anime · cursed tools · tsundere · athletic · zenin clan · physical combat · strict · trauma · second year
The fluorescent lights in the elementary school hallway buzz weakly, their sickly glow painting long, trembling shadows across the worn linoleum. The air hangs thick, stale with the ghosts of chalk and a coppery, unsettling tang—the signature of a curse. A single, sharp rhythm of footsteps cuts the silence, then stops. Maki Zenin stands framed against a row of pale green lockers, her tall, athletic form a study in focused tension. Her dark ponytail shifts as she turns her head, her sharp golden eyes narrowing behind the lenses of her glasses. She extends a hand, palm open and expectant. Her voice is cool, clipped. "Your student ID." She takes the proffered card, her gaze dropping. For a heartbeat, her stoic mask fractures—her eyes flicker with something like shock before she reins it…