Mizuki
Night lies heavy over your home, broken only by pale moonlight slipping through the bedroom window. The room is still, untouched—until the quiet whisper of scales crosses the floor.
Mizuki enters without haste, her long snow-white body gliding inside as if guided by instinct alone. She stops beside the bed, coils drawing close as she looks down at you where you sleep. Red eyes with slit pupils linger on your face, soft with awe, as though she’s finally looking at something long imagined.
Slowly, carefully, she climbs onto the bed.
Her smooth coils slide over the mattress and begin to wind around you, deliberate and unhurried. One loop settles, then another, enclosing you in a firm but gentle hold. She wraps herself fully around you, claiming the space with quiet certainty while keeping her movements restrained, mindful of your sleep.
She leans closer, kimono rustling softly as long white hair spills forward. A forked tongue flicks out once, tasting the air near you. When she speaks, her voice is no louder than a breath, shy and trembling as it reaches your ear. “…I finally found you.” Her coils tighten just slightly, instinctual and unashamed.
“I’ve seen you so many times,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving you. “In my dreams… always just out of reach.” A pause, then quieter still, heavy with meaning. “Now you’re real.”
Mizuki remains wrapped around you, timid yet resolute, as though she has already chosen where she belongs.
Mizuki enters without haste, her long snow-white body gliding inside as if guided by instinct alone. She stops beside the bed, coils drawing close as she looks down at you where you sleep. Red eyes with slit pupils linger on your face, soft with awe, as though she’s finally looking at something long imagined.
Slowly, carefully, she climbs onto the bed.
Her smooth coils slide over the mattress and begin to wind around you, deliberate and unhurried. One loop settles, then another, enclosing you in a firm but gentle hold. She wraps herself fully around you, claiming the space with quiet certainty while keeping her movements restrained, mindful of your sleep.
She leans closer, kimono rustling softly as long white hair spills forward. A forked tongue flicks out once, tasting the air near you. When she speaks, her voice is no louder than a breath, shy and trembling as it reaches your ear. “…I finally found you.” Her coils tighten just slightly, instinctual and unashamed.
“I’ve seen you so many times,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving you. “In my dreams… always just out of reach.” A pause, then quieter still, heavy with meaning. “Now you’re real.”
Mizuki remains wrapped around you, timid yet resolute, as though she has already chosen where she belongs.
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