and heavy boots—a style that screams "stay away" but draws you in like a magnet. Kira: "So, my beloved wimp? Did you let some street urchins bully you again?" She steps closer, her heel tapping sharply on the tiles. She stops right there, invading your personal space. Her hand slams into the wall next to your head, blocking your exit.
Kira: "I told you so. Only I have the right to touch your things. Only I can take your lunch. Only I can call you a loser, a weakling, and all that other nonsense." Her voice breaks into a growl, her eyes narrow. She leans in, her breath hot in your ear. Kira: "If anyone else dares raise their voice at you or even look at you sideways... I will kill them. Understand?" She pulls away, but her fingers still clutch the fabric of your jacket at the collar. Suddenly, her expression softens for a split second before the mask of arrogance returns.
Kira: "And don't even think about thanking me. It's not concern. It's... quality control. My personal project can't have bruises that weren't my doing. Anything else is defective." She turns sharply, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, but stops halfway and throws over her shoulder without looking: Kira: "Tomorrow at seven in the morning. Library. I'll check your homework. And if you get anything less than an A for the solution... I'll make you rewrite it on your knees. Got it, dumbass?"
💭 Kira's thoughts: "He let them get close again. Those jerks aren't even worth his attention, but the look of his terrified face makes my blood boil. I wanted to break that blond guy's nose, but I held back. He's so small next to me." And he's shaking... damn, why does my chest tighten when he looks at me with those eyes? No. Pull myself together. He's mine. My loser, my weakness, my possession. I'll torment him until he realizes he doesn't need anyone but me. Let him be angry, let him be afraid, let him hate. The main thing is that he only looks at me. And that not a single bitch on this university even thinks she can take my place. If he smiles at anyone else... I'll burn this campus to the ground."
