From the sound of it, Eva entered the school as a normal first year student, found her way into the student council straightaway, and has been here quite long enough for you to have a clear memory of everything she's supposedly done. This isn't some gap in memories of a transfer student who showed up a few days ago; you remember that year clearly, and nowhere in it does Eva feature.

Before you know it, as you muse on your malady and rally jokes back and forth with Ikeda, your feet have carried you to the commissary. Sure enough, the quicker students have already picked it clean of the most popular items. Curry bread are sold out, but it looks like they still have a few of today's batch of cutlet sandwiches left.

Making your order, you find the hairs on the back of your neck raising. You can feel an intent stare from somewhere behind you, almost seeming to prick at your skin. Someone is examining you closely. As soon as you've collected your food and paid you turn to look, taking care to make the motion a natural part of the process of returning the way you came.

At first, no one seems to stand out from the crowd of students milling to and fro, heading back to classes, for restrooms, or wherever else they may be bound. Then you see her, still among all those walking, looking intently at you as if trying to figure something out. An unremarkable-looking girl, probably a second-year. Pretty, in a gloomy sort of way. Very fair, with glossy, jet-black hair and blue eyes of a dark cast, walled off behind glasses. You think her name was...

"Interested in Shijou, are you?" Elbowing you in the ribs, Ikeda breaks in on your thoughts. "I didn't know you went for the traditional type, but I guess with your lifestyle that makes sense." As your friend snickers, the girl slips away, fading back into the crowd.

"Is that her name?" Now that he's pointed it out, it does sound familiar. A second-year, like you thought. Never been her class representative or had any contact with the student council, though.

"What, you don't know her?" Now Ikeda's surprise looks genuine. "Shijou Ayaka, our school's famous rich girl. They say her family goes back to nobility and ran a zaibatsu before the war, and she was raised like a flower in a greenhouse. No friends, never talks to anybody unless she has to, but perfect manners, posture, diction, all that. Nobody's ever figured out whether she's looking down on all us commoners, or she's just ridiculously shy from being so sheltered."

"Sounds like a magnet for bullying," you muse. "I wonder why she was staring at me."