It was amazing at how she could never get over the smell. The sights, the sounds. Everything else she could push away but the smell of the streets, of the places she’d learned to hide in. That was something she couldn’t get over. It didn’t matter what the smell actually was, to her it was just smelled overall like desperation. Heartache. Pain. Death.
It didn’t matter where she went anymore. She smelled it.
It was disgusting.
All the time alone had only seemed to make it all worse. Man wasn’t meant to be alone, and Yumi was more alone than most. Even among the people she walking in the middle of, she was alone.
It hardly made a difference when she broke off from them. Perhaps not the best idea when one was trying to hide from hunters chasing her, but she had to shake things up. Do something different. Keep the Suits on their toes. There was no option.
Though perhaps there was an option to pay more attention. To realize she’d turned on a road she hadn’t intended. The crowds were thinning to the point where she soon became one of the only people in the area.
Yumi knew she had to turn back - well not turn but make her way back to people. Not that it mattered. If the suits were around, if they knew where she was and wanted her. They could just take her. Yumi wasn’t stupid enough to think that she could evade them forever.
Anger bubbled just under the surface. Her target became one of the numerous garbage bins lying around. Her booted foot connected with it - loudly. A stupid move but one she didn’t care about in that moment.
“Motherfucking…” Kick! Another dent. “I. Fucking. Hate. This!”