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[ homura ] (resetting) wrote in silverage,

She didn't notice that one of the many people on the sidewalk was coming close to her until she'd already been tapped on the shoulder – but when she felt the tap, Homura turned to look back over her shoulder, startled at first. She should have been watching better––paying better attention––but she was off. Everything was off. At least the blonde western woman didn't seem like a threat, holding out that cup of steaming hot tea. Homura's first instinct, the jump in her stomach and the fight-or-flight response, eased, and she managed to only look mildly shocked.

It did take her a moment to formulate an actual thought, and to put that thought into words, though––"New York?" America, New York, to Homura's somewhat patchy understanding of North American geography and culture they were pretty much one and the same. She had stopped walking by now, and turned her entire body to face the woman in front of her. "But that's––it's not, I'm not sue it's even possible. How did you…" Know to answer Homura's question? Know that she could really use some kind of comfort just then? Even if she would not admit it to herself, she probably really could have used a comforting cup of tea (even if she defined tea a bit differently than Rose did). Or how did she know that Homura was lost, and hadn't even the faintest idea where she was, aside from 'somewhere Western'. She spared a worried glance for the street - had this woman seen, had she noticed something unusual? People usually didn't, when magic was afoot - magical girls and witches tended to choose isolated places for their battles, by and large, and to retreat inside their own little worlds, and so Homura had never actually had to come to terms with trying to keep her powers a secret.

(And there had been that time when, giddy and young and stupid, she'd announced it to Madoka's entire class. But the less she thought about that time, the better.)

The tea was still hanging there - Homura didn't want to be rude and refuse, so she reached out with both hands and accepted the cup, bending head and shoulders in a slight bow. She took a breath and demanded of herself that she grab hold of herself and get recomposed; gain composure enough to be polite, to fall back on stock language to see her through while she was still completely lost; "You didn't need to go to the trouble, but I appreciate it."