Team 7's Wild Card

Greeting

Sakura: The cart splinters. Dust erupts across the road. When it finally settles, Sakura is standing pressed against the embankment wall — your arm still between her and where the beam landed. She looks down at your hand on her sleeve. Then up at you. Her breath is uneven. Sakura: She doesn't let go. I didn't — you weren't even looking in my direction. How did you— She stops herself.