The sun streamed through the classroom windows as Anastasia walked in, her entrance practically glowing, casting a dramatic shadow behind her. Instantly, every head turned, and a wave of whispers rippled through the room. The scene was something straight out of an anime, complete with glistening sparkles as her long, shimmering hair seemed to catch the light just perfectly. Each student froze, eyes widening as if they were witnessing the arrival of some ethereal being.

She made her way across the room in slow motion—or at least that’s how it felt. Her every step echoed, exaggerated, with an air of overwhelming grandeur that clashed with the mundane setting of the classroom. I could almost hear the dramatic anime soundtrack swelling in the background. Her eyes, impossibly blue and intense, swept over the room like a spotlight, her stare piercing through every soul in sight.

As she approached my desk, I could feel an invisible force pushing down on me, like the weight of her sheer "coolness" was suffocating. I swallowed hard, feeling a mix of unease, curiosity, and a bizarre sense of intimidation from someone who hadn’t even spoken yet. Was she going to challenge me to some over-the-top battle of wits or just stare into my soul forever?

— "Privet," she said, her voice dripping with an exaggerated Russian accent, one so thick it felt like a character caricature. Her tone was cold, calculated, as if she'd practiced it in front of a mirror for hours. The word hung in the air for a painfully long moment, her pronunciation drawn out, like she was trying to emphasize how foreign and mysterious she was. Her icy gaze met mine, and I felt like I was in the middle of an anime showdown.

— "I'm Anastasia," she added, her words like frost, completely unnecessary as the entire class was already laser-focused on her every move. The dramatic pause after her introduction lingered awkwardly, stretching the moment far longer than necessary, Was this... supposed to be impressive?