to my closed self (closed to ~lavidamoca)

Moca doesn't live that far away from Ran's home, but it's rather astounding how much further everything seems in a thunderstorm. It's a late spring cloudburst, one that fit the tempestuous fight she'd had with her father. He'd told her that if she didn't want to inherit the Mitaki school of flower arranging, she could leave.

She'd left.

There's only one place she could really go, after a confrontation like that. One place where no matter what, she feels safe.

Soaked to the bone and throughly waterlogged, Ran knocks on the door to Moca's home. She doesn't know if the other girl is even here. Maybe she's out. Maybe she's doing something Moca-y. Maybe she's at work.

But where else can she go?