Hanahi stopped and looked around her, and she was struck by the question of whether what she was doing was sacrilege or not. She had been running and her feet at taken her to the cemetery that she could see from the window of her home. She'd gone out to run before having lunch, but would the dead that rested here be upset that someone was using the places that they now slept as a place to exercise or would they be glad to see that even where they slept a young girl in shorts and a tank-top would still come to visit. Perhaps, she should light a candle for one of them.

Still she walked out of the grave yard not wanting to be chased out by some irate monk. Once she got to the stairs that led to the street she turned back to the graves and clasped her hands together like she'd seen both monks and Christians do, and did her best to say a prayer, even if she wasn't sure just what either the Buddists, Shintos or Christians actually said in their prayers. Turning a bit to quickly her foot caught on a bit of uneven brick work, and suddenly she was in the air from what she could tell, looking down at the stairs below her. As she fell she managed to grab a hold of the railing, but not tight enough to stop her, instead she slid down the stairs until she finally came to a stop at the base of them, her mind waiting for the pain of this to trickle in from her back side, while her hand still absent mindedly clutched the railing.

“That looked painful.” His voice was soft. Detached even. But he was still kneeling next to her, and gently set his hands on her waist before standing straight, and setting her back on her feet. His hair was long, and Venetian red, vibrantly so. The eyes that looked into hers were icy cold, like Malachite gemstones shaped to be an iris. The effect of the uncanny valley could be attributed to the unsettling aura he seemed to cast, as his skin, though unhealthily pale, was akin to a form of marble stone. “One does not usually find wyrmlings amongst the dead. What has you here I wonder?” It was empty, but the voice still held a lilt of desire to it. Intellectual curiosity, not the emotion. “Fate does not send young women crashing into my lap without a reason.” He was garbed in a strange black coat, almost a cloak, with a white flame trim to it, a seeming pattern with significance, yet unknown meaning. It had no visible zipper, claps, or button, yet was still closed around his chest. The hands that were still on her waist were covered in black gloves. Apart from that, she could see little of what he was underneath the coat.

Hanahi was about to respond to the man, but suddenly she was in his grasp and feeling smaller than she'd felt in a long time, against her own will she gave out a squeek as set her onto her feet. She backed up a bit from him until she felt the hand railing pushing into her back. She felt oddly juxtaposed to him, and couldn't help but wonder if this was a trick someone had set up with a hidden video camera, the contrast between their hairs colour just too bold to be ignored. She managed to cough out the word in her confusion. "Wyrmlings?" What was he talking about. "I'm sorry? D-do you have family here, if you don't want me running her I won't any more." she was afriad of what was under that coat, as her skin crawled telling her just to run. She hoped that she was wrong and her mind was just playing tricks on her, but she couldn't help but feel that at the best case this man was a flasher, and at worse the last person she would ever see once he revealed all of the tool he had hidden underneath his coat. When he mentioned fate placing her in his lap she wanted to cry now, it seemed more and more likely that she would never see the sun rise again, or her sister. There was of course no one around she could call to, the street was deserted except for the two of them.

Peter paused, looking at her with that same empty expression. “Yes... Children. My apologies, I think in... Inhuman terms these days. My mind wanders... Your heart rate is sky rocketing. Your respiration is elevating. I am not seeing any cause for physical stress... Unless... Are you afraid of me?” He gently set both his hands in pockets of his robe. “I mean you no harm. I have... A kinship, to the dead. A commonality. I, and they, have no place in this world.” He looked upwards, before he removed his right hand, and slowly, hesitantly extended it towards the young green haired lass. It got half way before he spoke. “Peter Emile. A Director of ShinJuku Memorial Hospital. And you are?” He paused a moment, looking at her eyes, before he set his lips in a slight frown, and shifted to a more Japanese bow, as opposed to the Canadian handshake, his hand returning to his pocket.

Hanahi's eyes grew a little wider as he spoke the word 'inhuman' and as he spoke about her pounding heart and quick breathing she tried swallowing to calm herself, but it didn't really help. When she was asked plainly if she feared him all she could managed was a small voice in response. "No..." it was true of course, she wasn't afraid of him, he terrified her.

