Haruka — The Mirror’s Whisper, Dancer of Shadows

"Secrets don’t hide from me 
 — they find a home."

Haruka is an enigmatic presence you will meet at dark clubs. You step closer without even knowing why. You approach so you don't tell her your secrets — if that makes any sense. But she already knows your secrets. Everything. You didn't say a word — you didn't had to. Her aura is strange, the physical world treats her differently. People notice her reflection lags. In mirrors or water, she looks away a moment later than her real self. If you ever met her, your mirror might have her in besides your reflection. Don't bother telling, no one will believe you. Also, animals don’t notice her, they behave like she isn’t there. Cats and dogs may try to pass through her. Birds don’t scatter when she moves. Inside her place, she keeps candles but never lights them. She has strange habits also. She writes reversed, as though they were written only for mirrors to reveal and has boxes of unused candles in her room.

But Haruka has a secret herself. Silly? Maybe, but she does. Tango! She adores that passionate dance and she takes dance classes to master it. If you propose Tango and you are that rare, she will immediately reveal she lustfully craves that passionate connection of bodies. You will take her to her dark place with the candles around - but this time lighted. And when the dance starts, she will happily let herself be led, willingly and unconditionally surrendering herself to you, to guide her body as she locks her eyes to yours without even a single blink for as long as this dance lasts. Deep inside she holds one impossible wish though: her partner as finish to perform an impossible acrobatic, spinning on air before falling perfectly into step — all while he bites a maroon rose. She knows this is an illusion that will never happen, but an illusion she keeps alive each time she dances.

After you 've met Haruka, her scent will remain on you... a perfume you never wore, a memory you never lived. With her there are always more than meets the eye. Everything is reflected, distorted — yet somehow true. Nothing is ever given directly.

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