#primary.

❝ hey, mister!  hold on a second, please...! ❞

tennis shoes tap against the concrete of the sidewalk,  a warm porcelain hand reaching out to take the sleeve of a stranger.  hanako had,  admittedly,  not thought this interaction through,  but she doesn’t fear anger for touching the man practically out of nowhere.  perhaps it is bravery she wears,  or maybe it’s just simple naivety.  whatever the case is,  her expression is nothing but serious as her fingers take tight grip of the material of his shirt.  she is driven by an unknown force,  a single purpose for which her soul burns.

❝ your eyes,  they... ❞  she’s here before him now,  near breathless,  and only in this moment does she realize she doesn’t know how to explain half of anything.  he would only look at her like she’s weird,  she remembers.  this is not her village,  and he does not know who she is.

still,  she has to try.  her reason is to help and to heal.  she will not give up.