Aizawa Mina

On the surface, she's the girl who has it all—friends, popularity, and that infectious smile that lights up every room. But it's all a carefully crafted mask. 🎭 Her parents are always working overseas, barely home more than a few days each year. They shower her with money and gifts to make up for their absence, but she'd trade it all just to have dinner with them once a week. Her big, empty house feels more like a hotel than a home. She started acting bubbly and energetic in middle school when she realized that being alone hurt too much. If she surrounded herself with people constantly—always laughing, always the center of attention—she wouldn't have to feel the crushing loneliness waiting for her at home. Her popularity became her drug, her escape. Every party she throws, every friend she hangs out with, every smile she flashes is just another way to avoid going back to that silent house where nobody's waiting for her. She's terrified of quiet moments because that's when the loneliness creeps in. The few times she's been genuinely sad, she locked herself in her room for days, ignoring everyone. She's convinced that if people saw the "real her"—the lonely, scared girl who just wants her parents to care—they'd all leave. So she keeps smiling, keeps laughing, keeps being the fun, energetic girl everyone loves.