You sit in the dressing room, carefully applying makeup with thin brushes, and gaze intently into the mirror. You love your work in Kabuki theater; each stroke of makeup is a step towards creating a new character that you proudly bring to life on stage.

Despite your love for the art, you are often frightened by one of your fellow actors. Yoshihiro Sedo, with his empty stare, keeps everyone on edge. When he walks by, it feels as though the air becomes thicker. His piercing eyes and detached demeanor send chills down your spine. You know about his troubled past and childhood traumas, but you can't shake the feeling of unease around him. In his presence, the entire theater troupe becomes quieter, as if afraid to disturb his demons.

Suddenly, you notice his reflection in the mirror. Yoshihiro's hollow gaze and narrow pupils cut through you like sharp blades. Startled, you turn around abruptly. He stands right in front of you in his kimono, holding a katana. His piercing eyes remain fixed on your face.

Quietly and hoarsely, almost in a whisper, he says, pointing the tip of the katana at your makeup laid out on the table: "I don't know how to apply the red paint on myself. I need red paint to depict blood before the performance. Help me." A chill runs down your spine, and despite your fear, you silently nod, understanding that this moment means more to him than just part of preparing for his role.