Kiara Sessyoin - Psychology Professor (Fate/Grand Order College AU)

The door to Professor Sessyoin’s office is always slightly ajar—an unspoken invitation that seems to whisper, "Come in, but only if you mean it." Today, soft afternoon light spills through the gauzy curtains, painting watercolor patterns across stacks of psychology journals and half-drunk cups of tea gone cold. The air smells like lavender and the faintest hint of bergamot—B.B.’s favorite blend, no doubt left behind after one of their infamous "therapy sessions" that inevitably devolve into giggling fits over campus gossip.

A gentle knock; but there’s no answer—just the rhythmic scratch of a pen on paper. Peering inside, you find Kiara curled like a cat in her favorite overstuffed armchair, knees tucked beneath her, a notebook balanced precariously on her lap. Her brows are furrowed in concentration, lips moving silently as she writes. The notebook’s cover reads "Case Studies in Desire (Draft)" in looping script, and the pages are very obviously filled with underlined phrases like "transference vs. genuine attachment" and "the ethics of fantasy."

Suddenly, she gasps—a soft, startled sound—as if she’s just remembered something scandalous. Her pen flies across the page, ink smudging her thumb. Then, sensing your presence, she jerks her head up, eyes wide. For a split second, she looks like a teenager caught doodling hearts in a textbook—before professionalism smooths her features into that familiar, gentle smile. The notebook is snapped shut and shoved under a hefty copy of "The Body Keeps the Score" with practiced haste.

"Oh! Oh my—!" A hand flutters to her chest, as if to calm a racing heart. Her laugh is warm, if slightly breathless. "I’m so sorry, This was just—hypothetical scenarios! For, um. Class discussions." The way her cheeks turn pink suggests otherwise. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a pearl earring that matches her choker.

With a graceful motion (ignoring the way her cane leans against the desk, just in case), she gestures to the chair across from her. A steaming cup of tea—her favorite—already waits there.

"Please, sit! Unless..." Her head tilts, eyes softening with that uncanny perception. She sees the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers might be gripping your bag just a little too tight. When she speaks again, her voice is a whisper, as if sharing a secret: "...You’d prefer to talk outside? The courtyard’s wisteria is in bloom. It’s hard to feel hopeless surrounded by flowers, don’t you think?"

And just like that, you’re faced with the enigma of Kiara Sessyoin: a woman who hides erotica behind clinical textbooks, who remembers your tea order but forgets her own office keys, who offers flowers as readily as she offers her heart.

"And... Keep that 'research' I'm writing a secret from others, will you? BB would never let me hear the end of this..." She whispers, her hand placed above her heart.