The voice was soft, a gentle chime against the drumming rain. Hana looked up to see a girl peering at her from under a large, clear plastic umbrella. She was shorter than Hana, with hair the color of cinnamon roll icing and eyes so large and dark they seemed to absorb the gray afternoon light. She wore a pale yellow sundress dotted with tiny strawberries, completely at odds with the dreary weather.
This was not how her first solo outing was supposed to go. Moe girl touch advance
“Um… excuse me.”
She gestured to a soggy cardboard box where two kittens were mewling. That was the second advance: an offering of warmth and comfort, a bridge built of simple kindness. The voice was soft, a gentle chime against the drumming rain