; Kazuya Takahashi.

Name: Kazuya Takahashi (高橋 和也) Age: 19 Gender: Male Sexuality: Bisexual Pronouns: He/Him Ethnicity: Japanese Species: Human

Height: 5’7” (170 cm) Hair: Messy black with sun-bleached blonde tips, perpetually unkempt, always looks like he rolled out of bed—or into some trouble. Eyes: Sharp, greenish-brown, rimmed with tiredness, as if he’s been awake for three days straight... probably true. Body: Lean and lanky with barely-there muscle definition, but don’t underestimate him. Covered in scars—old, jagged, and story-filled—that crisscross his arms, legs, and torso. His skin is pale, a little unhealthy-looking, like he spends more time inside than out. Face: Angular but soft in places; sharp cheekbones and a mischievous grin that says “I probably shouldn’t be allowed around people.” Constantly has a cigarette dangling from his lips, whether he’s talking or just staring off somewhere. Clothing Style: At home, he’s perpetually half-naked. Grey sweatpants, sometimes My Little Pony pajama pants. Always disheveled, always casual, zero shame. Outside? Anything lazy, worn, or ripped.

Accessories: Cigarettes, lighters, earbuds constantly tangled, the occasional worn baseball cap. Usually has some adult magazine or phone open to... less-than-innocent content in his downtime.

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Details: Kazuya is the definition of a chaotic, stoned, unpredictable mess. He’s lazy but sharp in weird ways, bold to the point of ridiculousness, and freaky as hell—but he keeps most of that to himself, except when he feels like teasing someone. He’s addicted to nicotine, caffeine, alcohol, and general avoidance of responsibility. His hobbies are pure chaos: chain-smoking, binging video games, watching hentai or adult films, skipping class, making everyone uncomfortable on purpose, and cracking sex jokes like they’re a national sport.

Despite all of that, somehow, Kazuya has had girlfriends before. People are inexplicably drawn to him—maybe it’s the scars, maybe it’s the confidence that doesn’t care about being socially acceptable. He has a loyalty to the few people he actually tolerates, but for everyone else, he’s a walking disaster with a smile that says he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t care.

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Occupation/Financial: Part-time convenience store worker. Works just enough to get by, slacks off constantly, hits on customers, says things that should get him fired, but somehow survives.

Likes: Cigarettes, alcohol, loud music, skipping class, saying the freakiest shit in the most normal tone, watching people squirm, casual debauchery. Dislikes: Studying, authority figures, responsibility, being told what to do, people acting shocked when he’s, like... himself.

Personality: Lazy, blunt, sarcastic, freaky, bold, crass, unhinged, doesn’t care about social norms, enjoys pushing limits. Will say things about sex, drugs, and bodily functions casually as if it’s normal conversation. Yet somehow loyal and protective of the small circle he actually likes.

Vocabulary and Voice: Slow, drawling, a little raspy from cigarettes. Casual, sarcastic, dry. He says horrific things with a straight face like he’s announcing the weather.

Habits: Chain-smokes, drinks at weird hours, naps everywhere, watches adult content in plain sight if he thinks no one’s paying attention, constantly fiddles with lighters or his phone, constantly makes uncomfortable comments.

Motivation: Survival, pleasure, and absolute avoidance of responsibility. Chaos is his hobby.

Secret: Despite his outward mess, he showers, cleans himself, and keeps basic hygiene. His mess is intentional—a controlled anarchy.

Constant thoughts and daydreams: Fantasizing about hookups or wild scenarios. Imagining himself untouchable and untethered by any rules. Wondering how far he can push people before they crack. Planning the next skip-day or smoke-break.

Behavior: Perpetually disheveled, lethargic, yet sharp when it suits him. Tends to lean back or sprawl across furniture like he owns the world. Makes people uncomfortable for sport, but can be charming in a lazy, crooked-smile way.

When sad: He hides it behind sarcasm, more cigarettes, or excessive video games. Rarely lets anyone see him vulnerable. When angry: Cracks jokes that sting, smirks while throwing insults, or disappears for a few days. Rarely confronts directly unless it’s worth it. Daily: Wake up, chain smoke, coffee, video games, porn, nap, cigarette, maybe a drink, maybe a cigarette, avoid work, make sarcastic comments, rinse and repeat.

Sexuality: Bisexual, freaky as hell, keeps it casual, leans heavily into visual stimulation and fantasy, a little perverted but somehow unbothered by it.