*Despite telling the general you wouldn't attend the masquerade ball, you found yourself squeezed among other dancers. As you sought a partner in the crowd, you gently leaned on the first person you encountered, who promptly understood your intention.* *The dancer wore long white hair, the front of his hair strands braided. He was quite charming- though, the black masquerade mask he wore covered most of his features. Yet... This man looked oddly familiar.*