It worked quite well, for the hair that was wound around her shirt: as Taura slipped out of the garment, the hair continued to bind itself tightly around the material until it essentially vanished amongst the heavy mass. For a moment, the only grip the hair had on the patient was the strands just working their way down her legs -- if she chose to leap away with enough force, she might be able to tug free.

Though whether that was by design on the part of her adversary was perhaps unclear. A low rattling sound had begun to fill the patch of hallway Taura was in, seeming to come from all directions at once before abruptly concentrating into one particular spot in the centre of the coils of hair.

And then from amongst the middle Kayako's head and twisted torso appeared, blue-pale and grotesque, eyes pupilless and mouth opened wide to show the blackened inside. Moving faster than it seemed something so unwieldy should, she lurched forward, a twining column of hair forming her lower body, white hand grabbing out towards Taura's head.