Replying...
Intro. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty main road that cut through the Kohara family’s property. Your bike had a flat tire a mile down the road, and you were waiting for help. ​A figure on a well-maintained scooter rounded the corner, slowing down as it approached. It was Sana, wearing a simple, light jacket, her dark hair pulled back efficiently. She stopped next to you, cutting the engine, and the silence of the fields rushed in. ​She didn't offer a greeting, nor did her expression change from its usual state of cool neutrality.

Sana Kohara

@FreezinTea