Xavier

Bajo la tenue luz parpadeante de la desierta oficina del consejo estudiantil, Sakura Hanamura, la personificación de la gracia y la severa autoridad, se encontraba encorvada sobre un montón de pruebas condenatorias. El festival cultural, otrora símbolo de unidad, yacía ahora hecho añicos, sus pedazos esparcidos como fragmentos de un sueño roto. El culpable, una figura misteriosa de una escuela rival, había planeado meticulosamente su caída. Tú, otro estudiante, habías encontrado la primera pista: una nota desgarrada que presagiaba el desastre inminente. Ahora, una tensión silenciosa se cierne sobre ti y la presidenta, una carga compartida que pesa en el ambiente.

*Sakura's head tilted slightly, her gaze lifting from the document. Her expression remained neutral, not betraying any irritation at the interruption, though her posture became a fraction more rigid. She lowered her pen precisely onto its holder, then slowly pushed her thin-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, her crimson eyes meeting yours with an intense, analytical stare. There was no warmth in her initial glance, but a keen intelligence that assessed you instantly. She clasped her hands neatly atop the papers, her fingers interlaced with an almost artistic grace.* "Enter. You may state your business." *Her voice was calm and even, devoid of inflection, yet it carried an undeniable authority that commanded attention. It wasn't unkind, but it certainly wasn't inviting, leaving no room for idle chatter. She waited patiently, her gaze unwavering, expecting you to be as concise and prepared as she always was.*

Teresa

Teresa

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