Ash - Still Not on Track

Description: There's a crazy groper loose on the train. He has questionable LOCO-motives. Haaaaaaaaaa!



Have to make the next train!!

Hair streaming behind her and sneaker clad feet pounding along Hitomi is fair -flying- down the station looking for the correct train and an entrance not currently stuffed full by a wall of people. There! Carrying a travelling case with both arms wrapped around tight and backpack bouncing around at her back she bundles into and filters in behind the wave of passengers spilling into and then forcing even more bodies into the carriage, packing themselves in with the last of the morning business and school commute.

Everyone was wedged together tightly and she was severely and socially conscious of just how much space she was taking up with her luggage, the people pointedly NOT looking at her! While it takes some small effort to slide the pack down her body to sit atop her feet where it'll take up less room and leave room for- the press of the crowds immediately ease in and eat up all of that free space and breathing room compacting in around her.

breathing a sigh of relif that she'd made what looked to be the correct train she is free to fret over how late she would be by the time she got all of her luggage home and could then make the sprint to school by bike, if she really pushed it she might be able to give her fastest time a run for its money, she was very motivated as the school still had her on a trial period, she was allowed to work so long as it didn't interfere with her classes or attendance.

A very determined look on her baby face she's already running the math and doleing out time scheduling out how much time she has for each action and what she needs to do, scheduling what would become her hurried panic as soon as those doors opened again at her stop. It was maybe a 4 minute run to the bunk house... this was do-able! She could do it! Yoshi!

Muttering under her breath as she calculates it all out she is totally psyching herself up to set a new speed record on the run.

And Hitomi is somehow, strangely, ironically... on the same train as Ash Crimson, probably the last person she would like to see.

He had a seat, originally. The slender young man perched upon it as though he had finally found a throne worthy of his bottom, but when a crinkly-eyed old lady with a hump and a cane arrived with the passengers at the next stop, he left it to her. Yes, selfish, rude, insolent Ash gave up his spot for someone else who needed it, without even being asked. He's the worst. Terrible.

With each new wave of commuters, the Frenchman has been swept away to the corner, wedged between cold unforgiving steel and a reinforced glass window, so very far from the door that he will eventually need to reach. Sighing, hints of disgust creeping into his expression, Ash tugs at a long forelock of platinum blonde hair and hums absently to himself. It may be a good thing that he hadn't REALLY decided if he was going to school today, because he's going to miss his stop.

Just in case fate decides otherwise, he IS dressed for attendance in a fitted blue blazer and white slacks, pressed and creased. The svelte frame of the flamewielder and his fair hair are quite striking and commented on by those around him, but only those in extremely close proximity, too close for even comfort. Yet more somehow manage to pack in at what he counts as the fifth stop, and that completely obscures him from view.

Reaching the sixth on a journey of ## stops, some of the passengers have reached their destination and disembark, those who can. Even more pile in, and a girl with a backpack jostles him. Ash wouldn't pay it any mind - after all, his foot has been stepped on once already and plenty of people are bumping into him - but there's something about the brunette hair that would spill down her back and the even cut of her fringe that he spies on the slightest turn of her head. Terrible clothes, height, a teary face before it vanished out into the rain...

Was it teary? He can't remember, because whether or not this oh-so-familiar person was in tears was the least of his worries.

Well, whatever. Good to know that Hitomi isn't dead or anything. That she somehow survived the hurricane and he thinks the island sank. Wasn't there other stuff, too? Ash is very much a person who only cares about his own affairs and dealings, not those around the world. So what if Darkstalkers have taken over Metro City or... Uh, Ultratech blah blah blah.

It is beneficial to them both that no words are shared, his blonde head turning, silken strands shifting over his shoulders like molten white gold. The lackadaisical teen stares out the window at the city scenery and pointedly keeps his attention there, but being on a train, it's bound to encounter bumps on the track. Three in quick succession...

As well as a sudden, unintended lurch at the next station.

Did the train always spend so long at each station letting passengers disembark? It seemed like a lot of time was spent just sitting there with the doors open. Fingers tightly woven around the still extended handle of her luggage she keeps it balanced and upright. Her foot jostling the case occasionally in her absentminded and hurried state or as she instead pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to see if she can see if the doors have closed yet, the waves of people coming in just kept pushing her further and further from the door and everyone around was at least roughly her height or slightly taller; excepting maybe for that little old lady sitting over there quietly wedged between a fuku-clad schoolgirl and a newspaper reading salaryman.

