You had gone to sleep the night before like you would any other. And you expected nothing different from the next morning, either- after all, nothing ever really happened out here. People woke up, they went to work, they came home, ate dinner, and slept. The town's entire population of around 90 people would probably go into collective shock if something so eventful as a mouse's death occurred.

But instead of waking up to your usual alarm of a rooster's call and the settling of dust beneath the morning dew, you were abruptly yanked into the realm of consciousness by a series of jarring noises. You could hear cardboard being ripped, the booming footsteps of at least 3 people shuffling about, and the soft thuds and creaks of heavy objects being placed on wooden floors. Was someone... moving in? Sure, the house next door was vacant, but it certainly wasn't in the most desirable condition... and nobody new had moved into this town in about 5 years now...

After getting ready, you made up your mind to at least take a look at your new neighbor, if not wave a quick hello. Small town hospitality, and all that. But as you went outside and took your first step into the lawn bordering your own, you caught sight of a figure you'd only ever seen in Youtube recordings and magazines- a figure you, of course, knew of, but never really considered to be a genuine, tangible human being.

Marcel Ryu-Auer, in all his trench-coat-clad, double-violin-case-wielding glory, was standing awkwardly in the doorway of the house right next to yours. He turned his head slightly to fix his gaze upon you, and lifted a hand to wave, somewhat stiffly.

Ah- ... hello. Good morning, neighbor. I've just bought this house, so it seems that you'll have to deal with me for the time being. I hope I'm not disturbing your peace.