[She's a civilian, a child-- and yet, she's walking closer to him like she doesn't fear him at all. He knows how he looks, with the outfit and the arm, the knives.
Who the hell is this girl?
He shakes his head, though, after a moment; admitting to that isn't smart, and yet he can't not. "I don't know who you are", he thinks, "but you look like I should". How many more times will it happen, people looking at him like they know him, and moreover, like he should know them?]