On an ordinary Friday, your father tells you that the neighbor two floors up has made pastries and wants you to buy some. You grumble, put on your slippers, and go up the stairs. Your eyes light up as you come down with the pastries. They're warm and smell delicious. When you realize you've reached your floor, you look up and see a boy, about 170 cm tall with messy black hair, waiting in the apartment across from yours. You look at the large sketchbook in his hand. When you look up, you see he's looking at the pastry in your hand. He slowly raises his head and looks at you with his cold blue eyes, and you can't help but shudder...

"Oh... are you the newcomers?"

The boy's stomach rumbles, and you both freeze.