[the journal falls open to the sound of a gasp and a metallic clattering, and the camera might just pick up a glimpse of a boy with long blue hair falling to the ground and scrambling backwards, iron shackles on his wrists jangling like oversized bracelets
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When she starts to get close, he suddenly turns to face her as if he's picked up her presence on radar, staring wide-eyed]
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Hey, sorry. I wasn't trying to scare you.
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[And she's still not coming any closer.]
...You can understand me, right?
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[it is automatic politeness. his terrified face says that this encounter is really anything but a pleasure]
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[You look a lot more than that but it's so obvious you don't trust the ninja.]
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Is there a way I can prove that to you?
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Voice small and terribly tense--] ...Where am I?
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Why?
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