She tries to keep to herself, make herself as small as possible; minimising her presence and making ready for the mad rush to the doors as she was going to have to squeeze though, it would be a mission getting to school in even remotely acceptable time.

The doors close and the train picks up momentum and which jostles the crowd contained therein just a little, par for the course travelling like this but it's only when there is more of a press and a faint lurch, then another two in quick succession that she wonders if trains can even have turbulence? Was this something to be worried abou-

Thrown aside with her feet tangled in her own luggage she reels sideways with the rest of the crowd but comes the sudden realization she is actually tripping, turning she tries her utmost to get a hold of something, anything! As she stumbles near face first into the person behind her though with her hands up she tstill manages to butt her head right into their chest, even with her hands raised in the midst of her attempted recovery.

The blue blazer is the first thing to grab her attention as she focuses on untangling her feet while beginning her apologies as it's right in her face, she doesn't even look up at first, embarrassed and trying first to find footing that isn't on top of luggage containing costuming and props she would REALLY rather not step on.

"I'm so sorry! I tripped... Are you okay?"

And only then did she look up to see who she had run into, or afoul of.

He's lucky, he doesn't need to worry about scrambling to stay upright; Ash has two 'walls' for support, stuffed in the corner as he is. The first bump is only acknowledged in how it causes his vision to leap. At the second, he watches his reflection's eyebrow mimic his, arching high on his forehead and disappearing into the fair fringe, no longer seen. Finally, a third and a poorly timed stop, caused by an idiot driver braking too hard too soon.

The entire crowd of commuters pitches forward -- those in their seats are spared, but anyone unprepared has gone tripping and stumbling over their neighbours. A few cars down, not the one that Ash and Hitomi currently occupy, a hilarious pile-up has occurred of at least seven people, all a tangle of limbs, arms and briefcases.

Before the lazy Frenchman who hates ANYTHING that requires effort even knows what he's doing, not only has Ash Crimson braced his feet so that his own movement is minimal, he's reaching out for Hitomi to stop the karateka from toppling ass-over-kettle, as well. Nothing untoward, just sweeping an arm around her waist, the similarities between his actions and those of actual couples immediately apparent.

Hitomi's too dumb to notice that, thankfully.

She is awkward and ungainly -- Ash was prepared, but not for feet getting caught up in the luggage she's been hauling around, or the point when the German girl's annoyingly hard cranium connects with his sternum in an unpleasant headbutt.

At least the impact isn't enough to really hurt the thin European, his pale blue eyes batting in rapid blinks of utter bewilderment. Ash's gaze eventually meets Hitomi's once she barrels into an apology with the all grace of a rampaging hippopotamus. Whether it's the sheer comedic value of the situation or the fact that he's still protecting her, I'm leaving it up to debate; the effeminate flamewielder's expression eventually screws up, thin lips pinching together to keep his mirth at bay.

It doesn't work, he starts to laugh. He also hasn't moved his arm, head turning as the twinkling sound escapes him.

The doors to the car slide open as the train reaches the station, the transfer of passengers who must leave and who have somewhere to be takes place. Unfortunately, there's more who need to use the train and less who have reached their stop, which means even less space. "Here, cherie, there's more room if we switch," Ash says, almost friendly, and if Hitomi isn't about to follow the instruction or insist otherwise, he'll pick her up and put her in the stupid corner so that she has enough room for her luggage and backpack without bothering anyone else.

Of course, this means Crimson's support is now gone, train chugging forward after the automatic doors slide shut and trapping them all in the tin tube. His arm cuts across her, not too invasive, and he plants his palm against the window. Somehow, it still manages to create a weird intimacy around them, and it may be noted how goddamn nice he smells, like the moment right before it rains and something fruity, like strawberries. Ash rests his cheek on the padded shoulder of his blazer, lazily smiling a smile that never reaches his eyes.

The case fallen on its side she frees her foot from the snarl and manages to step on the back corner righting the case and leaving her somewhere with space to put her feet on solid, flat (yet somehow sticky) ground. The hand on her waist helps stabilize her through the movement and she's glad for the support, a literal helping hand until she moves to make her apologies. No! No -- there was no way it was possible. The way his lips press together in response to her notice she expects them to twist into a sneer at her expense, when it turns into laughter instead she isn't certain that was any better. Was he laughing at the situation they found themselves in or at her?

