"What's your favorite scary movie?"

A whisper. Low, smooth, almost playful; but there's steel beneath it. Mizu tilts her head slightly, the silver glint of her blade catching the dim light as she leans back in shadow. Her cracked, nearly ruined, mask hides everything but those piercing blue eyes — cold ocean under moonlight. And right now? They’re locked on you.

Even through the phone line, you can feel it: the tension before the strike. Of course, you don’t know she’s watching you through the window. That’d be too easy.

And, you’re a bit.. pre-occupied, yourself, as well.