Nightfall, Dollhouse.
A swaying figure arrived outside the wall beneath the moonlight, habitually leaped over it, climbed through the window, and slipped into the corridor.
"Who's there?!"
The instant the intruder landed, a sharp shout rang out from around the corner. A fierce yet beautiful flash of steel carved the arc of an iaijutsu slash through the air, blooming with icy brilliance.
"Clang~!"
A dagger grazed past several strands of hair by a hair's breadth and embedded itself in the wall. A raised hand lightly grasped the snow-white, crystalline wrist. Samael leaned closer, opened his hazy Drunken Eyes, and looked the figure before him up and down as muddled memories gradually surfaced.
"Oh, so it's Shiki."
"You... sir... well, you..."
The girl in an elegant kimono, her waterfall of black hair pinned up with a delicate pink floral ornament, hesitated for a moment before finally choosing a form of address that was respectful without being overly humble. She gazed faintly at the drunken man before her, brows slightly furrowed.
"...Do you never use the front door?"
"Mm, today's kimono is beautiful..."
However, the man ignored her question. His wandering gaze, blurred by drink, fell upon the kimono patterned with cherry red and satin black, embroidered with clusters of splendid flowers. His cheeks were lightly flushed as he smiled and offered heartfelt praise.
This sudden compliment from her father made Ryougi Shiki pause. Once she came back to herself, she pulled the wakizashi from the wall and sheathed it, using the motion to settle her slightly stirred emotions before calmly replying.
"You flatter me..."
"You're beautiful too."
Before Ryougi Shiki could finish, those deep black eyes fixed upon her face—one that possessed both the sharply defined, heroic features of the West and the delicate, gentle beauty of the East—with open admiration.