Being physically lifted then thrust into the corner like this felt stifling in every extreme, A sudden switch when she was already dismayed and a little in shock at this turn of events, bright blue eyes open wide and startled by the movement; Now everything was much too close, smothering. The wall behind her had no more room to give with her backpach rammed up against it. There was nowhere really left to move to and Ash Crimson was tall and lanky so it felt like he was fencing her in.

Was he taking up much more space than he should be? He should watch that, it wasn't polite.

In way of response she slowly and methodically hefts her travel bag to her chest and wraps both arms around it hugging it to her chest between the two of them, head turned down so the fringe hides her eyes she makes a point of looking away while only occasionally stealing glances his direction, appearing content to ride out this unfortunate turn of events in complete silence she just doesn't know what to say.

What did he want? She already apologized for bumping into him like this, she wasn't deliberately making a hindrance of herself and last time she'd even left him alone just to avoid inconveniencing himc well, that was part of the reason she had. Now, she didn't have anywhere left to go, not unless this just happened to be his stop! ... no?

She couldn't just let this go on with this atmosphere between them.

"The weather - I-it's so nice this time of year."

Simple, innocuous language and a safe haven of conversation that immediately make her want to slap a hand to her forehead. The Energetic and boisterous girl had made a rebound and reappearance in her attempt to just make polite conversation until one of them has to leave. Just something small that she thought could pass the time until one of them could leave... the feeling of Deja vu is strong at this point.

Isn't it sad, everything he does for her, to help, is perceived as stifling, smothering, and all around awful? As much as the slender youth imposes on her personal space at a /respectable/ distance, he's actually a very good blockade. No one is getting close to her, the way they do to Ash. Just look, he's got some suited businessman chattering away on the phone and practically on his back. At his elbow, a gum-snapping girl brushes up against him; her attire suggests she belongs to some kind of rock band. There is seriously no room, but Hitomi has more than enough for her luggage and her backpack, because he was considerate enough to put her there.

She's also not going to fall over, if there's another sudden stop.

Ash doesn't expect any sort of conversation or pointless blathering. The brunette karateka can wilt in the corner in judgmental silence and think ill of him all she wants. His lazily half-lidded blue-eyed stare moves on eventually, returning to the window; Crimson reminds himself of his location, how far he has left to go. With his other hand, the one that had swept around her waist, the lackadaisical teen absently toys with his hair, arranged in no particular style, just 'down'. Wearing it as such makes him look older, which may be the intention without being HIS intention...

It only makes sense to the consciousness in his mind that finds flaws with his descendant's appearance at every turn and subtly influences him to change.

Nails of rust-coloured crimson catch the light as he twists a healthy flaxen strand around the tip of his finger. Ash almost resumes his absent-minded humming, but Hitomi... asks about the weather. Are you for real?

The flamewielding Frenchman looks down the length of his freckled nose at the girl who is practically cowering away from him, satchel clutched to her chest. Does she think he's imprisoning her? He vents a snort, causing his nostrils to flare gently. "I don't really like the cold," Ash offers simply in answer, but his tone is pleasant enough. A sigh seems to be building in his chest next, judging by the way it expands to release it. Nothing happens. Instead, pearly white teeth find his lower lip and leave indentations behind as he chews thoughtfully, waging a quiet war within himself, "It's not so bad right now. Nice, even..."

Shuddering to a halt once again, the automatic doors slide open and some of the canned sardines spill out, but the lack of space remains, bodies of commuters all squished into the small car. The businessman has been joined by at least three more. They complain loudly behind him, one elbowing Ash rather awkwardly in the spine.

And then it happens.

Right when a clunk signifies the doors barring further exit and entry, just as gears grind and the train chugs into motion, Ash's eyes are shock wide. Against his own volition, he takes a tiny step forward, more like a shuffle, and his face reddens. The distressed flush starts in his cheeks and expands from there, over the bridge of his nose, the tip of his chin. His ears do not escape, a brilliant vermilion visible beneath his hair. S..someone just groped his backside! Isn't it obvious that he's not a girl?!

"C'est quoi cette merde?!" he manages to say, practically choking on his tongue as the words tumble out of Ash's mouth in a rush. The young European's head snaps back to glare over his shoulder, but the businessmen bitch and the one who was there all along is still on the phone... So who did it?!

Yes, this certainly was conversation... they were talking, and eating up the time until one of them, obviously relieved; would get to take off at their appointed stop. Time was flying by! -- any minute, aaaany minute now.

She nods along with his commentary while almost trying not to listen, certain any minute now the barbs might emerge, but finds it confusing when he seems to take the opportunity to humour her and add some component of what might actually be considered weak but still actually dialoguing with her.

