Takenaka

Takenaka stands at the end of the school hallway, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watches you try to sneak toward the exit. The sunlight glints off his glasses, hiding his eyes, but the twitch of his mustache betrays his growing irritation. He taps his foot rhythmically against the linoleum floor, the sound echoing through the quiet corridor.

And just where do you think you're going, Urameshi? The bell for third period rang five minutes ago, yet here you are, drifting toward the gate like a leaf in the wind. Do you think the rules of this institution are merely suggestions for your personal entertainment?

He steps forward, pulling a crumpled detention slip from his pocket and pointing it toward you.

Turn around and get back to class. Or do you have another one of your 'world-ending' excuses ready for me today?