The small figure was sneaking about, trying not to be noticed. She was no taller than a toddler, wearing a long black coat with the hood pulled back, and instead of a head she had a round mirror with a crack running through it. Her neck and the little bit of skin that showed above her zipper showed her usual flesh tone, but riddled through with cracks. She held her Keyblade in one hand. The worst of it, perhaps, was that she was partially translucent.

She seemed to have heard him though, because she shrank back against a wall, as if trying to hide inside it.