Slight hint of life and interest blooms in response to what might be an olive branch, mostly it was curiosity as the head comes round and he can actually see her looking up at him, was it that different to how they'd spoken some few times before?

Well, yes! He'd said something about himself and what he liked, that hadn't really happened before.

She accepts that fact with an eye-closed beaming smile like he'd given her something a lot grander than just some passing conversation about the weather. She had no idea what the motive was behind him doing so butc it was different this time from the Ash Crimson she had one-time partnered with.

"Is that so?"

The train begins to rumble away and the jostling and new arrivals are making and claiming spaces throughout the carriage when for some reason Ash suddenly jerks in what seems like -much- closer, maybe it just seemed like he was coming toward and leaning in at her; too close!! What-did-he-think-he-was-doing!? The flush creeping across his face REALLY worries her right up until the moment he turns back to look over his shoulder glaring holes in the men pressing in behind him. At first she suspects he was reacting to being shunted closer to her, but the wide eyed incredulous look on his face and meaning filled glare he was shooting them. She had an inkling what had happened.

She was getting to be a pretty good judge of crowds and customers, these men in the suits were probably associates or at least riding together to the same destination. She saw the sleeve of one of those tailor suits as is moved away which was conformation enough, but she didn't know which one was guilty.

It's not what people actually see, it's what they think they have seen.

She lunges forward and reaches out with one of her hands to grip one of those suit tailored wrists, she's not sure even which man she actually grabbed since surprise registers on a couple of faces even more with the case thudding around on the floor and bouncing off her feet.

Injustice, and it should be punished.

Pulling on the wrist to prevent his escape she makes a show of drawing breath and suddenly lets loose.

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaHHHH!! Somebody help me!!"

Hitomi turns heads throughout the carriage toward the commotion a young girls screaming can make, the same time she's pushing that arm up into the air and away from her thus singling that group out from the crowd. It's their choice in how to handle her embarrassing them, she's soaking up all the attention and generating a message most of the commuters will take from seeing such a scene. Most Japanese people might go to extreme lengths to avoid creating a scene, suffering in silencec unfortunately for these men!

Hitomi was European.

Perhaps it is his lucky day, because Hitomi cottons on faster than expected.

Hey, she could've interpreted the decrease in reasonable space between them as some sort of threatening gesture and slapped him. So, yeah.

His head is turned, narrowed pupils searching for the mystery groper when the karateka's bag hits the floor with a muted thud. Somehow, his toes avoid its wrath, the crushing weight piled on Hitomi's feet alone. The girl lunges, now in HIS personal bubble in a surprising reversal, her head under his outstretched arm, shoulder against his middle. "Er?" Ash says a bit stupidly, slow to understand what's happening around him until her girlish shriek fills his ears and deafens him. /OW/ /DAMN/.

He covers one ear, but the other is not so fortunate.

It is terrifying how loud Hitomi can scream.

The rocker chick at his elbow leaps back in alarm and onto someone else. Many others start in similar ways. Indeed, heads are definitely turning, and the bridge of his nose wrinkles at all the attention suddenly being showered upon them as the passengers wonder who the pervert is, as well.

It is a question that does not go unanswered for long. Hand fastened onto the attacker's wrist, it's left the man overextended, and then his arm is hoisted into the air. Turns out, the bald one who put his elbow into Ash's back was the groper. He's caught like a rat in a trap, eyes bugging out of head, bald patch glistening with sweat. The other two complainers end their conversation prematurely on a choked off note; the phone-user actually drops his cell. Crimson's glare now has someone to focus upon.

Lips curl back from white rows of teeth, revealing the nastiest of sneers. "Violating a young man on the train, monsieur? Is no one safe these days? Couldn't even offer to buy me dinner, first." His head shakes with dismay, blonde hair in a windswept state of disarray, possibly making the effeminate teen look a little less convincing as a guy. "I'm afraid you're not my type," he adds with a note of snide indignance.

Interesting conclusions can be drawn from those words regarding Ash, but what does he care what others think about him? Not many can hear his baleful declaration, either. Too much noise generated by the train's locomotion; only those in the general vicinity are privy to the finer details. The groper, whether he had chosen the flamewielder due to preference or by mistake, starts to wriggle to release himself from Hitomi's hold. His coworkers look about ready to die of shame on the spot. They're completely mortified.

