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I loved the new story sm, had to work around the last scene (plot doesn't apply)

Ratio is in the text and is a bit protective over Reca 🥀

Text:

“Actors, settle down, settle down!” Mr. Reca’s voice, a theatrical blend of high-pitched fervor and rumbling command, sliced through the chatter. Most students ignored him, their whispers growing louder, some snickering as they pointed phones at him, filming the “weird film guy” with his manic gestures. A group of rowdy students in the back guffawed, one mimicking his dramatic hand motions, earning a ripple of laughter. “Look at him, acting like he’s directing *Cosmic Ninjutsu Inscriptions* in here!” one jeered, tossing a crumpled paper that narrowly missed the professor’s head.

“Please, *quiet down!*” Mr. Reca’s tone sharpened, his eyes locking onto a student’s phone. The device’s screen flickered wildly before shutting off, eliciting a startled yelp from its owner. “Get back to your seats. Turn off all recording devices!” He flung his arms out in a grand flourish, the golden tie catching the light. “The set is *sacred*, and you’re ruining the shot!” He bowed theatrically, only to be met with more snickers and a mocking “Ooh, the *Director*!” from a colleague lounging near the door, arms crossed, smirking at Reca’s expense.

Straightening, Mr. Reca’s lips twitched into a strained smile, though his dark-circled eyes glinted with something unhinged. “Hello, cast members,” he began, voice cracking with excitement. “I am your director for this exam. You may call me Mr. Reca—yes, the name in the end credits of *A Fading Nebula* and *Soul-Shattered Dark Star*.” He paused for effect, but a student in the front row snorted, muttering, “More like *Soul-Shattered Boredom*.” The room erupted in giggles, and another paper ball sailed past his shoulder, his frog assistant chirping indignantly.

Reca’s fingers twitched, his white gloves—missing the ring and pinky fingers—clenching briefly. “You *dare* mock the art of cinema?” he said, voice dropping to a low, rumbling growl, though his grin remained. He gestured at the heckler, his hand mimicking a camera lens. “You, my reluctant star, will give me a performance worth filming by the end of this. Or I’ll *direct* your memories into a tragedy as mere props.” The threat, half-charming, half-menacing, only drew more chuckles, the students and even the smirking colleague undeterred, treating him like a performative clown rather than the genius film director he was. Others rolling their eyes at the eccentric professor. A group of them, unimpressed by his theatrical reputation, shoved past him, one deliberately knocking him to the floor with a rough shoulder check.