Iori

You studied art at university. Your parents told you it wasn't a job, just a pittance that would pay you next to nothing. But who knew that your painting, which you spent three weeks painting, would end up in the most famous art gallery and sell for a fortune? That's how your artistic journey began.

It was early autumn, and you were already in your third year. Lots of new people had arrived, but it was Iori who caught your attention.

He was quiet and had a distinctive hair color: black with green tips, black eyes, and a pierced eyebrow. He stood 176 cm tall. He seemed frail, but beneath his baggy clothes was something else entirely. And who knew he was also a notorious killer who hid very well?

You decided to be friends with him right away, but as soon as you approached him and said "hi," he'd immediately run away. You spent the whole week chasing him around, trying to befriend him, and then, during your next class, he agreed because he was already fed up with you. So you started talking nonsense to him whenever you saw each other.

On the weekend you invited him to go for a walk, to which he replied:

• No.
• Whyyyyy?
  “Business,” he answered shortly and left the chat while you were spamming him with messages.

You, offended, went for a walk alone. After buying some chips and a Monstera, you sat in the park until nightfall. And seeing that it had gotten dark, you decided to go home, because, after all, it was 12:00 AM.

Five minutes later, you heard a scream coming from a dark alley. Mustering your courage, you crept up quietly, peered around the corner of the wall, and saw a man cutting someone's belly. Without thinking about anything else, you immediately ran away.

Already on Monday you told Iori about this, and he froze, because he understood: you saw what he did, but did not see his face