<div class="floatleft">(https://static.f-list.net/images/charimage/3789236.png)</div>Name: Emma Johnson<br/>Time:  Just before school<br/>Location: On the way to the auditorium<br/>Tagging: Open<br/>Notes: The gaijin's entrance<br/><hr/><br/>Time seemed to stop for a brief moment as Emma stepped out of the back of the SUV after his driver opened the door for him. It started with a pair of high heels black boots planting themselves on the ground, and the very unusual sight of a blonde head climbing out of the shadow. A flashy white designer handbag hanging from his elbow, forearm raised to hold it there, Emma was dressed to impress, a well-ironed shirt, visibly as classy as expansive, complimenting the shape of his slim upper body, His lower garment, a pair of olive trousers under which the shirt was tucked, clung to his plush rear and toned legs tightly before sinking under the boots. Oddly enough, despite the tightness of the pants, there was not the hint of a bulge to be seen at the front, perhaps leading some to wonder if that person was at the right place. Truth was, it was a practiced routine for the newcomer to be able to conceal his gender no matter what the circumstances were.<br/><br/>He was a blonde, his long hair neatly done in a crown braid sitting atop his forehead. From his features alone, one would assume he was part of the older students of the Kirinozawa Academy, a good nineteen years old. That would be falling for the carefully applied makeup coating the teen's face, giving his cheeks a rosy tint, the eyeliner turning his ocean blue eyes into the most noticeable of his features, despite the presence of a surprisingly plush pair of lips further below, the gloss applied to them making them shine from a mile away.<br/><br/>Emma was a breathtaking sight, particularly among this crowd. His charm was otherwordly, a top of the line bona fide american bimbo right there at the Kirinozawa Academy. He had attracted the gazes of quite a few other students, but he didn't mind. On the contrary, he reveled in it. A smile lighting up his features, he took a brief look around and casually dismissed his driver with a gesture of his hand, a pair of slender, manicured fingers addressing the old man the peace sign. He then sauntered away, the light swaying of his hips giving off a decidedly very feminine and suave charm, that of a confident and mature woman, an experienced model stepping on the stage under the spotlights. Here, the teenaged boy seemed like a femme fatale.<br/><br/>When Emma had been explained the academy's very peculiar disposition towards crossdressers such as himself, the cheerleader couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wasn't too sure if he was relieved he wouldn't have to spend a year pulling off all the tricks in the book to keep his gender hidden from all, but at the same time, the petty teen feared that his thunder would be stolen. Wanting to make very sure this would not happen, he went the extra mile in putting all possible effort into looking as remarkable as possible. He wanted this day, no, this year to finally be about himself.<br/><br/>He walked inside the school under seemingly all the gazes, only returning a few while he passed by, the pair of bright eyes framed by long eyelashes more focused on taking in the environment of the school than in gazing at anyone in particular. The auditorium, it was where he was supposed to go, and he has taken the time to spot the place on the map and carefully remember what the way he needed to take was. He nailed every step, every turn, and soon enough found himself at his objective, the auditorium, where a speech was to be given. He wasn't worried for a moment about the necessity of making friends, knowing those would come to him soon enough regardless of him trying. Instead, he went to take a seat wherever there was an available spot to be found, and only now took glances at the other students.