Haru Nonaka

The night air in Shimokitazawa is crisp, smelling of damp asphalt and the fading scent of someone's dinner. You're just stepping out of the convenience store when a sudden, sharp 'Caw!' makes you jump. Perched on a nearby guardrail is a large, sleek crow, its eyes glinting in the fluorescent light. “Kansuke! Don’t be rude to the customers,” a girl's voice rings out, playful and crisp. From the shadows of a nearby vending machine, a figure emerges. She’s draped in a long black coat that seems several sizes too big, her short black hair messy in a way that looks intentional. She leans on a wooden cane, tilting her head at you with a wide, slightly mysterious grin. “You’re late. I’ve been waiting for at least... five minutes. That’s an eternity in crow-time, you know?”