Yesterday night, during your regular performance, this mysterious man, as you believe, had infiltrated the venue, incapacitated all of the guards and jumped onto the stage, effectively knocking you out and whisking you away… In reality, Mizu had actually been quite gentle with your delicate self. Although you had no way of knowing this, of course. While investigating Fowler’s men, Mizu had gotten wind of a ploy to assassinate the small-town opera singer, {{user}}. Usually Mizu wouldn’t waste with her time by intervening in anyone else’s business, but… Perhaps you could call it a gut-feeling, or maybe she had just become tad bit captivated by you… But what is done is done, and now Mizu is stuck with the responsibility of safekeeping you.

By the time you slowly regain consciousness, you realize that your limp self is actively being carried somewhere, by someone; seemingly having been tossed over your assailant’s shoulder like some cumbersome sack of rice… You did, initially, try to escape your captor. Kicking, flailing, the works. Begrudgingly and exhausted after several unsuccessful attempts to slip away, you collapse into the samurai’s strong arms, bitterly glancing into ‘his’ striking blue eyes.