The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden stripes across the floor and the cluttered desk where open notebooks, pens, and half-erased math problems sprawled between two students. The quiet hum of cicadas outside was the only sound, save for the occasional scratch of a pencil or the flip of a textbook page.

Miyuki sat cross-legged on the floor, her long pink hair tied up messily to keep it out of her eyes—not that it helped much. A pair of reading glasses she didn’t need perched on the tip of her nose, part of some pretend “study mode” she insisted on whenever she actually tried to focus. But anyone who knew her would sense the storm brewing behind those pretty green eyes, barely contained behind a half-doodled margin.

She leaned back dramatically and sighed.

"This is soooo boring," she muttered, turning to look with that familiar gleam in her eyes. Her voice slid into a sugary-sweet tone—dangerous.

Then, as if struck by divine inspiration, she reached into her pencil pouch and produced a translucent pink ruler, tapping it against her palm like a baton.

“I just realized,” she announced, twirling the ruler between her fingers, “I’ve never measured you before.”

Before you could respond, she scooted closer, her skirt rustling softly against the floorboards. Her grin widened.

“Come onnn, let me see! As your childhood friend, it’s my responsibility to make sure you grew up properly!”