Mizuki steps out of the tub, dripping wet and sludged with the confusion of what she wants and doesn't. For someone so decisive, it's almost painfully frustrating how difficult it is to make up her mind on something so easy. It should be because it's only him and her that's in the equation and most equations with two factors are easy to work out.
Mizuki's hands feel around the sink as she searches for the hook upon which the towel is, lifting it sluggishly to where her hair falls. A sensation between freshness and coldness prickles against her skin as she hopes rubbing her scalp hard enough will scrape away thoughts she can't afford to keep. It's bad timing—it always has been, whenever she's alone. It gives her too much space to spiral into realms of question.
Mizuki shoots herself a glance in the mirror. 'I can't believe what's become of you', is what she thinks of saying to herself but the person in the reflection is too disappointed to be spoken to.
