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SETTING: A STREET?
( kagura is hurrying along, trying to hurry along, going as fast as one can go while trying to put papers and a notebook in a bag while navigating down a busy street and trying to not run into anyone and wearing wedges on top of all that, when something slips and —
yes, there it all goes, a sheaf of lined paper, several handouts, pens, and a thin textbook labelled EARLY CHILDCARE & DEVELOPMENT, scattering in the middle of the sidewalk. ) Ooh — crap! ( she falls to her knees, mindful of her short dress, and begins trying to gather it all before it scatters or is stepped on. )
yes, there it all goes, a sheaf of lined paper, several handouts, pens, and a thin textbook labelled EARLY CHILDCARE & DEVELOPMENT, scattering in the middle of the sidewalk. ) Ooh — crap! ( she falls to her knees, mindful of her short dress, and begins trying to gather it all before it scatters or is stepped on. )
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for a moment her expression is blank; she doesn't know how to play that one smoothly, what excuse to give. but — you know, screw that; she looks aside, guiltily but trying to play it off. ) —It's my major!
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Secrets make up the fabric of identity. Secrets are the shadows we all cast, following us as we walk through our everyday lives. Perhaps that makes secrets as mundane as the rest of our routine.
( but maybe he's talked too much; he tends to do that. )
Or— Or they could be an overwhelming force. I wouldn't know. I tend to not know anything, ever.
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she looks away to gather up the rest of her things, worrying her lip; once it's all safely bundled into her arms she stands, again mindful of her short dress. it's impulse that guides her — but kagura's never been any good at denying her impulses. )
Say, it's going to be a little bit before the next train. Are you free?