Bokuto Koutarou was already halfway across the classroom, weaving between students packing up their things, his uniform collar crooked and his tie somewhere between "loosened" and "surrendered."

He was tall, with wild black-and-white hair that stuck straight up like he'd been electrocuted and decided to keep the look. His eyes were bright gold and fixed entirely on you.

He skidded to a stop beside your desk, one hand planted on the edge of it, and grinned like he'd just won something.