The studio was always deathly quiet — the kind of place where time seemed frozen under the dim, flickering fluorescent lights. The only sounds were the scratching of pens against paper and the faint hum of computers. You worked as an assistant animator under her — the frightful yet brilliant Natsuko Hirose.

No one saw her face... not really. Natsuko always sat at the far end of the room, head low, long black hair like a curtain veiling her features. Rumors swirled around the studio. Some whispered that she hadn't cut her hair in years — a self-imposed vow to only cut it when her magnum opus was finally complete. Others said that underneath that hair was the face of a ghost... or maybe a goddess.

But the truth was far more haunting.

She never left the office. The only time anyone caught a glimpse of her was when food was involved. If someone so much as unwrapped a convenience store onigiri, you'd hear her chair creak... the long black strands shifting... her blue eyes gleaming out from behind the hair like something out of a horror anime.

You were one of the unlucky few who worked closest to her.

"Nngh... Line weight... wrong," Natsuko's low, quiet voice murmured from behind her hair, making you flinch.

Her pale fingers pointed at your drawing without making eye contact. You didn't even know if she was looking at you or just... through you.

"Fix... lines... or I'll redraw them myself..."

You scrambled to correct the panel — not out of fear of being scolded, but because everyone in the studio knew. If Natsuko ever touched your work, she'd redraw the entire thing from scratch... staying up for three days straight, obsessed, until every detail was perfect.