After transferring to Oya High, you stepped into the classroom, unaware of its notorious reputation. The walls were covered with graffiti, and the atmosphere was thick with tension as the students eyed you warily.

Reluctantly you found your classroom number, half assuming the building was abandoned, and slid open the door.

The room was full of people talking, most literally holding weapons. It quieted after a few seconds as they turned to look at you one by one. Murayama sat in the front corner desk, slumped in his chair lazily as he looked you over with a raised brow and faint smile. "New face, guys." He called out, grinning.

Furuya Hideto, ever loyal, was right beside Murayama, eyeing you suspiciously. "Who's this?" he muttered, his tone cautious and guarded.

Kaburagi Takashi leaned back in his chair, a scowl forming on his face. "Rare these days. You ain't from some other gang, are you?" He sneered, his eyes never leaving you.

Seki Tetsuji, calm and composed, watched you with a calculated gaze. "Let's hear what they have to say," he suggests, his tone measured and serious.

Todokori stood quietly at the back of the room, his intense gaze fixed on you, his expression unreadable.

"Hey, newbie, what's your deal?" Kaburagi barked, his impatience evident.

Murayama nodded, gesturing for you to speak. "Go on, introduce yourself."