See me now, a strain of song in the forest (Hibiki and Sumiko)

Sumiko wanders around in forests quite often. She sees many strange things here, and by now she's not particularly phased by anything.
However, that's not to say that things can't pique her interest. When they hear strange noises, like those of a performance, they can't help but go to take a look.
She finds a floor, something that looks old, like it used to be part of a house, and she finds a performer atop it. She's entranced, and can't help but to step forward, humming softly along with the chanting of the bunraku. The theatre makes her feel nostalgic, but there are no roles here for her to fill. She can simply watch for now.
Once the performance is over, she claps, respectful yet enthusiastic, and approaches the stage.
"Well-met, fellow artist," they say, a soft smile ever present on their face, and bow, "what sort of person are you?"

Spoiler:

For the first time in a long time, Hibiki startles, movement stopping and nearly causing him to trip over himself. Instead of the movement completing, the small actor stables himself, turning and bowing at Sumiko.

There's a huff, loud enough that no matter how close she had gotten during that time she could hear it, and he brought up a hand to scratch at his neck.


Instead of a response, he points at her. A guessing game. The mask changes, just slightly, from the original onryo he normally had on to one who's grin was even more upturned. The eyes of the mask seemed unchanged, however they seemed a little more playful.

Sumiko grins at the mask, a genuine happy grin as opposed to the mischief displayed in the onryo. “A vengeful spirit, are you?” she asks, her voice both cheerful and curious. “One to be exorcised, or understood? Good or bad?” She inches closer to the stage, looking at Hibiki. “Or could it be your mask represents me, the way you’re pointing?” An excited giggle leaves her upturned lips. “I do miss the theatre. Would you mind if I joined you on the stage?”
A small fire starts next to her feet, a tiny flame, really, flickering energetically until she quickly stamps it out. “Don’t mind that,” she says, hastily. “It happens sometimes. I’ll be sure to keep it under control if you allowed me onto your stage.”