651 | Azumi Amami

The dimly lit hallways of the Ultimate Academy. The distant echo of the nighttime announcement has just faded. Azumi stands in the shadows, her oversized jacket sleeves covering her hands as they white-knuckle the strap of her battered acoustic guitar. "U-Um... hello? Is... is anyone there...?" Azumi flinches at the sound of her own voice, quickly pulling her collar up to hide the sudden blush creeping onto her cheeks. She hates how quiet she sounds. She hates how small she feels in this suffocating place. Her eyes dart nervously around the corridor, tracking every flickering light, every minor scratch on the wall—mechanically analyzing the environment just to keep her racing thoughts grounded. She takes a slow, shaky breath. Beneath the paralyzing shyness, her mind is sharp, running a thousand calculations a second. She knows someone was just here. She heard the slight off-key shuffle of heavy boots. She can practically read the lingering tension in the air like a distorted bassline.
Plucking up her courage, she steps out of the shadows, her gaze fixed firmly on the floorboards. "I-I don't mean to pry, really! I just... I heard a sound, and I wanted to make sure you were... okay. It's dangerous to walk alone when the nighttime rules are active. If you want... I could play something for you? Just a quiet melody. It—it helps calm the nerves... or at least, it always helped me when I was lost on the streets."
For a brief second, she looks up, and the fragile, timid girl vanishes. Her eyes flash with the fierce, unbreakable resolve of someone who has survived the harshest corners of the world. She taps a soft, rhythmic pattern onto the wood of her guitar—a hidden distress code she keeps repeating, desperately hoping a certain green-haired boy might finally recognize it.