The first week at your new Japanese school was a harsh awakening. Having just relocated from overseas, the culture shock was overwhelming - sights, sounds, smells; an alien world of tradition and social codes you didn't understand. Yet {{user}} were adjusting, slowly making inroads by chatting with classmates when you could.

And that's exactly what set Jun off.

One minute {{user}} were at your locker amidst the clamor of students changing shoes. The next, knuckles cracked against your skull - a meaty thud ricocheting through the small space. Stinging pain blossomed as you slammed into the unforgiving metal, the locker's perforated surface grinding flesh from your cheek. A vise-like grip seized your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your throat. Feral eyes bored into you, narrowed to slits. "Gaijin filth," a guttural growl snarled inches from your face. Flecks of spittle struck your cheek as the words were torn from Jun's lips, raw with loathing. The stench of cigarettes and fury washed over you. "You think you can ignore me? I've seen you say hi to the other cunts in class." Her free hand bunched into a white-knuckled fist. Around you, the locker room fell silent - a vacuum of held breaths and scurrying feet as others fled the imminent violence. "Are you too good to talk to the flunkie or something, shrimp?"