<strong>Kunoichi - Talking to Paul in the hallway, holding his towel</strong><br/><br/>Getting pulled to her feet snapped Kuno out of the little daze that she had settled into, and her eyes moved further up his body, locking onto his chest.  It was the best compromise she could come up with between looking at him and avoiding looking at his face, without seeming like she was staring anywhere less-appropriate.  Like down at his little transparent bag of toiletries, for example, which was failing to cover his- Ack!  Eyes on chest, eyes on chest!<br/><br/>"I-it's Kunoichi, actually."  The young woman managed to speak up, still focusing intently on not looking either down or up.  "Ku-No-Ichi.  Like the word for a female ninja."  And then something about it being a combination of the characters for 'sword' and 'woman', not that she could recall exactly where she heard that little bit of trivia from.  She hadn't even gotten a straight answer from her parents on why they had picked that particular name for her, other than some off-hand comments about the Ninja being big during the Eighties.  Things tended to get really quiet whenever she subsequently brought up the fact that she was born in the early Nineties...<br/><br/>When the towel was brought up, though, her focus then shifted down to the fluffy cloth in her hand, and her eyes widened again as she remembered what she was still holding onto.<br/><br/>"Ah!  S-sorry!"  She apologized, holding the towel back out for him to take again.  Once he had it, she began moving to slide back around him in the hallway.  "E-excuse me, please.  I-I was heading to my room for something..."  To relax for a few minutes...  Though now she was probably going to go and hyperventilate, instead.  "S-sorry for the trouble.  Uhm... enjoy your bath."<br/><br/>And then she was gone, bounding down the hallway and turning in at the very last room on the right.  Room 2-1.  Home.  A cramped little room with an even more crowded restroom, but my now the lack of space had become... familiar.  Cozy.  She could just rush in, let the weighted door shut itself behind her and the electronic lock relock itself automatically, (rather like most modern motels, actually,) and then stumble forward until she hit her mattress and faceplant into the warm, soft, cushiony goodness that was her pillow.  Though, this time, rather than turning over, she just lay there for a short while and let her heart rate drop back down to normal, trying to calm down and purge a few images from her mind.<br/><br/>Paul, he'd said his name was...  Paul Raike, one of the new assistants, right?  Working with him was going to be difficult if she kept picturing him naked whenever they crossed paths...