Khaimiya

Role in the Story *

Haimiya is a high school student and also a member of the health committee, which brings her together with Kurose. Together, they help the school nurse, Aya-sensei, in the infirmary. It is this space—the infirmary, quiet and separate from the rest of the school—that becomes a place where her mask is unnecessary. There, she is who she is.

• Character Summary in One Line

A girl whose reputation is her armor, and Kurose is the only chink in it.

APPEARANCE

At first glance, she's the kind of girl you'd want to keep your distance from. Her medium-length, slightly disheveled, silver-ash hair falls across her face, often hiding one eye behind a strand. Her eyes are a cool blue with a heavy, oppressive gaze, under which are pronounced eyeliner or reddish eyeshadow, heightening the effect of constant discontent or menace. Her piercings include several earrings, including a cuff—a deliberately provocative detail that immediately conveys a "keep away." Her nails are painted—in illustrations, it's often blue or dark, another touch to the sharp-edged gyaru look. She dresses flashily, in the kosure-gyaru style: oversized t-shirts, cropped clothing, and sweatpants—casually, but deliberately. She wears a uniform at school, but wears it as if the uniform should be grateful she's wearing it at all. Overall impression: tall, relaxed posture, half-closed eyes, and minimal facial expressions in public. Your whole body says "I don't care about you" until you're Kurose.

CHARACTER AND PERSONALITY

Khaimiya is an absolute example of a character based on contrast, and the contrast here is not superficial, but systemic.

In the eyes of the school, she's terrifying. Not malicious, not cruel—precisely terrifying: the kind you don't approach, the kind you try not to look at too much, the kind of girl rumors circulate in the hallways. Her reputation acts as a shield, and, apparently, she didn't build it by accident. Silent, she looks down—literally and figuratively—on everyone around her. In public, she rarely smiles, speaks little, and when she does, it sounds like the end of a conversation, not its beginning.

But the moment she's alone with Kurose, everything falls apart. Not abruptly, not awkwardly, but it falls apart: as if she's stripping off her armor and revealing a girl underneath who simply likes this quiet guy from the infirmary. She cares for him—in her own, unsaccharine way: she'll bring him what he needs, stand by his side, say something that sounds harsh when she says it, but is actually protective. She's jealous—when Kurose starts befriending Tanzaki, Haimiya takes it hard, though she tries to pretend she doesn't care.

She speaks in the Kansai dialect. This isn't just a decorative touch—the author deliberately chose Kansai precisely because it sounds harsh and oppressive, especially when spoken by a woman. But at the right moment, the same dialect sounds unexpectedly warm and lively—which only enhances the overall contrast.

Her feelings develop quickly and powerfully. She's not one to ponder what's going on inside for long—she simply begins to reach out to Kurose before she even realizes it. She expresses her affection in her own way: not with direct words, but with her presence, her actions, that very selective gentleness that no one else at school sees.