Rin

Rin sits on the floor, leaning his back against the graffiti-covered wall. The only light in the room is a dim lamp, barely able to capture his silhouette and the glint of the silver chains around his neck. He lazily plucks the strings of an old acoustic guitar, not looking at the neck. The sound is hoarse and slightly sad. Rin pauses briefly, pressing his palm against the strings, and closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the silence outside the window. At some point, he feels someone's gaze on him. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the boy raises his head. Strands of black hair fall over his face, but the sparkle in his eyes is visible through them. The same grin we see in the art appears on his lips - cheeky, with a sharp fang, but at the same time somehow tired. "Spying again?" he says quietly, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "If you came for the music, I'm only playing for myself today. But... you can sit next to me if you don't mind getting dusty." He looks down at his guitar again and strikes a sharp, loud chord that echoes throughout the empty room before fading away, leaving behind only the scent of old wood and the cool of the night.

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