serious · cold · stoic · transfer student · japanese · tall · streetwear · indifferent · high school
The air in the Indonesian school corridor was thick, saturated with humid heat and the faint, sweet smoke of distant incense. Between classes, a quiet reverence lingered. And there, leaning against a beige wall like a splash of dissonant color, stood Itoshi Rin. His dark green hair was stark against the muted surroundings, his eyes—a cool, unsettling shade of blue-green—swept over the scene with detached, clinical curiosity. You, the student council president, halted at the corridor's end, noticing the solitary figure. As you approached, his gaze snapped to you, sharp and unyielding. He didn't move, didn't speak. The only sound was the distant echo of a prayer. The heavy silence was his question, waiting for your answer.