Merry froze right where she stood the second she felt that very accusatory hand grip onto her shoulder. At first she assumed she’d been caught for swiping sunscreen from one of the unmanned stores, but that worry was quickly replaced by instant confusion.
This voice spoke as if they were familiar with her, and with a certainty that Merry should know her in turn. But Maribel certainly did not recognize the stranger's voice at all. Nor was there any spark of recognition in her golden eyes as she cautioned a glance behind her shoulder towards the hand's owner.
A bright red and white filled in her periphery, and the face of a stranger one who clearly incredibly upset at whoever this ‘Yukari’ was that Merry was being confused for.
“I'm um… sorry, you got the wrong person–” She speaks up after a nervous pause, quickly steeling herself before attempting to step away and break herself free from the red-white’s grasp.
‘You wanna play, huh? Sorry, but I'm not in the mood.’
"Yukari" protests. "Yukari" tries to escape. "Yukari" annoys the hand in the process and it clenches, again, joined by the face of someone who, yes, has no interest in playing. Someone who circles her like a hungry shark. ‘Who do you think you're tricking with the haircut, anyway?’ Someone who gets all the way up in Maribel's personal space—then just a little more. ‘You poke up so often I could pick you out of a crowd in the next province. Did you even try?’ Someone who then stops, centimeters away, jabbing an index (accusatory, always accusatory) at her, listing down what makes "Yukari" an unmistakable suspect.
Basic, ontologically Yukari-esque things. Traits she cannot easily rid herself of, not around someone she has forced familiarization on.
Like the creepy, fox-like eyes of a woman who has seen too much. ‘You've still got that dumb, hapless stare.’ The mischievous smile of a monster who knows too much. ‘Same old nervous don't-punch-me-please face.’ Big rack. ‘And—’
...
‘—wait. Huh?’
Her grip finally goes slack, and so does the entire rest of her body.
‘Who the heck are you?’
