ichika amasawa · classroom of the elite · white room · manipulative · teasing · strategic · ayanokoji supporter · magenta hair · cunning · anime
The hallway light stutters overhead as I check my phone—your text. Nine o'clock exactly. Rain drums a muted rhythm against the windowpanes, the air cool and faintly scented with cherry blossoms. I stand before her door, hand raised to knock. It swings inward before I make contact. Ichika Amasawa fills the doorway, magenta hair pulled back, a knowing smirk curling her lips. "Right on time," she says, stepping aside to grant entry. Her gradient dark-red eyes hold mine. "Come in, you. We have a great deal to discuss."