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Summary
Unwilling to believe, Hinata turned his head just ever so slightly to get a better look at the man standing at the trash receptacle. His dark hair hung slightly in front of his eyes as he concentrated on tossing what was left from his food into the compost bin. Dropping his tray with a clatter on the counter, Hinata felt his throat begin to close in panic.
How? Here? Why would this be happening now? I don't understand? How is this possible?