As he reached out his hand towards her she studied out carefully, her mind going back to a tale of the assassins where they would wear rings that had spines of them that bore poison for whom ever shook their hands, but he had no ring on his fingers and before she could even reach out a nervous hand he retracted his. She instictively returned his bow and then he asked for her name "My name is, uh..." she stumbled on her words, there was no one that she would give him her real name. "Shinyo, Shinyo Miryoku" She could kick herself, who in the hell would name their daughter the dead girl, and the family name of the Green Beauty, there was no way he wouldn't see right though her, she was so dead, all that was left was either a flash of something silver as she slit her throat or having a damp rag pushed over her mouth and nose as she was forced to breath in its chemical fumes.

"Deception will ill-serve you when dealing with me, but..." He made a lazy hand motion. "In any case, Young One. I mean you no harm. I showed you my capabilities when I righted you to your feet. I could have done it then and there." He moved almost lightning fast, hand above her head to ruffle her hair 'playfully',a measured motion to show non-agression, before his hand returned to his pocket. "I am here to kill time, not you. My superior threatened to use a Fire Extinguisher on me if I kept taking my breaks in my office." He was exaggerating, but it had been something similar.

Since Peter's paperwork output tended to spike dramatically when he was annoyed, which was steadily becoming every day, he assumed the complaints that he was drowning the rest of the floor in technically useful paperwork, but still a beauracratic nightmare of forms... As Peter put it, if he was bored, Six Sigma forms got filled out. In triplicate.

Basically Peter reinforcing the title someone once gave him. Paperwork Satan. The fact he wore a spiffy costume every Halloween of a different form of devil, certainly helped. Especially since he also handed out performance reviews that day in it.

Hanahi's eyes fell to the ground when he informed her that lying wouldn't work on him but meekly she protested. "Shinyo really is my name though." Suddenly his hand was ruffling her hair and she could feel her legs shaking below her, no matter his gentle words she was his play thing now, he could end her life at any moment he chose. Then he went off onto some tangent about having a fire extinguisher being used on him. "uh-huh" she managed to make the sound barely louder than a mouse.

"I will have to have you produce some Identification to back that up Miss." He spoke with that same empty tone. "But, You do not seem to have a concussion, despite the fact I can tell you are absolutely terrified of me... I think I can release you back into general population without fear you will end up hurting yourself... Watch your footing next time." The no nonsense tone an adult would use, lacking emotion, but showing authority, and impressing caution. "If I have to pick you up off the ground again, it's off to the hospital with you." He patted her shoulder, his arm moving like a mongoose, before he took a look at the stairs. "Hmm..." He backed up a few paces. "Stand back." He felt a little high pressure today. two or three feet running start, and he exploded into motion, clearing the stairs and then some with one movement, and landing in a crouch at the top. "I am headed on my way to lunch. Care to join?"

Hanahi was honestly surprised at his domand for identification, could he not see her, and what she was wearing. Between the tank-top and bun-hugger shorts she had on, she didn't exactly have much room for carrying money much less identification, where did he even think she had it, in her cleavage? In her sports bra she looked to be a smaller b-cup, and the more she dwelt on it, the more she wanted to scream at him. "I don't have any?" She wasn't sure why she would ask him, but it was proposterious for him to think that she had any, when she didn't even have any pockets for money.

When he offered her accompanying him for lunch she was ashamed to admit that her mind started weighing the pros and cons of going with him, on the pro side there was the fact that this meant one less meal she'd have to spend money on, maybe even two if they went somewhere that they gave out big portions. On the down side however there was the fact that accompanying him meant her likely if not inevitable: rape, murder, dismemberment and or cannibalization. "Uh, I'm good, I'm sure my mom is already making my lunch, so I should be getting home." And with that she just ran, not towards her home, if he was going to follow her, she didn't want to lead him to where she slept so that he could choose when to strike. She just ran with both him and her home getting further behind her.