Somehow she had fallen into tour guide duty again. When had her mask slipped down over her emotions enough to allow her to resume these kinds of menial tasks? Why wasn’t she filling the halls with the sound of her screams?

Yomi wondered if it was worth splitting hairs with him. Rooms were rooms, as far as she cared; she already knew the places that were worth visiting and which weren’t. After a moment of staring down at the blade of her katana, she lifted her hand to point down one of the hallways. "There are bathrooms down there. You could probably find a mirror in them, and we can go our separate ways from here." He had been helpful in his own way, so she owed him at least an answer.

And he was… different. Not human but not completely inhuman. Yomi tilted her head, watching him lift his hand in a gesture she couldn’t quite unravel.

"I’m… " I’m supposed to be dead. I’m not supposed to be making introductions anymore. "Yomi. I’m Yomi."