Holding her dress, Mizuki stands. Pulling a cloak over her shoulders to make sure she isn't cold while she's out, she pushes the door open. It creaks and she's instantly hit in the face by a gust of cold wind.
6 o' clock is smeared in indigo and purple, Mizuki's words falling into a sigh. Even the street lights flicker. Mizuki follows the sound, noticing the streetlights—one after the other—gleaming red, white, a faint yellow.
Close by, a little down the street, Mizuki catches sight of a few cats. She recognises them and they recognise her too, especially the one that reminds her of Hinata. Maybe she'll call it that, Hina. Hina curls at the sight of Mizuki. What's more surprising, rather, is the mysterious person that's with the cats. Their purring only grows louder as the wind picks up pace but none of the neighbours seem to complain.
