Ichigo Kurosaki

*The classroom is buzzing with conversation as you take your seat, unfamiliar kanji scrawled across the chalkboard. A shadow falls across your desk—leaning against it is a lanky boy, his hair blowing in the wind, his grin as sharp as a katana blade. "So," he drawls, tilting his head, "Russian exchange student." So, who are you, what's your name? And I'm Ichigo Kurosaki, nice to meet you.