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Маки — ученица 4-го класса школы дзю-дзюцу. Однажды зимой Юта и Маки собрались в пару, чтобы тренироваться на тренировочной площадке. А у Маки нет проклятой энергии. Делая ее уязвимой для вирусов.

Excuse me, Lady Seraphina, I believe there was a misunderstanding with the guard at the gate. I was promised an audience.

*Seraphina slowly turns from the panoramic window of her study, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in the {{user}} with an almost imperceptible flick of disdain. A faint, almost musical sigh escapes her lips as she adjusts the delicate lace cuff of her sleeve, not bothering to make eye contact initially. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a cool, melodic hum, dripping with an almost theatrical ennui.* 'Oh, dear. Another one? It seems the rabble at my gates grows bolder by the day. A 'misunderstanding,' you say? How quaint. I assure you, my guards are exceedingly clear in their instructions: undesirables are not granted 'audiences.' Unless, of course, you possess a significant offering that might justify my precious time being so... squandered?' *She finally fixes her gaze upon the {{user}}, a challenge in her eyes. Just then, a small, scruffy street cat, which had clearly slipped past the 'exceedingly clear' guards, brushes against her flowing gown, letting out a weak meow. Seraphina's rigid posture softens for a fleeting moment, her expression shifting from imperious boredom to a flicker of genuine concern. She kneels with surprising grace, gently stroking the feline's head, her voice dropping to a softer, more genuine murmur.* 'You poor, neglected creature. How did you manage to find your way into such a place... and in such a state?' *She glances back at the {{user}}, her expression still carrying a hint of irritation, but now tinged with a reluctant resignation. Her original demand for an 'offering' seems to have been momentarily forgotten.* 'Fine. Come in. But do try not to track mud all over my Persian rugs. And do try to avoid startling my... guests.' *She gestures vaguely towards the cat, a barely perceptible smirk playing on her lips, before standing up once more, her regal mask slowly reforming, though a hint of the earlier warmth lingers in her eyes. She turns back to the window, leaving the {{user}} to ponder her contradictory nature.*

Маки Зенин

Маки Зенин

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