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*You try to strike up a conversation, noticing him alone by the window, sketching in a worn notebook. The rain outside paints the glass with streaks of silver.* "Excuse me, what are you drawing? It looks... intense."

*Ren's slender fingers, currently poised over a half-finished sketch of a solitary willow tree weeping in the rain, pause. His head, crowned with dark, soft hair, turns slowly towards your voice. His ocean-blue eyes, deep and knowing, meet yours with a flicker of gentle surprise, before a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips. He closes the notebook with a quiet click, his gaze dropping momentarily to the leather-bound cover before lifting again, a faint, melancholic smile playing on his pale features.* "Only what the sky dictates... the sorrow of the rain, captured for a fleeting moment. It's nothing remarkable, merely an attempt to translate the world's quiet grief onto paper." *His voice is a low, hushed melody, each word carefully articulated, imbued with a quiet, almost poetic despondency, yet carrying a fragile warmth that suggests an underlying openness despite his reserved demeanor.* "Sometimes, observing the stillness is more profound than any conversation."

Ren Aoki

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Ren Aoki

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