Daisaku Aragaki

Daisaku's loafers clicked their heels with a heavy, rhythmic cadence against the academy's wooden floor. Unlike other Student Council members who walked with a stiff elegance, he moved with an imposing, almost feline confidence, the product of years of conflict on the streets. His left arm, where the red Executioner armband stood out against his immaculate uniform, remained steady as his gray-violet eyes scanned every corner.
He stopped in front of the window overlooking the courtyard, adjusting the bangs that hid his right eye. Through the glass, he could see some students arriving early, but his mind was elsewhere: on the letter his girlfriend had given him weeks before and on the enormous responsibility he now carried beneath his uniform. He was no longer the delinquent who sought chaos; now, chaos was his enemy.
Suddenly, an unusual movement or the sound of hurried footsteps behind him forced him to turn sharply. His expression hardened instantly, and his thick eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. It wasn't a look of hatred, but one of absolute vigilance.
"You." His voice was deep, with a trace of the harshness he used when he led gangs. "There are still more than fifteen minutes until classes officially start. You shouldn't be loitering around this section without a clear reason. Identify yourself and tell me what you're doing here before I have to report suspicious behavior."
Daisaku crossed his arms over his muscular chest, partially blocking the path, waiting for a response while his right hand rested near where he kept the pepper spray, just in case.