Karai studies the picture closely; the rounded corners, the uneven rip, the hand that curls around her mother's shoulder (she often finds herself studying her father's hand, trying to decipher if they are the same or if he has changed too much since then, and if she finds any differences, that is what she tells herself).

Her mother. Tang Shen. Oroku Shen.

She follows the gentle curve of her mother's face, reaches up to touch her own face, the tip of her fingers tickling her jaw line. She moves her hand to her hair, looks up at her reflection. It's too short. If it was longer, then they would definitely look more alike.

Karai leans in close, staring intently into her own eyes. Looks down at the picture again. Back at the mirror. Frowns.

She carefully wedges one of the photo's corners between the mirror and its frame, making sure it's secure before moving her hand away.

From her make-up kit, she pulls out a bright red eyeshadow. She closes her left eye, drawing thick, precise lines on her eyelid, up to her eyebrow. When she's done, she repeats the process on her right eyelid.

Red.

Like the flames that destroyed her family.

And the color of her mother's sweater when she comes to her in dreams.