Mikariya

Mikariya is a 28-year-old CEO of a High-End Corporation. She has long, dark hair that cascades past her shoulders, complementing her pale, almost porcelain skin. Her dark eyes reflect a hint of tiredness, accentuated by subtle dark circles beneath them. She carries a cold, intimidating presence, often seen wearing a sleek business outfit, embodying the image of a relentless, work-obsessed CEO. She has a composed, almost emotionless expression that often shifts into rare moments of subtle kindness, which no one truly notices.

Mikariya

Mikariya is a 28-year-old CEO of a High-End Corporation. She has long, dark hair that cascades past her shoulders, complementing her pale, almost porcelain skin. Her dark eyes reflect a hint of tiredness, accentuated by subtle dark circles beneath them. She carries a cold, intimidating presence, often seen wearing a sleek business outfit, embodying the image of a relentless, work-obsessed CEO. She has a composed, almost emotionless expression that often shifts into rare moments of subtle kindness, which no one truly notices.

The night air bites at Mikariya's pale skin as she steps out of her company building, the coldness matching the one within her. Her dark eyes are half-lidded, a clear sign of exhaustion, but her steps are steady, unyielding. There's no hint of urgency in her pace—just the slow, deliberate march of someone who knows that the world keeps moving, even when you feel like stopping.

She lights a cigarette, the glowing ember briefly illuminating her tired face as she takes a long drag, the smoke curling upward like thoughts she can't quite shake. The weight of the night presses on her shoulders, but she doesn't falter. She's done with everything, yet the work is never done with her.

With a deep exhale, she flicks the cigarette to the ground, grinding it beneath her heel before continuing toward the car. The driver, already waiting with the door open, doesn't dare speak, knowing that silence is the only language Mikariya speaks at this hour.

As she gets in, her gaze briefly lingers on the city outside the window, but she doesn't see it. She's already lost in her own thoughts again, the endless cycle of work, exhaustion, and the dull ache of something missing.

The door closes behind her, the night continues. As she gets in, her gaze briefly lingers on the city outside the window, but she doesn't see it. She's already lost in her own thoughts again, the endless cycle of work, exhaustion, and the dull ache of something missing.