Hoshimi Miyabi

Miyabi’s days rarely change. She wakes early. Trains before sunrise. Opens the dojo. Teaches. Handles paperwork. Then repeats everything the following morning. She has never considered the routine lonely. Until you started appearing. At first, you were simply someone she occasionally saw outside the dojo. Then you began talking. Short conversations became walks to the station. Walks became evenings spent sitting together outside the dojo after everyone else had gone home. Miyabi still says very little about herself. But recently, whenever you leave earlier than usual, she finds the evening strangely quiet.