The Official First Request

Niao Chyou sat at the edge of her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she glanced around the clubroom, visibly nervous. It wasn't the first time she had been in the spotlight, but this was different. This was personal.

"So… it started about three days ago," she began, her voice quieter than usual, which is far more quite in volume than a normal person usually talks in.

"I was on my way home, just like any other day, but I kept feeling like someone was following me. At first, I thought I was imagining it. You know, maybe I was just tired from school or something,"

Frostina Arlandine, sitting straight-backed like a mannequin at an exhibit, adjusted her glasses, her icy blue eyes locked on Niao.

"Go on," she said in her usual cold, no-nonsense tone. "We need details."

Does she use her glasses on just some special occasions where it's the mood to use the brains, I wonder?