set me free.

She wanders outside, glaring at anyone unlucky enough to meet eyes with her. Being pulled out of her perfect vacation with her mama and papa, into a different world full of people who didn’t even deserve to scrape the bottom of her shoes… It was disgusting, to say the least. And the place she was meant to stay! Some hovel underground? How was she supposed to keep her hair from frizzing? It was enough to set her on edge, to make her jaw clench as she tried to find her way around this godforsaken shithole. There were two things that could clear her mind at a time like this: iced coffee and a mani-pedi. She’d managed to find her way into what seemed to be a trade district, but the place was so full of people brushing against each other, some even fighting, that she only had one other option. Putting on her best lost damsel act, she gently nudges against some poor, unsuspecting stranger. “Excuse me~♥”

“Could you point me in the direction of the nearest cafe, or nail salon?”

When she thinks she’s finally seeing better days—happier days, bigger smiles, opportunity just waiting around the corner—her stomach lurches with a familiar uneasiness. She remembers this feeling from the night she managed her first kill: disoriented, desperate, even a little bit frantic, despite her best effort in trying to stay calm. The feeling is the same, but she can at least handle this situation better now. She is experienced, she has learned, she has grown.

She decides exploration will calm her nerves. Knowing exactly what she’s dealing with will help her keep track of the days. She’ll keep her mind off of other things (what about her family? Who is looking out for them? Is there anyone there for them while she’s gone? Are they worried that she’s disappeared?) and find something to preoccupy herself with.

Haruki finds herself lost in the sights, lets her feet lead the way and simply follows the flow of traffic (or lack thereof, if she wants to go off on the beaten path). She hits a busier part of the city that leaves her with bumping shoulders with strangers. It’s cramped, and she feels a weight on her shoulder that isn’t simply brushing against but reaching for her.

“Did you need something—” but she stops in the midst of the crowds trying to get by around her. Her mouth hangs open as she looks at a familiar face and wave of pink hair. The strikingly charming smile across those lips is a sight Haruki Sagae could never forget.

(Frankly, she looks like a deer in headlights, and how lame is that?)

Welcome to the hive, Haruki!

You will be housed in district zeta.

Enjoy your stay!

She takes a moment to calm herself down. Exploding in the middle of one of her favorite cafe’s was the last thing she wanted. Sure, she cared little for other’s opinions. But at this point, it was a matter of pride. Her lips tighten in a saccharine smile, irritation still visible on her brow, right hand now gently resting next to the mug as she let her words roll off her tongue. “I simply take pride in my appearance, and hold myself to higher standards than others~♥” she pointedly makes eye contact with the barista, her eyebrow raising to motion at the careless mess atop the girl’s head. She looked like she’d simply rolled out of bed and put her hair into a sloppy ponytail. Or worse, had simply slept in a ponytail. Isuke simply had to remind herself that not everyone had the same will to put effort into their appearances, and allowed her relative disgust to show just through the few motions she’d made. Pride gnaws at her stomach the moment this redhead tells her to drink her latte. Especially with how she worded it, as if chiding her for her order. She’d have to mix it up a bit in the future. “Naturally. But even when the rain is done with, going to get my hair done again won’t do anything, with this humidity.”

“Maybe if you would leave me to my drink, I wouldn’t let it go cold.”

Haruki chuckles at the retort. “What, you can’t multitask? People talk while enjoying their drinks all the time.” She gestures a bit with her hand, waving it dismissively as if the sheer thought of such a high-class woman not being able to multitask is heresy.

“Or maybe it’s that you’re just not used to company, so you don’t know how to?” Her grin becomes lopsided, as one edge of her mouth raises to be something more of a smirk. A challenging gesture, perhaps, with the way she’s handling her words with as little care as possible. “You’re always by yourself when you come inside. Do you not have any friends?”

It’s so easy to tell from the customer’s face how they’re feeling. Haruki’s really not all that perceptive, but she’s got her experience on reading people. Working in customer service really helps feel out how she should proceed with them.

It’s so easy to tell when she’s been prodding at weak spots. To be truthful, Haruki didn’t expect to tear down barriers like this so easily. The corners of lipstick rising up in annoyance while pretending to keep a civilized smile, narrowed eyes that could kill like daggers—this lady’s got all the signs, and Haruki thinks that just noticing it all is a victory in itself.

She notices manicured nails tapping against the bar’s surface; beautiful things, shining in the glimmer of the cafe’s light and painted a pretty pink. It’s the color that catches her eye more than the nails themselves.

It’s a little on the border of things that she’s allowed to do and can’t do, but what’s the worse that’ll happen? A complaint? Haruki’s had a perfect record at the cafe so far; one demerit isn’t going to really hurt her all that much (so long as she isn’t going to get fired).

Reaching out, Haruki gently grasps her little grumpy customer’s hand in her own. She’s not too surprised at how soft it is, or how strong they seem despite their frail appearances. Her wolfish grin turns lax, something more easygoing. Inspecting the hand, she looks back at the customer.

(Ahhh, maybe she's just accidentally triggered the first important CG scene that happens when you start on a character route.)

Haruki tilts her head to the side, decides that she's more comfortable resting her cheek against the palm of her hand. The locks of red hair that frame her face follow, falling in one direction as the rest of the messy mass is behind her. In a cafe that's usually poorly lit and colored forest green, most of her coworkers say she stands out.

(Sometimes it's for the better. Haruki brings in a lot of customers when she's working.)

"If you're so particular about how you look," and she looks over the girl's appearance once more (maybe to make a point, or just maybe to check her out), "You can always use the money you've got on hand to go back and fix everything up."

There is no doubt that this girl has some money. Despite the fact she rarely leaves much of a tip, only whatever coins are leftover from paying for her drink, Haruki can just tell. She's lived paycheck-to-paycheck for long enough that she can get an idea of someone's wealth. It's not her business, but she can't help but notice those details about someone.

(Maybe if she didn't have to live in such a way, she wouldn't care at all.)

"But even if you did, you'd definitely want to wait it out until the rain stops, right?" Haruki shrugs, gesturing for a moment at the caramel latte between the two of them.