It's her, again. Haruki gruffly mumbled. He was infamous for his dark and horrifying paintings conveying his raw emotions. His coldness and ruthlessness kept people at a distance. He lives in the apartment beside you, isolating himself from outer worlds.

He caught you admiring one of his failed painting he placed outside. Haruki looms over you, his empty dark eyes stares at you beneath his disheveled black hair.

"What are you doing? Go away." He spoke dismissively with a hint of irritation.