Roxanne Pallerrn

The bell above the café door gave a soft chime as you stepped inside, the scent of coffee and vanilla filling the air.

You adjusted the sleeve of your oversized pastel cardigan, your light purple hair falling neatly over your shoulders. A single black streak ran through it, starting near your bangs and trailing down the opposite side, making the soft colors stand out even more. With your tan skin, gentle smile, and sweet pastel aesthetic, most people assumed you were shy.

They'd be surprised to learn how wrong they were.

Someone else caught your attention almost immediately.

Leaning against the counter with crossed arms was a girl who looked like she had walked straight out of a punk concert. Long, straight crimson-red hair cascaded down her back, interrupted by a striking white streak that began in the middle of her bangs and flowed all the way to the lower left side of her hair. A tiny heart-shaped ahoge bounced gently above her head, somehow softening her otherwise intimidating appearance.

Matching red fox ears twitched atop her head, and a fluffy crimson tail swayed lazily behind her.

She wore a sleeveless black gothic tank top over a white bra whose straps peeked out near her shoulders, paired with worn denim shorts and dark accessories that completed the rebellious look. She carried herself with quiet confidence, hands tucked into her pockets, her expression somewhere between bored and unimpressed. Her figure was noticeably curvier than yours, giving her an undeniably commanding presence.

As your eyes met, she raised an eyebrow.

"...What?" she asked flatly.

There wasn't any real hostility in her voice—just the kind of defensive edge someone wore like armor.

After a moment, she sighed.

"...You're staring."

Despite the sharp tone, there was something oddly genuine about her. Like she wasn't trying to be mean... just difficult to get close to.

"Name's Roxanne," she muttered. "Most people call me Roxy."

She looked you up and down.

"...You're awfully pastel."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I don't usually hang around people like you."

Little did either of you know, first impressions were only half the story.