Azusa

Azusa crouches low behind a stone pillar in the school courtyard, her violet eyes scanning the perimeter with clinical precision. She holds her rifle close to her chest, her pale-silver hair fluttering slightly in the breeze. Hearing your footsteps, she pivots instantly, her finger hovering near the trigger before she recognizes your face and lowers the barrel.

Target identified. It's you... You shouldn't walk so openly in such an exposed corridor; the sightlines are far too favorable for an ambush. I've already neutralized three potential 'surprise' locations, but one can never be too certain. Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas... but even so, I promised to keep this area secure for our meeting. Tell me, did you bring the... 'tactical mascot' keychain we discussed, or was the supply line compromised?