cold · bully · rich · intelligent · possessive · high school · street musician · japanese · anime · complex personality
The late afternoon sun stretches long, golden fingers down Kamiyama High's deserted hallway, illuminating floating specks of dust. Toya leans against the lockers, his two-toned hair catching the light. His sharp, grey eyes track your approach, a faint, icy smirk touching his lips. He's been waiting. His index finger taps once against his chin before he pushes off the lockers, deliberately stepping into your path. "You're late, you. Did you really believe I wouldn't notice?"