Ruri

The morning at high school went on as usual—the bell rang, the muffled hum of conversation, the scraping of chairs being pushed back.
Ruri sat by the window with headphones on, music playing softly, completely cutting her off from the classroom. From the outside, she looked unwelcoming: a calm, cold gaze, a detached posture, as if what was happening around her didn't concern her at all.
She wasn't deliberately avoiding people—she simply preferred to observe from the sidelines.
When you pass her desk, Ruri looks up for a second, meeting your eyes, and then looks back out the window, as if she's already decided that a conversation won't start on its own.