I'm a commin' home (CLOSED to whatever muse Abel is using....)

Nanami Himura had always been fond of nice, quiet places.

What could she say? They were usually easy to get to, didn't smell like anything abhorrent, and were nice places to sit and think, occasionally murmuring something into a microphone or typing something out on a laptop.

This was not one of those places. Train stations had never been her favorite places in the world, with their squealing brakes to the chatter of people coming in and out of them. All too easy was it for some pervert to cop a feel or flip her skirt, or take embarrassing photos of her underwear. She usually wore shorts to prevent that, but some days....

She sighed, and looked about, smashed against a corner of the station. At least here she could see any perverts coming her way and get the fuck out of dodge should the need arise. Why was she here? To people watch? That could be done at a park. To stand about? That could be done anywhere! Maybe she wanted the danger of people coming up and talking to her. That way, she'd get a chance to use her pepper spray and her wits. While she might not be fast, she could certainly book it if need be. For now, she wondered what she was going to do here as she watched the people pass by and made mental notes about how they handled tiredness. At least, in a way that she could see.

It is curious how sometimes shit happened just for being in the wrong place in the wrong moment. If we understand time as a fourth dimension added to the three dimensions of euclidian space, statistically speaking the probability of being on the area of effect at the time of some dangerous or violent effect neared absolute zero. After all, only so many thing affected point x during history and the amount of space and relative small scale of these events meant that if distribution of violent events was even throughout the entire universe, only a single event would affect each point and its power would be so small that it would likely have no effect at all even in a molecular level, much less be enough to cause such a thing as pain.

But again, reality was a sadistic bitch and it hated planet Earth, all humans and concretely, it hated Nanami Himura's guts. Why?, Because fuck life and living stuff, that's why.

And thus, without any further warning, an adult man with rather poor balance fell on Nanami. Now, this wasn't that bad... Or it wouldn't be if said man wasn't carrying a pile of small wood crates, put together with nails and being used to transport bottles of fragile and sharp crystal.

The sound of the impact was overwhelming and more than one unaware passerby almost jumped through the roof so startling the whole thing was.

From the whole mess, a hobo-looking man emerged looking rather unharmed, confused by the whole ordeal, he looked from side to side only to see a good deal of the bottles and their containers broken. "... Great. There goes my stock...", he said as he let out a loud sigh... Oh well, it didn't matter. He could always get the money for more and get another order. What mattered was that he was juuuuuuusssstttt fineeeeeee...

Wait a second though, how come he was unharmed?, normally such a thing would hurt like hell.

With a rather comical gesture, Seshou looked up as he rubbed his chin with his index and his thumb. "Hmmm...", he hummed as he tried to remember. What could be this thing, this reason behind his apparent perfect state?...

After a few moments, he realised it!, of course!, he had fell on something soft and squishy!, it was so obvious!

... Only then dis he noticed that he was still sitting on something soft and squishy.

Crates. That's all she saw as she saw as she let out a startled shriek to add to another one as wood, iron, glass and a liquid of some sort were dumped on to her. She did her best to try and shield herself from the catastrophe that had occurred to her, but she was only successful in covering her eyes. She felt her back hit the wall, splinters piercing through her flesh, breaking glass cutting through in too many places, and a stinging everywhere there was a cut.

When everything finally stood still, she did a damage check on herself. She couldn't count how many splinters and cuts were on her, but they all hurt and they all were on her limbs and chest. Her face was mostly unharmed, which was a good thing. Everything else was hurting an awful lot. Nanami wasn't sure how it happened, until she also noticed that there was something incredibly heavy on her, bouncing slightly. What... what the hell...?

"Urg... c-could you get off of me...?" she whispered hoarsely, groping about and feeling cloth. She tugged on it in a downward motion, hoping this gesture would get whomever was on her off. She could almost feel her pelvic bone getting crushed by the immense weight on it. If they didn't get off soon, she was going to have to go to the hospital, and she'd rather not do that. "P-please...? Now?"

"Hmm?"

Looking down, Seshou discovered that he had trapped a girl underneath him. A lady in distress that now needed his assistance!, Just like in a fairy tale!

But, oh woe, now the narrator presented a dilemma before his eyes and he had two options he could select, two paths to take that would determine the fate of humankind. He could either be a gentleman and help her out... Or he could lean back, loudly shriek 'WRYYYYYYYYYY!!' and start pummeling her until the crates exploded in order to finish what he had started.

But despite the narrator's insistence in the later, Seshou was a good guy, friend to all living things and a boring retard (I swear to god I'll get you for this Seshou), so of course he stood up and with his strong hands picked the girl up, putting her back on her feet away from the mess like it was no issue. After all, he was accustomed to lifting. His business included a whole lot of it.

"I'm sorry for that!, Are you ok?", he asked with that permanent smile of his, despite even a blind moron would have seen the many little cuts and splinters. Seshou had never been too good at detail. Or at keeping personal space for that matter, as the girl would have already noticed from the lack of any kind of distance left between her and the handsome hobo man that just kept weegee-staring straight into her eyes with that big, creepy smile of his. Did he even blink?!

... *Sigh...*, The preceding statement has been scratched for legal reasons. Apparently the hyperbole of quirks and traits of a character is considered defamation these days. Seshou also is dead set in not letting the narrator have fun at all. Hooray for our legal system and dem bitches and whores that exploit it.

"If you excuse me, I'm going to clean up this mess", he then said, still smiling and staring, thus, our hero then turned and began to clean at the speed of plot, which meant that thanks to a very convenient cut everything that could be saved was in a tidy pile before them and everything that was not laid in a container 300 meters away from the station barely a nanosecond after he turned. "Well, I guess that's it!", he happily said as he brought his palms together with a smile that had nothin' on Cooking Mama's. Then the plane became a close-up of Seshou's face and the background faded away, substituted by lavish, sparkly colors as Seshou turned his head in slow-mo, his manly sexiness and charming smile accentuated in typical shojo male protagonist fashion, "By the way... My name's Seshou. Seshou Nakamura."

The narrator then put some music on to increase the already inherent awesomeness of the moment (though it would have been even more awesome with some pummeling...):

...
...
What... the hell...? What the fuck? There was no way that the fourth wall was shattering... right? She shook herself out of her daydream and assessed the damage done to her.

Her dress was soaked with something that looked like blood, but on a closer smell was wine. God, this stuff was horrible. But... What was this white stuff too? Clear? Most of it stank, most of it ruined her dress and all of it was cleaned up faster than someone could say 'Holy super cleaning skills, Batman!' What else was wrong... There were splinters everywhere that wasn't her face, some buried deep and some not, but all of them hurt. For the glass, it was more of the same, except there was a distinct possibility that they could kill her if left in and she wasn't sure where and if there was glass inside of her. Only a hospital could tell.

She looked up at him and was almost... infuriated at his smile. How dare he... HOW DARE HE JUST SIT THERE AND SMILE AT HER. This... absolutely incompetent homeless man! She wasn't analyzing him now. Now she was just angry and hurt that he didn't even look the /slightest/ bit concerned about her well-being! Her face contorted almost comically from confusion to anger, but her fury was no laughing matter. She was ready to kill this bitch slowly and painfully.

Nanami barely stopped herself from doing that though. She would make a scene in public, and that wasn't her at all. She was much better than her words than her fists. "That hurt, sir," she bit out, glaring at him with every ounce of hate at her disposal. "Might I /borrow/ a kerchief?" Her tone said that she wasn't going to give it back, even if he groveled then and there, begging for forgiveness. The ball was in his court now.