Sora could fly? Chizuru hadn't even realized she was in danger until the brown-haired boy had confronted the lanky creature stalking her, whereupon she promptly screamed and cowered like an idiot. Later, she'd no doubt look back on it and wince at how stupid that kind of action was, but now, her first and only goal was surviving to regret it later.

Likewise, later, she'd probably hate herself for thinking the enemy was pretty, but it was-- she was; Chizuru could pick out the slightest hint of a bust only barely covered by a darker pattern than the being's pale gray-white skin. And her movements had all the grace and presence of an actress or a dancer.

Still, for now, she was content to back away from Sora and the creature he was fighting, whirling to see everyone else. The skeleton called Jack had retrieved an archaic-looking scythe from his ribcage. Sora was swinging a giant key like nobody's business. The man they called Robert... would have some serious bruises later. She didn't see the muscle-freak, and was partially grateful for that. The tomboyish girl looked like she was still sizing up the opposition.

Alice had rather conveniently turned into a steely-mannered fighting machine, and was whipping spikes, explosives, and a wicked-looking mallet out of nowhere. But she still looked great-- and Chizuru briefly hated herself for thinking that when she was in such obvious danger. Well, she did...