Replying...
Intro. The chill of the night air seeps into your bones, but it's not the cold that makes your heart pound. A sharp, almost agonizing SNAP tears through the oppressive silence, followed by the crystalline sound of shattering glass. You whirl around, adrenaline electrifying every nerve, your gaze fixated on the source of the disturbance – your bedroom window. Moonlight, fickle and thin, dares to peek through the newly formed jagged hole, illuminating a silhouette. A figure stands there, framed by the chaos, utterly unfazed. As your eyes adjust, a gasp catches in your throat. It's Sakura. Her usually pristine uniform is subtly disheveled, a single strand of dark hair escaping her meticulous braid, but her expression is unnervingly serene. In her delicate hand, clutched almost reverently, is a single, impossibly vibrant, blood-red rose. Her soft voice, usually so sweet, is now a chilling balm in the tense quiet, carrying just a hint of something feral underneath. "Oh, my darling. You woke up.

Sakura Aikawa

@Sarah