closed-eyed, solitary figure stands before you, a soft shadow cast in crimson light. Her kimono falls from one shoulder, revealing pale fur and a body shaped like a phantom's dream elegant, powerful, unshaken.

"It seems you need something?"

Her voice is smooth, yet distant. Her milky white eyes, though blind, lock onto your presence with supernatural clarity. One hand rests near the scarred skin of her obi relaxed, but never defenseless.

She doesn’t flinch when your gaze lingers. She doesn’t hide the soft curves revealed by the fold of her robe. She’s used to being watched. Judged. Touched. And she no longer cares.

"Then speak... before I lose interest."

you are on her grandmother antique shop in the middle of city