[The scene is Misery Square, quite well-populated today. Here, near the fountain, stands a Rin in front of a table. On that table, various pastries are neatly arranged.]
[There is a spot of color in the flamboyant crowd--one that stands still, his apparel particularly garish upon a pallid face.]
[His eyes are shrouded as he whispers to himself. His words are inaudible, but the hiss of his speech carries, as though borne aloft on the wind . . .]
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It sure is! Would you like one, sir?
[Offers him a small rice cake.]
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... uh. Beg your pardon?
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[Gives a small bow.]
Ah, nothing in particular! Just thought I might help brigthen the day.
[Which... is not entirely a lie.]
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[His eyes are shrouded as he whispers to himself. His words are inaudible, but the hiss of his speech carries, as though borne aloft on the wind . . .]
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She gnaws on her lip a little.]
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. . . ほ.
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ほーーう?
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Well, then! Don't mind if I do!
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H-hey! But leave some for others, okay?
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Shhh, I'm trying to talk to them.
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