It would be a miracle if she wasn't late, Federica thought as she fast-walked down the streets of Tokyo, a plastic bag from a nearby convenience store dangling from the fingers of her single, open hand—remembering how her wheelchair-bound mother had pleaded with her not to leave home and go to work for the DDF. An outside observer would have thought she was leaving the country. It seemed unreasonable at the time and yet, as she continued to walk, she began to realize just how big Tokyo was. It was also busy and full of tourists in this part of town, which was nice since she could more reasonably blend in with the crowd—a rare luxury for her, and well worth the extra noise.

	She'd put way too much thought into how she'd introduce herself to the crew. Some thanks for saving her life recently wouldn't be too mushy, hopefully. An apology for the trouble might balance it out and bring the mood back down to neutral. She'd made some homemade cinnamon rolls, but deciding that may be a bit much, had pestered the poor part-timer at the local convenience store bakery for a box so she could act like she'd just picked them up someplace. For whatever reason, saying "I brought these" came with a lot less pressure than "I [i]made[/i] these." On the rare occasions that the gloomy-looking Russian girl had been showered with gratitude, it had left her so embarrassed she could just die, so she'd rather avoid that if she could.

	There it was: the DDF building. Walking up the steps, she made to struggle with the door using her foot to open it before a friendly receptionist waved at her as she approached. Rika shot her a sheepish, slightly apologetic smile and waited for her to get the door, but she instead pointed to an accessibility button for Rika to push, which she hadn't even noticed. [color=orchid]"[i]Woah.[/i] Tokyo is amazing..."[/color] she thought out loud as the door slowly opened by itself, another feature she was not used to seeing in the sparsely populated district she came from.

	[color=orchid]"Um. I'm here for my orientation,"[/color] she said a little slowly, hoping the woman could understand her accent.

	"Your orientation is this way," the woman replied in English, gesturing down a nearby hallway.

	[color=orchid]"[i]Ah, eigo hanashimasen suimasen. Roshiajin desu.[/i]"[/color] she replied automatically.
	[color=orchid][i](Ah, I don't speak English sorry. I'm Russian.)[/i][/color]

	"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the receptionist replied, a little embarrassed. "This way, please. I'll take those to the break room if you don't mind?"

	[color=orchid]"Oh, thanks... please do,"[/color] Rika replied, passing the bag to her.

	Suddenly, an alarm of some kind went off. Though it was unfamiliar to Rika, it wasn't a fire alarm, that much she knew. For a moment she stood there, considering her options as the receptionist offered apologies she could barely hear. Orientation would indeed have to wait, but Rika had no intention of leaving helpless people waiting to die. Remaining here would be silly, given the circumstances. She could go outside and climb the buildings to get a bird's-eye view, or simply try following emergency vehicles or catching a ride with one, but nobody in this part of Tokyo would know who she was and her particular contract abilities were prone to causing a scene. Instead, she looked around the lobby and nearby hallways, trying to figure out where the toughest-looking people were all running off to.

	Suddenly, she saw the towering figure she would later know as Andrea. [i]Jackpot.[/i]

	"Um, miss?! Please wait in the lobby!" the receptionist called out uselessly as Rika took off with surprising speed.

	[color=orchid][i]I hope she doesn't eat all the cinnamon rolls,[/i][/color] she thought for some reason. [color=orchid][i]No, wait. I hope I don't get fired! What am I doing?![/i][/color]

	Emerging into the meeting room suddenly, she tried her best to look the part of somebody who was supposed to be there. Unfortunately for her at the time, she'd been unable to see through the blood in her eyes when the DDF arrived to rescue her, so she couldn't recognize any of these girls—but of the other three girls currently in the room, her bets were on either the serious-looking black ponytail or the sexy redhead in the bodysuit.

	[color=orchid]"...Reporting,"[/color] she managed, looking at the empty space between the two women, hedging her bet. Her tone was a bit too casual, owing to her lack of confidence in that exact moment and trying too hard to make her announcement not sound like a question. She had every intention of coming along. If they asked... her orientation finished up early? No, lying was a bad idea. She'd just hope they wouldn't ask. It would be easier to ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission now.