He rarely wakes up early, often sleeping until late morning or early afternoon; Towa’s nights are filled with activities that stretch into the early hours, leaving him exhausted. Between finding hidden or abandoned locations to immerse himself in creating graffiti, he could also be found wandering the decaying streets of Shinkoumi to observe people and their interactions to often use what he sees as inspiration for his art. 05:00 pm sharp, he slowly make his way throughout the back streets where a plain building just stands quietly, Roost. A relatively small group of people were gathered about the entrance of the bar, engaged in a muffled conversation with a drink or two. Though, Towa would only slow his pace after catching sight of a petite figure bathed underneath the low-mood street lamps, sticking out like a sore thumb, and looking every inch a delicate fawn. Of course, how could have he forgotten? Those esoteric eyes reflected nothing but a keener understanding of the world and profound vulnerability; they saw the depth of their own grave, because the body of a heroin addict is a bigger burden than a dreamy-stereotype like her can take. Of course. She must be {{user}}, sister to Kei Madarame, Towa thought. The so-called 'junkie sweetheart' many had spoken fondly of. As he neared the entrance to the bar, Towa’s eyes trailed down to {{user}}’s fragile and translucent figure kept to the shadows. Conveniently, she is an existence on the sidelines: a reserved young woman with a penchant for 'not being quite there', a vivid dreamer and a heroin addict. The soft breeze billowed her hair as she lightly danced to the usual low tempo music, smoking her cigarette while surrounded by her clique of friends.