Her frame is quivering, and it gives out, her face on my uniform; she's leaning on me. Why do I care so much about her, when I have known her for far less than a day? What possessed me to wipe away her tears, when Tamaki would have done just as well for her? Why am I holding her in my arms, whispering "shh" as she sobs, worn down from all of the wrong that has been done her today.
I know it wasn't just that idiot Hikaru. His was the action that broke her, the catalyst. There were others: the yakuza wanna-be's, who think it's cool to pick on people; the girls who trip or push people in the hallway, but evaporate quickly enough to avoid blame or detection, jealous of the attention someone gets; the people who witness the wrongs apathetically, disgusting in the fact they will not act. No question she's strong, but nobody can withstand all of what she was subjected to today.
Still, it is unlike me to show emotions so readily. What is it about her?