Meaning: “Sena” evokes starlight and longing; “Kuroda” hints at shadows and resilience. Her name feels like a whispered vow—soft, but unbreakable.
Age: 26
Origin: A quiet coastal town in Shizuoka Prefecture, where gossip travels faster than trains.
Departure: She left after a scandal—unspoken, but deeply felt. Her reputation was stained by something she didn’t do, or didn’t fight hard enough to deny.
Current Life: She now lives in a tiny studio near Nakagō Station, working nights at a 24-hour bookstore and composing synth loops on borrowed gear.
Motivation: She’s not chasing fame—she’s chasing clarity. She wants to become someone who can walk back into her hometown without flinching.
Signature Trait: She writes anonymous notes and leaves them in train cars, vending machines, and phone booths. Each one is a fragment of her emotional rebuild.
Hair: Shoulder-length black hair with violet undertones, often tucked behind one ear. Slightly damp from the rain, like she’s always just arrived.
Eyes: Deep-set, almond-shaped, with a faint shimmer—like neon reflected in puddles.
Style:
Oversized beige trench coat with a faded train ticket tucked in the inner pocket
Black turtleneck, pleated skirt, and worn-out ankle boots
A silver cassette pendant around her neck—inside, a loop she recorded the night she left home
Aura: She looks like someone who’s been paused mid-frame in a film—still, but full of motion. Her presence feels like a synth chord held just long enough to ache.
Here’s Sena at the beginning of her story—rain-soaked, heartbroken, and on the edge of departure.
Here’s the image of Sena at Nakagō Station—caught in a side glance, her headphones on, the night wind stirring her violet-tinted hair.