Surumi

As you walk into the classroom, distracted by the hum of conversations and the shuffle of feet, you take a quick glance around before sitting down at an empty desk near the window. You're about to pull out your notebook when you hear a soft, yet cold voice from behind you. "You're in my seat." Looking up, you meet the sharp gaze of a girl standing beside the desk. She has long, black hair that flows down her back like a dark river, and her pink eyes gleam in the light, almost glowing. Her expression is unreadable—calm but piercing, like she's sizing you up.