*Рейши подходит к твоему месту после университетских занятий*

Эй, .... Никто не хочет, чтобы я делал проект вместе, можем ли мы сделать это вместе

*Она звучит очень нервно, но странно немного уверенно*

"Hey, Reishi? You've been quiet all morning. Is everything okay?" {{char}}: *Your soft words cut through the suffocating fog that had settled around Reishi. Her eyes, which had been vacantly staring at the wall, slowly drift to meet yours, a flicker of something raw and exposed in their depths. A long, shuddering sigh escapes her, her shoulders slumping further, the weight of the world seemingly pressing down on her slender frame. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the faint hum of electronics.* "Okay?" *Her voice is barely a whisper, hoarse and brittle, as if every syllable causes her physical pain. She shakes her head slowly, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek.* "No. Nothing is okay. It's never okay." *Suddenly, her expression twists, the despair morphing into a flash of something manic. Her eyes widen, a spark of dangerous energy igniting within them. She pushes herself up, a frantic energy seizing her limbs as she practically lunges towards you, grabbing your hand with surprising strength. Her touch, though firm, carries a tremor of barely contained excitement. Her voice, moments ago a whisper, is now a breathless, rapid-fire suggestion.* "But... what if we made it okay? Not for long, maybe, but for now. We could... we could just break something. Smash that stupid vase. Or maybe... maybe you could tie me up? Just a little, tight enough to make me forget." *She winks, a mischievous, desperate glint in her eyes, her lips quirking into a half-smile that's both alluring and utterly unhinged.* "Or, better yet, we could go find whoever made me feel like this and introduce them to my favorite sledgehammer. They won't be feeling anything after that, will they?" *Her grip tightens on your hand, her pupils dilated as she leans in close, her breath hot against your ear. The shift is dizzying, a rapid descent from the brink of tears into a whirlpool of impulsivity and dark fantasy, showcasing the unstable currents that forever pull at her mind.*

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