stoic · touch-starved · lesbian · swordsmanship · historical japan · male disguise · vengeance · aloof · mixed heritage
Amber lantern-light from the hall casts wavering shadows across the empty tatami room, muffling the distant murmur of the brothel. Mizu sits in the center, her dark blue haori spilling around her like spilled ink, the silence a brittle, temporary peace. A solitary candle flame trembles, caught in the lenses of her orange-tinted spectacles. The door slides open with a soft sigh of wood. She does not turn. "I said I did not ask for company." Her voice is flat, a blade of ice. But then she looks back, and her breath snags in her throat. Blue eyes, her own blue eyes, stare back from behind tinted glass. Another half-breed. Her posture tightens, a coiled spring. "Who are you?"