[ It beats awkwardly walking in the same direction after saying their goodbyes, doesn't it?

Well, Mima thinks so, at least. She isn't sure what he thinks. She isn't sure about much of him - only that it feels, vaguely, as though she's being assessed by him, for better or for worse, his incising gaze peeling her down, seeing something in her that she can't.

She feels small and naked, and also lightly jubilant, that he agrees to make the short walk a friendly one. ]

I-- [ It feels silly, in a small and provincial sort of way, now that she's getting the words together in her mouth, like the small-minded and helpless practicality of a child, ] --haven't been here for very long. I was hoping that I could find a police station, or a terminal. So that I could find a map of the city there...

[ A little sheepishly, she fishes from her bag a blue spiral-bound notebook, printed with simplistic little fish which glitter gently in the hard neon light, and a long, slender pen. ]

It seems like I'm stuck, so I thought it'd be better if I could at least find my own way around.

[ Just looking for a map of hell, from the Hell Police, taking her silly little notes about what Hell Shops and Hell Restaurants there are. ]