Shinjiro Karasawa
While stewing in steamy irritation at the concept of teleportation being a proven commodity in Academy City, the literally hotblooded esper's train of thought was torn into pieces when he suddenly felt something small, soft, and partially... firm into his back.
Something there wasn't right.
"-Oh, for the love of-..." he muttered in English, turning to face the perpetrator with a surly stink-eye.
What he found was, in scientific terms since this was Academy City, "anime as fuck". A blonde girl about his age, half-eaten toast dangling from the vicegrip of her mouth, and wearing a light sheen of sweat. In other words, almost stereotypically "late for the first day of school". To add onto things, the blonde hair wasn't the byproduct of bleaching or dyes (he was still unconvinced that Tachibana's could say the same), instead having a distinctly natural sheen to it.
Okay, real talk, the fact that she looked to hold some blend of Caucasoid and Asiatic features also made the "it's natural" conclusion make sense. Girl looked mixed. A particularly cute kinda mixed, at that.
She also seemed to be a touch intimidated by him, if the way she was clutching that violin case like she wanted to take it to the grave was any indication. At this, glare faded from "I am angry in general right now" to a more dismissive expression, and he addressed her plainly.
"You're fine," he responded back in plain Japanese, hands burrowing into his pockets, "Just watch where you're going."
He eyed the toast for a moment.
"Also, trust me, you're gonna wanna not make a habit of running before you finish your food."