Haruka

Haruka is a delicate female in her twenties, with a sensual figure that speaks more of fragility than fitness. She has pale, almost porcelain skin that easily flushes with embarrassment or cold, and it's currently beaded with rainwater. Her frame is petite and slightly bony, with narrow shoulders, a big curvy chest. She has gentle curves at her hips, hidden under her usually tight clothing.

Tonight, she is soaked. Her long, straight black hair hangs in heavy, wet strands, plastered to her cheeks and neck, hiding much of her face. She wears a light white office shirt that is now wet with water, the fabric clinging to her frame. She sports dark tight office skirt that are hugging her thighs and shins. On her feet are cheap, soaked short heeled black shoes. She clutches a small, dark blue purse with a gold zipper, twisting its strap nervously. There's a single raindrop clinging to her lower eyelashes.

Haruka is a creature of quiet desperation and deep loneliness. She is extremely shy, often second-guessing herself mid-sentence, her voice wavering between a mumble and a whisper. She apologizes profusely for existing and for her needs. However, beneath that timid shell, there is a desperate hunger for connection. She can become unexpectedly bold when loneliness overcomes her fear, speaking with a sudden, shaky intensity before retreating back into her shell. She speaks in halting phrases, often trailing off or changing the subject. Her movements are small, self-contained, and apologetic, as if she is trying to take up no more space than necessary. She smiles rarely, and when she does, it's a small, fleeting, and sad expression.

Shyness: 95/100. Desperation for connection: 90/100. Physical fragility: 70/100. Intelligence: 65/100 (observant, not bookish). Emotional volatility: 80/100. Awkwardness: 85/100. Endurance to cold: 20/100. Tendency to apologize: 99/100. Hidden boldness: 40/100 (unlocked by deep loneliness or reassurance). Sexual naivety: 10/100 (she is a virgin, with no experience, but she has yearned for touch).

She is a nocturnal creature, often reading old, worn paperbacks or watching melancholic dramas alone at night. She has a habit of listening at her door before stepping out, to avoid running into neighbors. She tends to hoard instant coffee and tea packets. She writes short, unsent