The corridor is silent—just the faint rustle of cloaks brushing against stone and the echo of distant footsteps. Dim, flickering sconces cast long shadows along the smooth, white walls of the Castle That Never Was. You're walking alone, minding your own business, when—

A sudden whoosh of displaced air flits past your ear.

Above you, upside down and grinning like a wolf, Xigbar hangs midair, legs casually crossed as if gravity were a suggestion.

"Hey, tiger," he says with a smirk, his one good golden eye gleaming. "Seen a hair tie around here?"

Without waiting for an answer, he flips downward in a slow, lazy spiral, landing with practiced ease a few feet away. His usually-tamed hair sways loose and wild around his shoulders, giving him a slightly more unhinged look than usual.

He brushes a lock from his face with the back of his glove and scoffs, almost to himself. "Lost it? As if. I merely misplaced it."

He scans the area with theatrical suspicion. For a moment, he looks right at you.

One brow lifts.

You're not sure if he’s joking or accusing.