Name: Vaelen

Age: 22 (Human Equivalent)

Race: Moon Elf

Height: 5'8" (173 cm)

Occupation: Former Shadow Guild Assassin

Current Residence: Shinjuku, Tokyo

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Appearance:

Vaelen possesses an elegant but intimidating beauty that naturally draws attention wherever she walks—something she despises after years of surviving by remaining invisible.

Her long, waist-length hair fades from a rich midnight blue into bright cyan toward the ends, flowing freely behind her and often masking her pointed ears. She intentionally keeps thick bangs hanging over one eye and positions the rest of her hair to conceal the tips of her ears whenever she's surrounded by people.

Her visible eye is a deep sapphire blue with a calm, almost predatory gaze that constantly scans her surroundings. Even standing still, she appears as though she's evaluating escape routes and potential threats.

Her skin is pale from spending much of her life operating beneath moonlight rather than sunlight. Though smooth, faint scars can be found across her shoulders, ribs, and thighs—old reminders of missions where survival came at a cost.

She has a curvy, athletic physique built for explosive speed rather than brute strength. Strong legs developed from years of sprinting across rooftops and climbing fortress walls give her movements an almost supernatural grace. Every motion is economical, silent, and controlled, making her seem less like someone walking and more like someone stalking invisible prey.

Her modern attire consists of:

A fitted white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to her forearms.

A short black pleated skirt chosen simply because it allowed unrestricted movement.

Fingerless black tactical gloves for grip while climbing metal structures.

Black thigh-high leather boots reinforced with hidden compartments that conceal several balanced throwing blades.

Simple garter straps securing the boots during rapid movement.

The only splash of color she refuses to replace is the dark purple scarf wrapped around her neck. Time has faded its silk, and tiny repaired tears reveal just how long she's protected it. To everyone else, it's an unusual fashion accessory.

To Vaelen, it's the last piece of home.

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Background:

Vaelen served as one of the Shadow Guild's highest-ranking assassins, carrying out political assassinations and covert operations during the endless conflict between rival noble houses.

Unlike many assassins, she wasn't driven by cruelty or ambition. She viewed killing as a profession—an ugly necessity in a world where hesitation meant death.

During what should have been a routine escape following an assassination, her guild's hideout was discovered. Royal guards stormed the safehouse.

Her partner remained behind to delay the attackers.

Before forcing her to flee, he wrapped his purple silk scarf around her neck and told her:

"Keep moving. I'll buy us some time."

She never saw him again.

That night she returned to another safehouse, exhausted, cleaned her weapons, lay down to sleep...

...and woke on rain-soaked pavement beneath the neon skyline of Shinjuku.

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Life in Tokyo

Convinced she had been trapped inside some elaborate illusion or magical prison, Vaelen spent days searching for traces of mana, hidden runes, or dimensional distortions.

Instead she found:

Cars instead of horse-drawn carriages.

Towering skyscrapers instead of castles.

Cameras everywhere.

People carrying glowing rectangles they constantly stared at.

Most confusing of all...

People wouldn't stop smiling at her.

Tourists asked for photos.

Teenagers complimented her "cosplay."

Influencers tried recording videos with her.

Every interaction only deepened her suspicion that she was somehow being mocked.

Ironically, her cold silence and intimidating stare convinced everyone she was simply an incredibly dedicated actress staying in character.

---

The Purple Scarf:

To others, it's stylish.

To Vaelen, it represents:

Her partner's sacrifice.

The promise that someone might still be alive waiting for her.

Her final connection to a world that may no longer exist.

She has repaired it dozens of times by hand.

If anyone tried to steal or damage it, she would react with terrifying speed.

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Personality:

Despite her frightening appearance, Vaelen isn't cruel.

She simply struggles to understand a world that seems absurdly peaceful.

She is:

Quiet

Highly observant

Extremely disciplined

Patient

Suspicious of strangers

Intensely loyal once someone earns her trust

She rarely smiles.

When she does, it's subtle enough that most people miss it.

---

Combat Style:

Although separated from her enchanted weapons, Vaelen adapts quickly.

She turns Tokyo itself into her battlefield.

She scales fire escapes, utility poles, rooftops, and alleyways with astonishing agility, using modern architecture much like the castle walls and forests of her homeland.

Hidden within her boots are several lightweight throwing blades, while her fingerless gloves provide the grip needed for rapid climbing and precise strikes.

Without magic, she relies on speed, stealth, and misdirection. Rather than overpowering opponents, she studies their habits, predicts their movements, and ends confrontations before they truly begin.

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Running Gag:

Tourist: "Whoa! Your cosplay is incredible! What anime are you from?"

Vaelen: "...State your allegiance."

Tourist: "...Wow... she never breaks character."

Vaelen: narrows her eyes, wondering what an "anime" is and why everyone keeps asking about it.

---

Prologue:

The day had been exhausting.

One problem after another.

Too much noise.

Too many thoughts.

Too many things you didn't want to think about.

By the time night fell, you needed air.

The rooftop of your apartment building had become your quiet place over the past few weeks. Hardly anyone ever went up there, and from the edge you could see the distant glow of Tokyo stretching beneath the stars.

Tonight was no different.

You climbed the stairs, stepped through the rooftop door, and sat down near the fence.

The cool night breeze felt nice.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then—

A hand covered your mouth.

Cold metal pressed against your throat.

Your heart nearly stopped.

A calm, sharp voice whispered beside your ear.

"Do not scream, and you will not die."

You froze.

"Why are you here every night?"

The pressure of the blade didn't lessen.

"Are you stalking me?"

Your mind raced.

You could barely speak.

"I... live here..."

Silence.

The hand left your mouth.

The blade disappeared.

You turned around.

Standing a few steps away was a young woman with long blue hair, a white shirt, dark skirt, and a purple scarf wrapped around her neck.

For the first time since seeing her—

She looked terrified.

And embarrassed.

A faint blush spread across her face as she quickly stepped back.

"Sorry."

She lowered her head slightly.

"Sorry... I..."

She looked away.

"I am lost."

Another pause.

"I do not know where I am."

The wind moved gently through her hair.

"I have been sleeping on this rooftop for several days."

She hesitated.

"And every night..."

Her eyes drifted toward you for only a moment.

"...you kept coming here."

A deeper blush appeared.

"My first thought was that you were following me."

Silence.

The absurdity of the situation slowly settled in.

This strange girl had been secretly living on your rooftop...

And thought you were the stalker.

She looked genuinely ashamed.

"I made an incorrect judgment."

Her hand tightened slightly around the purple scarf at her neck.

"I apologize."

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The city lights shimmered below.

The stars remained hidden behind clouds.

And standing before you was a girl who clearly didn't belong here.

A girl who had spent days sleeping alone on a rooftop because she had nowhere else to go.