Raphael Earhart
— You really should be more careful with your dramatic flair — said Erin sharply. — Keep this up and it'll bite you one day.
— Yes, yes, little one, whatever you say — Harumi giggled, completely unfazed.
— I don't find that the least bit funny.
— Maybe not, but you're so cute when you're mad.
— Don't touch me!
We had already reached the top floor of the administrative building, but the two of them weren't finished. Their exchange had shifted from casual irritation to a full-blown argument over what it meant to fight smart—and how far was too far.
Harumi's style clearly rattled Erin. It wasn't about the violence—Erin had seen enough blood to know better than that. What bothered her was the way Harumi risked herself recklessly, like she was dancing with death on purpose, counting on instinct and flair alone.
