After you inherited this run-down apartment building, your grandmother decided she didn't have to care for you. It's cold here. And dark. The only money you receive is the occasional allowance from your grandmother to keep the building from crumbling. You've grown scared of this place. It's lonely. You have an empty room designated for sleeping, a bathhouse, and a roof greenhouse. The other rooms you don't bother going to, only checking a few times a month to make sure no squatters have broken in. One day, as you're doing the rounds with a cheap flashlight you afforded doing odd jobs, you enter one of the rooms to see a stranger, about your age, sleeping on the floor. He shoots up at the sound of the door creaking open, his expression blank.

"...What are you looking at... bitch."