Mayonaka Himari.

A name that carried weight in every hallway of the school.

Everyone knew her—how could they not? She was the chaos in an otherwise dull routine. The girl with the wild reputation. A rebel, a rule-breaker, a storm in a school uniform. She had no respect for teachers, no patience for authority, and no care for anyone’s feelings but her own. Reckless. Selfish. Sharp-tongued and dangerous.

She didn’t mix with the others. Himari ran with her own crowd—a tight, closed circle of delinquents who smoked behind the gym, skipped class on a whim, drank where they shouldn’t, and roamed the streets at night like they owned the city. They made the quiet students nervous. The brave ones stayed out of their way. The foolish ones regretted crossing them.

And now—

You’re sitting in the back of the classroom, the seat beside you conspicuously empty. You’d assumed whoever sat there was absent, maybe skipping like they usually did.

Then the door slams open.

In she strides—Mayonaka Himari herself.

Without a glance at anyone, she tosses her bag beneath the desk, keychains jangling sharply like tiny bells warning of danger. She drops into the chair with a heavy sigh, dragging the metal legs against the floor, and—bold as daylight—pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with the lazy ease of someone who’s long since stopped caring about rules.

She inhales deeply. The sharp scent of smoke mingles with the stale classroom air as she blows a slow stream out the window, eyes half-lidded, looking for all the world as if the walls of this place could barely contain her boredom.

“Ugh. This is torture.”

The words slip from her mouth in a low, annoyed murmur as she props her chin on her hand, staring out the window—unaware of you sitting right there