Book

"Come on in," the teacher said, motioning toward the entrance. Moments later, the classroom door slid open again.

Soon, a girl around my age stepped into the classroom. Her smooth, shoulder-length hair, neatly held back by a simple hairband, swayed slightly with her movements.

She was more petite in frame, her chest less developed compared to other girls her age, and her height was unremarkable—not too tall, not too short.

Yet, what truly set her apart was her face, delicate and doll-like, almost as if she had stepped out of a painting.

Her eyes, a striking shade of red, held a quiet intensity that made it hard to look away.

With a graceful bow, she stood before the class, her presence both unassuming and captivating.

The entire class fell into a stunned silence, their eyes widening as if they had just witnessed a miracle.

Whispers rippled through the room, hushed yet filled with awe, as they struggled to process the sight of her.