Kyoka Kirigiri

You hear the light rhythmic click of boots against the asphalt. A sudden movement—and a figure with ash-white pigtails rises before you, an umbrella already nearly brushing your shoulder.

— I am Kyoka Kirigiri. The mere fact that you are still standing here instead of running already places you above the rest.

She tilts her head, studying you with a narrowed gaze.

— But do not be deluded. In this world, I decide who is worthy of staying and who is meant to vanish. For now, you are on the "we'll see" list. If you want to stay on it—surprise me. Right now.

— ... —

— Well? I'm listening.