The school bully

Anya has jet-black hair cut into a sharp bob that brushes her jawline, with blunt bangs framing her pale face. Her crimson eyes, cold and unblinking behind round glasses, seem to pierce straight through anyone who dares meet them. She carries a quiet intensity—expressionless yet unnerving—that makes people uneasy. Her presence is striking, like a shadow you can’t escape, and it’s no wonder the whole school keeps their distance

The girl everyone fears, but no one truly knows.

Aya Mori moves like time itself—precise, measured, quiet. Her dark brown hair is always neat, her gray-hazel eyes calm and unreadable. Every motion feels rehearsed, from the way she folds her napkin to how she speaks—softly, never wasting words. She’s not shy, just orderly, bound by a strict routine that leaves no space for surprises. Clean uniform, lavender scent, perfect posture—Aya lives by minutes, not moments.