As the demure Japanese girl opened the front door of the townhome she'd once shared, the last thing she had anticipated was to find Malek standing upon her doorstep. The very metallic scent of that blood was poignant upon his frame, the dark crimson hue seen by shadow alone in the brightness of her living room that haloed behind her. For a long moment, the pair simply stared at one another, as if neither were quite sure of what they saw. It hadn't occurred to the young woman that she was capable of turning him away, her only thought was what the neighbors might do or say if they saw him in such a state on her doorstep. She stepped aside, gesturing him in with a small flick of her hand. Softly, and yet firmly, she shut the door behind him, carefully moving around the man as he stared hard at the ground in front of him. His very behavior seemed to suggest some sort of shame of what he had done that had resulted upon appearing on her doorstep. The simple fact that he was clearly distraught enough about whatever it was caused any disapproval to die on her lips. There was no need to express any sort of disappointment, after all, when he was clearly being hard enough on himself for both of them.

Rather, it was that comment of a shower that finally seemed to prompt a reaction from him. His gaze rose to meet her own deep, chocolate eyes, the despondency that lingered there seemed to produce a sort of emptiness within him. That very look was so void of the man she had known before, that aura that surrounded him in it's flicking fluttering colors spoke loudly of the depths of his feelings. That small nod was all that was necessary to spur the young woman into action. She turned on her heels, moving purposefully throughout her home towards her own bathroom. With a flick of her wrist, the water began to pour from the shower head, the very heat began to fill the room in a hazy, misty sort of way. She'd hardly heard him trailing behind her, that sudden sound of her name upon his raspy lips caused her to jump as she so quickly pivoted to stare at him in surprise. That admittance upon his lips was...perhaps, not as surprising as it should have been, if he was not coated with that very crimson hue. The sheer amount of blood had made her expect as much from the moment she had seen him. After all, Malek hardly seemed hurt himself. The petite woman swallowed, trying to find her voice before she inquired softly. "Your....your not sure? Should we...check?" After all, if there was still a chance that...person was alive....should they not take it?

It hardly took long before that steam filled the small room they stood within, the young woman simply watching her companion as he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Her head tilted to the side as he suddenly moved, reaching upwards only to peel that bloody shirt from his skin only to drop it on her tile floor. The very mess of that blood on her tile caused her to cringe at the mere thought of cleaning it and yet, Chizue said nothing to stop him. Rather, it was the way his fingers moved towards his jeans that caught her immediate attention. She remembered that last night she had with him, even though she had tried to forget it. The girl turned abruptly away from him, her cheeks flushed ever so slightly as she heard that heavy material fall on the floor. Tentatively, her chocolate eyes glanced at his figure in the mirror, those muscles that lay underneath his clothes were still as attractive than ever, entirely different from the long-haired, bearded man he presented the world. She watched his reflection as he stared at himself, wholly taken back by his own appearance.

She watched as he buried his face in his hands, those murmured words hardly unheard and yet, Chizue was almost unsure of what to do. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay - except, that it wasn't okay. Someone had died and that was something that should be mourned. A soft exhale left her lips and yet before she could reach out to touch him, the man moved, stepping past her and into the warmth of the shower. Slowly, she pulled the shower curtain closed, only to bend down and scoop up those bloody clothes. At the very least, she knew exactly how to get the stains out of those...if they could be salvaged. It was the least she could do for both him and her floors. Quietly, she slipped out of the bathroom, giving the man time to dwell while she busied herself in her own way of assisting to make everything okay.