[ When Tifa enters, she'll find Mitsuru sitting in one of the booths towards the back of the cafe with two cups of tea - still faintly steaming - on the table in front of her. She rises to her feet as Tifa walks up, smoothing a few imaginary wrinkles out of her shirt. ]
No, not at all.
[ Mitsuru attempts a friendly smile, but it isn't entirely convincing. There's something brittle about it, around the edges. ]
I hope that you didn't rush over on my account, though.
[ Even though she's very grateful for Tifa's presence at the same time. ]
no subject
No, not at all.
[ Mitsuru attempts a friendly smile, but it isn't entirely convincing. There's something brittle about it, around the edges. ]
I hope that you didn't rush over on my account, though.
[ Even though she's very grateful for Tifa's presence at the same time. ]