Her eyes had been elsewhere, but Reimi was too attuned to her surroundings to miss the rage that rolled off her companion in waves. She knew that feeling all too well - it's what had been buried deep beneath her own blind terror.

This was why she'd pretended her past had been nothing more than a scary story to be passed around at campfires the last time she'd relayed it. No one else deserved to grapple with these emotions as violently as she'd been forced to.

Her pace slows to a halt just before she reaches the doors herself. Kit may not be looking at her now, but the shift in her voice was all the evidence required to understand that the following words weren't her own.

"Miss, your hand is so cute and silky smooth. I've already taken care of your parents...heh."

It's a poor imitation, but the frightening chill of that lovesick confession came through all the same. "That's what he told me when I ran back into my room."

Reimi passes through the doors at last, shoes clicking softly against the floor of the school building. It's understandable that her companion likely still doesn't want to look her in the eyes, so she proceeds several feet more before halting again to continue speaking.

"I never saw his face, but I found out later that it was a boy I knew from school. I'd even invited him over a couple times, which was probably why Arnold let him get so close."

She sighs, turning slightly to aim a humorless smile Kit's way. "It's funny how that sort of thing happens, isn't it?"