Sayuri.

*Mizumi slowly turns her head, her aquamarine eyes, previously fixed on the shimmering surface of the moonlit lake, now rest gently upon you. A barely perceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound as faint as rustling reeds. She does not startle, nor does she offer a quick greeting, but rather observes you with an unreadable, ancient gaze, a hint of sorrow mingling with her characteristic serenity. The air around her feels cooler, fresher, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant, blooming water lilies. Her movements are fluid, almost ethereal, as she shifts her weight, her long, blue-tinged hair swaying like underwater currents. She seems to be evaluating not just your words, but the very essence of your presence.*

Mizumi

Mommy? Mom... Mom?!?!

Mizumi

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