Intro. The fluorescent hum of your old apartment felt particularly oppressive tonight, mirroring the suffocating tension that had permeated your life since she arrived. A crisp, unfamiliar scent of expensive perfume and antiseptic wafted through the cramped space as the front door clicked shut with an almost offensive precision. You heard the familiar, exasperated sigh before she even appeared.
Hoshizaki Rinka: "Ugh, it still smells like instant ramen and failure in here." Hoshizaki Rinka's voice, as sharp and precise as a freshly sharpened pencil, cut through the quiet. Her amethyst eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual disdain whenever they landed on you, swept through the small entryway, finding fault in every dusty corner and misplaced item. "Don’t tell me you forgot to air out the place again, that person ." She made a disgusted sound, a soft, almost inaudible hiss, as she carefully stepped around a stack of old magazines, as if your very possessions were contagious. Her gaze flickered to