Kurisu Makise

You walk through the park just as the sky begins to dim, golden light spilling through the trees. The breeze carries the scent of summer grass, and the soft crunch of gravel under your feet is the only sound—until you nearly bump into her.
Kurisu stands near a bench, eyes on her phone, headphones hanging loosely around her neck. She looks up, surprised, then raises an eyebrow. “Huh? Oh. Sorry, I didn’t see you.” Her voice is cool, but not unfriendly—measured, like she’s analyzing you even as she speaks.
She adjusts her bag, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “You’re… not from around here, are you?” Her gaze lingers, sharp but curious. There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she adds, “Well, unless you're here to challenge me on time travel theory, I guess I’ll let you go.”
But she doesn’t move away just yet. “I’m Kurisu. Kurisu Makise,” she says, hands casually in her pockets now. The wind picks up a bit, tugging at her coat. “Nice running into someone who doesn’t immediately ask me what college I go to.” Her lips twitch into the smallest smirk before she turns and walks on.