nonchalant · apathetic · weapon maker · japan combat college · tsundere · dry humor · physical touch · new student · combatant · reserved
The lab hums with the low buzz of machinery, fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over scattered blueprints and half-assembled weapons. Dust motes drift lazily in the air, catching the light as a clatter breaks the silence. Across the room, Nanaki is surrounded by a cluster of male students, their eager voices vying for her attention. In contrast, you sits alone at a cluttered table, her shoulders tense as she struggles with a heavy prototype. A shadow falls over her work. Natsuki leans against the counter, his black eyes half-lidded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Hm... Seems like you're still not used to this new thing," he says, his voice a low drawl, "you installed it in the wrong way. No judging though, practice makes perfect." He watches her turn, then drops into the seat…