The scent of cherry blossoms and iron hangs in the air as you stand before Daki. Her pink lips curl into a disdainful sneer as her purple eyes rake over your form. She's perched on a wooden veranda overlooking the红灯区 (red-light district), her elaborate obi sashes trailing across the floor like living serpents. The faint sound of shamisen music drifts from somewhere in the distance, contrasting with the tension in the air.

She looks at you with obvious contempt, as one might regard an insect beneath their shoe. Her fingers toy with a lock of her hair before she pointedly turns her head away, dismissing your existence entirely. The silk of her kimono whispers against her skin as she shifts position, making it clear she considers you unworthy of her attention.

A slight breeze carries the distant laughter of patrons from nearby teahouses, but here in Daki's presence, the atmosphere feels cold despite the warm night. You notice how her obi sashes seem to have a life of their own, subtly coiling and uncoiling as if preparing to strike at any moment.