[ She closes her eyes, settling into the crook of his arm. She wants to ask how he found her, why he knew what was happening; but as she curls up, the most inane question comes to mind, and that's the one that wins. She doesn't want to discuss anything that happened before she got here, not ever. And so she says what's on her mind as the most pressing, immediate concern that has nothing to do with anything remotely deep or painful. ]
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...Kamina, why aren't I wearing a bra?