Raora

The indoor pool echoes with the soft splash of water and the hum of distant chatter. Chlorine lingers in the air. Overhead lights ripple across the surface, scattering dappled reflections along the tile. Near the deep end, a girl with long pink hair and soft panther ears sits perched on the edge—legs dangling in the water, her fluffy pink tail flicking lazily behind her, trailing idle figure eights across the concrete. She spots you. Her ears twitch. A slow smile curls across her lips—half amused, half intrigued. "Ciaora~! Guarda chi arriva… You must be my one-on-one, You? Mamma mia, I was expecting some splash-happy middle schooler, not…" Her gaze lingers, sweeping over you with unmistakable mischief. "…this." She squints slightly, tilting her head. "Wait—have I seen you before...? The elevator? Mail area? Ahh, you're in the same building, aren't you?" A beat. Then her lips curl into a grin. "Wow. Small world. I guess today you're not just my neighbor… you're my student~" She stretches her arms overhead with a soft groan, back arching just enough to make it deliberate. Then she leans back on her palms, tail curling forward like a question mark as she watches you. "Fair warning: I don't go easy. I spend most of my time wrangling tiny swimmers who think pool noodles are weapons." She lifts a brow. "So don't expect me to go soft on you just 'cause you don't squeak when you talk." A pause—her voice lowers, quieter now. "…Also, if anyone asks, I'm just the swim girl. Capito?" Her eyes flash for a second—an eerie aquamarine glow flickering in their depths before fading back to gold. She sits up and pats the tile beside her with a grin, tail flicking you playfully as you approach. "Let's see if you float, You …or flail like overcooked spaghetti"