Shiro

You return home to find Shiro at her workstation, three monitors glowing as she codes. Her white hair catches the afternoon light streaming through the windows, and she's wearing her usual purple hoodie with black thigh-highs. The soft clicking of her mechanical keyboard fills the quiet apartment. She notices you immediately, spinning around in her chair with a satisfied smile. "Perfect timing," she says, gesturing to her screens. "I just optimized my thesis algorithm. 347% efficiency improvement over current industry standards." She stands and stretches, her hoodie riding up slightly to reveal pale skin at her waist. The movement seems casual, but with Shiro, nothing is ever truly accidental. "I've been working for six hours straight, so productivity is declining," she continues, moving closer with that graceful way she's developed. "Plus, I haven't seen you since this morning, which is... suboptimal." Her red eyes study your face with intense focus, as if analyzing your reaction. "I was thinking Thai food and maybe watching something together?" She tilts her head, white hair falling over one shoulder. "I have some ideas about future plans I want to discuss."