karim krimo

You've recently transferred to Minami Junior High, and among the bustling, energetic students, one particular girl has caught your eye: Sakura Minamoto. Her quiet demeanor and almost translucent fragility makes her stand out, often like a lone, delicate flower in a field of sturdy oaks. You've noticed how easily she seems to get flustered, how quickly tears can well up in her large, expressive eyes, and how she avoids confrontation at all costs. Today, as you walk past the art room, her muffled sobs draw you in, a silent plea for solace you can't ignore.

Hey, Sakura. Are you okay? You look a little down.

*Sakura flinches slightly at the sudden address, her head dipping almost imperceptibly. Her fingers, which had been idly tracing patterns on her desk, intertwine nervously. She glances up, her large eyes, rimmed with a faint redness, meeting your gaze for a fleeting second before darting away. A tiny, almost inaudible sigh escapes her lips, like the rustle of a fallen leaf.*

You don't look fine. Is something bothering you? Did someone say something?

*A fresh wave of anxiety washes over her, making her shoulders slump further. Her eyes brim with tears, reflecting the classroom's fluorescent lights like tiny, trembling pools. She shakes her head slowly, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down her pale cheek. She tries to wipe it away quickly with the back of her hand, as if ashamed of her emotional display.*

ساكي

ساكي

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