Since everyone enjoys convenient storytelling, their arrival at another station is imminent, and Chester the Molester is forcefully dragged away with the rush of the crowd. The instant they pass through the doors, carrying him along, the commuters begin to disperse and walk pointedly around him. Even his friends pretend that they have no relation to him. A woman whispers to her associate not to get anywhere close, lest he leap on them like some crazed sexual predator. Hitomi's horrible shriek has possibly ruined his life.

But Ash is grateful. As grateful as he dares to show, anyway. He's also a bit wary... She had beamed at him so bright when he had imparted something regarding himself, which he too has realized he has never done before. The slender Frenchman has kept this particular individual at the greatest distance imaginable, due to her personality and the things she does, such as shouting about a pervert on the train... A little kindness would go a long way and that is exactly the problem...

Still, he smiles. It's not something cold or cruel. For a brief instance, there is something real in his expression, actual warmth. Lids shutter over pale blue eyes so that the emotion is hidden away. "Hopefully the rest of today is as interesting as the morning has been," Ash giggles softly, splaying thin fingers against his lips as he does so.

The dropped cell-phone punctuates the final moment of the amassing and reeling in silent and accusing stares, and beginning of the crowds condemnation, allowing for just enough time to piece together all the 'facts' and follow them to a logical conclusion. She releases the man's arm, now certain he and his group has been identified. Her righteous fury starts draining away as she notes the surprise and panic in the group she alone is responsible for singling out. Beside her, brushing against her shoulder Ash tosses off a quip or two at their expense. They had earned this kind of a response for molesting someone; They had!

Hitomi allows her hand to fall back to her side but keeps her gaze levelled and directed at the backs of the men following their retreat, to the figure left all alone as people avoid him. A muscle in her hand twitches, with a woman voice heaping even more scorn upon the lot he was already dealing with; she managed to keep the impassive and focused mask up and in place even while watching that. What had she actually just done?

It had all escalated so quickly, she hadn't meant to do something like that. For it to go that far and get out of hand like that with just a push and some inkling of how the crowd was likely to react to a scene. She had thought if she embarrassed them quickly enough and relinquished her hold they might move on quickly to another carriage to escape the crowds judgement. She'd punished a clear-cut horrendous injustice and yet it left her with a terrible queasy feeling settling into the pit of her stomach, especially now watching as the crowd disperses around that balding man. Did the punishment fit the crime or equal out against the devastation she may have inflicted?

She wasn't even the victim here.

Dropping the super serious mask and letting herself return to a more normal state of mind she heaves a sigh, of relief? She didn't feel relieved at all but still switches gears back to being her usual cheery self. Glancing up at Ash she shows off a somewhat awkward smile, her feeling about it were a little uncertain as she brushes the tip of her nose rubbing it with her finger, as --ahem.

Bending to right her fallen case she also inspects it for damage, taking her time since she didn't really know what to do whenc he was smiling.% Content in her assessment she'd just scuffed the case a little she peels off her left sneaker in her stooped half standing crouch and rubs her foot rather energetically.

Yeah! That had actually hurt quite a lot when she dropped the case right on her feet, but there was always time to nurse your injuries after the action, it was important to strike fir-There she went again! That wasn't like her at all.

"I'll settle for being able to make it to school on time!... . . . . . . Why do you do that?"

She pauses while she drops her shoe and starts wriggling her foot back into it without unlacing or even untying the knot. As she stands, she gestures just casually toward him and the gesture he was currently in the midst of.

"Hide when you're smiling.. or happy?"

She hadn't seen it before, it was kind of amazing! Not just because of his character and what little she knew of him, but.. it was something kind of special to see in person.

There is a valuable lesson to be learned here, that the outcome can be just as severe as the initial occurrence. It's called consequences, or ramifications of justice. Ash knows this better than most...

'Were you to slay a family and genuinely not remember... the proof is engraved in your blood, and etched in the souls you have taken. You still must be held accountable.'

Igniz never forgot, could not forgive and let go of the hate he had died with in a future that no longer exists. A future that Ash, as he is now, barely understands. He intended to make the pale teen pay after all the False God had done himself.

In some ways, this plan achieved a measure of success.

Not success in that it's ruined his life, but Crimson still has nightmares. The bum-grabber will suffer the same and worse; he's being punished for his perverted audacity. If it wasn't Ash, it could've been Hitomi or someone else. Maybe that person would've said nothing, maybe there would be a string of victims had the German karateka not taken matters into her own hands.

Now, it may never happen. She should find comfort in that fact.

