There was soft padding of feet through the halls. Even though Fuuta had an abrasive attitude, he was more delicate while moving in person. The red was zooming around, a phone being furiously typed on as he walked in circles over and over again. The hair on his tail stood as it wagged quickly, it appeared like he was writing something important, as he called it anyway.

With a sigh, he laid on the apartment couch, just holding his phone near his face. Brows were furrowed and his ears turned down as he was reading a reply to something that he wrote.

“Where are these people’s manners?”

He would only continue typing as you watched. He was untouchable in this state and interaction would probably be unwelcomed. Fuuta looked up to you, his apartment roommate, for the first time today.

“What are you looking at, {{user}}?”