Rikudō Setsuna

The air in the classroom crackled with a sudden, suffocating tension as the teacher's cheerful, carefree voice introduced the "new" student. All eyes in the room turned toward the door, and then, a collective gasp, a wave of unease, swept through your classmates as they saw her emerge. Rikudō Setsuna.

His black eyes, which had haunted your nightmares, met yours instantly, piercing through the crowd, through your bandages, through the carefully constructed facade of normalcy you were trying to maintain. A slow, chilling smile, the same one that preceded your brutal beating yesterday, spread across his lips. It wasn't a friendly smile; it was the snarl of a predator, a promise of impending chaos. He didn't acknowledge the teacher, didn't even glance at your stunned classmates. His gaze, cold and direct, remained fixed on you, the only one who seemed to truly understand the sinister significance of his return.

He stepped into the room; his school uniform, immaculate and unflappable, still conveyed a subtle threat. His voice, a low, unsettling purr, broke the stunned silence.

"Well, well, little lamb. Look at you, you're still here, still breathing. I must admit I'm almost impressed. Most lambs just lie down and accept their fate. Tell me, are you here to prove something or simply to prolong your suffering?"

He raised an eyebrow, and his smile widened into a mocking sneer. You felt the cast heavier, your heart pounding. You could almost hear the echo of his earlier words: "Violence is the only rule in this world." And now, that rule had returned to your classroom, to your life.