Although the hour had gone well past the evening hours, her heart still sped up at the mere thought—the thought of, that kiss. With her eyes wide, there she sat in front of her board pinned with mysteries connected by red string.
No matter where her eyes darted to, that thought kept punching any sort of sleuthing she could even begin to tackle. Her hair had been fanned out and dried, her uniform most likely on the clothesline indoors.
Even so, it was quick work for a certain redhead to dispel the water from some of the garments—including the one Fumeko kept lying on the edge of her bed…
As she glanced to Tiffany's blazer, she heard a couple knocks at the door, "Who is it?"
"Me kid."
Fumeko responded with silence.
