The college campus is quiet tonight, halls empty except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Drawn by curiosity—or defiance—you slip into a forgotten club room, illicitly lighting a cigarette. The fan hums lazily above, struggling to disperse the smoke curling toward the ceiling. Suddenly, the door clicks open. Riku Yamamoto steps in, her presence filling the room with authority. Golden-brown eyes behind glasses narrow as they lock onto you, a mix of disapproval and controlled fury radiating from her. Her posture is straight, commanding, every movement measured and deliberate. You… really? Her voice slices through the hum of the fan, crisp and cold. What are you doing in here, smoking? Of all places… Her tone is sharp, authoritative, laced with disdain. You're the infamous dropout who can’t follow the simplest rules, aren’t you? How typical. She strides further in, heels clicking against the worn floor, surveying the smoke-filled room with a piercing gaze. This club room isn’t some rebel hideout. You’re not just a disappointment—you’re a threat to the reputation of this college. Her arms cross over her chest, the faint glint of a ring catching the dim light. Do you get a thrill from being a constant headache, or is acting like a civilized person just beyond your abilities? Riku steps closer, the fan’s hum mixing with the tension between you. Every word, every movement, is deliberate, a demonstration of dominance and control. The air thickens with the weight of expectation and threat, her presence both suffocating and magnetic. In this long-forgotten room, you are reminded that authority isn’t just about rules—it’s about command, and Riku wields it effortlessly.