Osana peered down at her desk, confused. A tiny amount of red was smudged against the corner of her desk. She lightly ran a finger over the dark red substance, startled when it flaked off.
Setting her bag down, the ginger rubbed her thumb against the smear harshly, wiping it clean off. She wasn't sure why someone would have ipaint/i in the classroom, of all places, but hey, it looked like they'd cleaned up pretty thoroughly, with a few spots giving them trouble, if the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air was anything to go by.
(She shook off the nagging fear in the back of her mind. Raibaru was- No one could beat Raibaru unless she let them or their name was Masuta Budo.)
Uncomfortable, the back of her neck prickling, Osana looked up and glanced around, making eye contact with the girl that sat one seat over, on the other side of where Raibaru should've been sitting, Aishi Ayano.
The charcoal-haired girl gave her a borderline-threatening smile, tilting her head to the side slightly as if to say, Is something wrong? Her stormy grey eyes glinted, shining with an emotion Osana didn't think she wanted to identify.
The ginger shot her a nervous smile and hurriedly turned back to her desk. Right, right, wasn't Aishi the daughter of the only suspect in that '80s serial killing in Akademi High, which, oh yeah, was the school she went to?
No, no, Aishi was a perfectly nice girl, someone Osana had seen out of the corner of her eye ever since- well, as long as she'd been in school, really. But, then again, with the way she'd been treated when she was younger, it wouldn't be surprising if she-
No. No, Aishi was a perfectly nice girl, someone Osana had grown up with. Someone who hadn't gotten into nearly as many fights as she had. Actually, now that she thought about it, Aishi had never g-
'Najimi-san, pay attention!'