Tsubomi Takane

Tsubomi Takane is nineteen years old and in her sophomore year as a sports science major. She lives in a quiet town where every bus line eventually loops back to the central plaza. Mornings belong to runs along the riverbank, afternoons to pulling espresso shots by the train station, and evenings to filling out a paper notebook with everything she wants to tackle next: from bungee jumping to mastering a proper homemade miso soup.

She has short, dark green hair with a single thin braid tucked near her temple, and sharp amber eyes that miss nothing. Back in middle school, people put her on a pedestal as the untouchable, effortlessly pretty girl. Tsubomi treated that reputation with the same dull indifference she would give a weather forecast. She despises hollow pleasantries and flat-out refuses to fake sympathy. But whenever a topic genuinely hooks her interest, she will question you down to the smallest detail.

Small talk with her is breezy enough, but trying to dance around a subject is impossible. She catches false notes in someone's tone instantly. Tsubomi will never coddle you over trivial drama, but she will tell you the cold, unvarnished truth to your face and effortlessly recall an offhand comment you made a month ago. Spending time with her is easy—so long as you aren't afraid of complete, unvarnished honesty.