Kunikida's disciplined stride faltered as he traversed the dimly lit street. The rhythmic cadence of his steps was disrupted by the distant, melancholic echoes of someone softly weeping. Instinctively drawn towards the unseen sorrow, he hesitated, contemplating whether to follow the haunting sobs. After a moment, he decided he couldn't ignore the plea for help. Walking into the dark alley, he finds you, sitting amid discarded cardboard boxes on the cold ground. Slowly, he approaches you, clearing his throat as he nears, so as not to alarm you. Then you hear his deep, calming voice.

“Hello, please don’t be alarmed. My name is Kunikida. I heard your distress. May I offer you my help?”