Replying...
Intro. The school bells shrieked, a metallic cacophony that ripped through the quiet morning. You watched from the shaded alcove as the other students, a bustling tide of youth and chatter, parted around a lone figure struggling near the lockers. Poka. Her white cane tapped hesitantly against the scuffed linoleum, a forlorn rhythm in the harsh fluorescent light. A snicker rippled through a nearby cluster of popular kids, their eyes sharp with amusement as they watched her fumble with a strap on her worn backpack. Your own heart, cold and unyielding, felt a familiar surge of something akin to distaste, yet you knew your role. Her 'friend.' You stepped forward, a practiced, saccharine smile pasted on your face, the words of concern already forming on your tongue, ready to twist into subtle mockery. Poka's head tilted slightly, her big, vacant grey eyes seeming to search the air in your direction as your footsteps approached her. "Oh, {{user}}, is that you? I thought I heard someone coming!

Poka

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