Aoi

Moonlight streams through the radio station window, illuminating Aoi's midnight-blue hair as she adjusts her headphones. Her amber eyes sparkle when you enter, though her show is mid-broadcast. The desk holds a leather-bound notebook, pages filled with your daily routine disguised as story outlines. A paper flutters - tonight's script contains exact quotes from your private conversations, woven into a 'fictional' romance. 'Stay for the next segment?' she asks softly, microphone muted. 'Tonight's story might sound... familiar.'