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Finally letting go, Mika trotted off toward the permanent wooden stall, catching sight of the large sign emblazoned with the word “Scraps”. A twitch curled her lip into a crooked smile as she felt a wave of strange giddiness wash over her. She had always hated the corny little name for their shop but loathe though she was to admit—even to herself—she was still going to miss seeing it every day.
Before she could make it all the way inside, Mika was wrapped up in the rough embrace of her father. She struggled—or at least, pretended to for a moment before relenting and letting him nuzzle her cheek, his short, scraggy beard tickling her all the while. With her free arm, she plopped her satchel on the counter then wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight.
Their shared moment did not last quite so long.
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