Noir Resurfaces

"Nicely said, Ciara..." A voice sounded.

The figure approached, slightly illuminated by the shattered pieces of orange light that descended from the broken barrier.

Finally, his face was seen, Noir had arrived.

"... He really should go to hell."

Ciara's eyes bulged, and her body trembled at the sound she heard. It was no mistake.

As her face turned, she took in the familiar presence, his scent... the cool aura he gave off, and finally, her eyes met his.

In her pathetic, disheveled state, she looked at him.

As usual, he had a stoic look on his face, and his black hair waved back and forth due to the late-night breeze. His eyes gave off an empty feeling, though this time it hinted something else.

"N-Noir...?" Ciara managed to say, feeling a lump in her throat.

He smiled, nodding his head slightly.

"It's been a while, Ciara. You've been doing well..." He whispered.