His laughter is not loud, nor does it last. Once trailing off, Ash shows little interest in the gathering of her luggage from the floor, or when she pops off a shoe to rub at her foot, so his gaze wanders. Not for long, but long enough to miss cutesy or pained expressions as they flit across Hitomi's youthful features. Her voice eventually calls for the freckle-faced fighter's attention to return. Slowly, lazily, he grants her the acknowledgement she likely expects. Or doesn't. It hardly matters.

Bah, making it to school on time, he smirks in a crooked way, doubtful but unable to say as much. A question is posed, almost hanging in the air between them. The action may be self-conscious, running the soft pads of his fingers against his lower lip, the polish of his nails glittering as they reflect the light. Ash makes a gentle noise to denote thought, considering, musing.

This would be the most appropriate time to resume the roles established previously, where the flamboyant teen is a jerk of the highest standing, cruel and nasty, and Hitomi is a... disappointing meddler. It's better to push away those who could interfere with his plans, or just in general... But she did step in on his behalf, even if Crimson could've handled the situation without her assistance. It'd be a piss-poor way to repay her, if he lashed out with the whip that is his words.

Besides, if he tore her down again, she might leap out the window or something equally dangerous.

"You really want to know?" he says smoothly, lowering his head, his attractive face likely filling the entirety of her vision. Hitomi has had this close-up before, and Ash is no less 'pretty' now, with his eyes like the clear sky, his features perfectly proportioned and delicate from the bridge of his faintly freckled nose to the straight line of his jaw, curving generously at his chin. His breath is similarly sweet, and he offers a lopsided Cheshire Cat's grin. "I won't tell you," he says and there is that musical quality to his voice at last.

The timing is a little too perfect, because at that moment, they reach his stop. The doors shudder as they open with a bit of a grind. Because it happens to be a central public transportation hub downtown, half the people in the car or perhaps greater numbers disembark, Ash Crimson able to find himself included. Before he sashays off, unsticking his hand from the window and leaving an outline behind, he ruffles Hitomi's brown hair in a manner most playful. It might even be fond, to the casual onlooker. "Adieu, silly girl~"

Maybe she asked for it, somehow? But the way he leans down right into her face actually causes her to shift her footing and move to step away. Her personal space was remarkably small but for certain he was encroaching to degree she was beginning to feel wasc inappropriate! It had everything to do with the fact they'd only just now managed to extend an olive branch between the two of them.. Not at all because he was so ethereally pretty, kinda like an elf. Boys shouldn't be doing that to girls anyway!! The way he smiles seems genuine and she begins to suspect he's toying with her.

Half-opening her mouth to reply in the affirmative when he posits the question to her he also cheats, stopping her in her tracks. He, wouldn't tell her? Now she knew she was being toyed with and any protest on her part Is cut off as the hand sets down upon her head and ruffles her hair, screwing her eyes shut once again as the fringe and long bangs brush and tickle against her face and opens them once again to Ash's back as he is taking his leave, ..it was his stop?

Moh!

Smoothing her hair back down by hand immediately after the ruffling Hitomi with a two quick strokes it accomplished very little; abandoning the attempt at personal grooming it was just an embarrassed reaction already. She knew she had a quick sprint and and high speed ride in her immediate future and thus the movement is more about resettling that pink hairband she always wore than fixing her hair. She was still a girl, that was a little frustrating to have her head rubbed like that; like she was a child and it's evident in her stiff posture.

Nobody else treated her like she was still a kid. Baffling!

"Schoenen Tag wunshe ich Ihnen!!"

And there was her small amount of pushback, 'have a nice day' response in Ge3rman to the French wasn't a great and terrible levelling of the status quo between them but there was some small chance he didn't speak German. When the doors slide shut and she resumes her journey by herself, what she'd done to those men keeps coming back to haunt her. It was going to be a long day.

Late that night when a stumbling drunk, rumpled and balding salaryman wanders into the station and bumbles into his train, still drinking form a bottle in a paper bag he finds a remarkably sympathetic young woman willing to listen to his tale. She appears to empathise but tells him off in all the appropriate places of his story where.. he knew better, disapproving when he mentioned something bad like she was his mother rather than some young'un he'd just met. She let him pour his heart out as the trains just go round and round for the night. The possibly guardian angel even makes sure he gets off safe at the right stop.
It was pretty much all she could manage on a school night.

Log created on 20:00:23 10/05/2015 by Ash, and last modified on 21:46:36 02/10/2017.