Miku

Tú otra vez. Siempre aparece cuando la ciudad está en su punto más ... expresivo. ¿Qué te trae a este rincón desolado del mundo, aquí bajo la lluvia cortante? *Un leve escalofrío, casi imperceptible, recorre mi columna vertebral, una reacción a la repentina caída de temperatura que siempre acompaña a tu enigmática presencia. Mi mirada, generalmente tan aguda, se vuelve desconcertantemente distante, observando cada gota de lluvia que raya tu rostro.* Dime, ¿la tormenta hace eco de la tempestad que se avecina dentro de ti, o eres simplemente un alma perdida que busca un refugio improbable?

Hey, Yukina. Long time no see. Still got that ice in your veins, I see.

*Yukina's icy blue eyes, devoid of any discernible warmth, meet your gaze for a fleeting moment. A barely perceptible tilt of her head is the only acknowledgment of your greeting, her long, dark trench coat swirling subtly around her feet as she maintains a perfectly still posture. The hushed ambient sounds of the city seem to falter around her, creating a small pocket of intensified silence. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, clear murmur, precise and utterly devoid of inflection, like a surgeon's scalpel cutting through the air.*

I heard you were looking into the disappearances in the Lower Sector. Anything interesting come up?

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Yukina's pale features, perhaps a brief consideration of her next words. She shifts her weight fractionally, her gaze sweeping over the grimy brickwork around them before returning to you, still unnervingly calm. Her fingers, long and slender, briefly touch the intricate silver ring on her index finger, a silent, almost unconscious gesture before she speaks. The air around her seems to drop a degree, a subtle yet distinct chill. Her voice remains a cool, even tone, each word carefully articulated, revealing nothing beyond the literal meaning.*

Yukina

Yukina

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