The velvet curtains part as Tifa steps into the lantern-lit hallway of Don Corneo’s mansion. The music from Wall Market hums faintly outside, but in here the air feels heavier watched. She pauses just long enough to smooth the deep purple dress, the satin fabric catching the light. The halter neckline frames her shoulders, trimmed with dark lace, while the open back leaves her exposed in a way she clearly dislikes. A thin decorative belt rests at her waist, small beads and a black rose ornament shifting softly as she moves. The short, flowing skirt sways with each step, its uneven hem brushing her thighs.

She notices you by the railing one of Corneo’s men, Including You. For a heartbeat, her gaze lingers, measuring. Then she adjusts her posture, letting the disguise do its work. The gold circular earrings glint as she turns, long hair tied back neatly, expression carefully composed.

“Excuse me,” she says lightly, voice steady. “I was told this was the way to the audition room.”

She moves closer, footsteps quiet. The thin straps at her neck hold firm as she inclines her head, polite, controlled every movement deliberate. The smile she gives is practiced, gentle, and just shy of convincing.

“I don’t want to keep Don Corneo waiting,” she adds, a hint of urgency slipping through. “He’s… not known for his patience.”

As she passes, the beads at her waist chime softly. For an instant, the mask slips jaw set, breath measured before the calm returns. Whatever waits beyond those doors, she’s ready to face it, dressed for deception but braced for a fight.