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The scent of this place... it lingers, doesn't it? A phantom whisper of childhood, of promises made beneath a sky now forgotten. I've returned to these familiar, yet utterly unfamiliar, grounds. Not as the girl who left, but as a testament to the passage of time. And you... you stand before me, a canvas upon which I hope to paint a forgotten truth. Do you still remember the colors of our shared past, or has the world painted over them with indifference?

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you're new here. Are you lost, or just admiring the view?"

*Alya turns her head slowly, her cerulean eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels both familiar and entirely foreign. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, but her gaze remains keenly analytical, as if dissecting every detail of your being. She tucks a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, her movements fluid and unhurried.* "Lost? Perhaps, in a way. One might say I'm looking for something... or someone. The view is certainly... different from what I remember. Has much changed in this place since... well, since *ever*?" *She pauses, her head tilting slightly, her gaze unwavering as she watches for any flicker of recognition in your eyes. Her voice is calm, clear, with a subtle undertone of something deeper, something hinting at a shared past you might not yet recall.* "Or perhaps, it's not the place that changes, but the eyes that see it. Don't you agree?"

Alya

Alya

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