As she turned away, her gaze snagged on a scene across the row of stalls.
A greasy, middle-aged man was leaning heavily against a young girl, his hand wandering uncomfortably low on her waist. The girl looked petrified, her face pale, but she seemed frozen, unable to find her voice.
Kira moved before she had consciously decided to, and shoved herself between the man and the girl.
"Hey! Get your hands off her!" Kira snapped.
The man, red-faced and smelling of cheap alcohol, sneered at her. "Mind your own business, little girl. She's enjoying it."
"She's clearly not. Leave her alone or I'll make you," Kira hissed.
The drunk man laughed, raising an eyebrow. "You will make me?" His smile turned lewd as his eyes rake across Kira's posture.
He reached towards her face, but Kira slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!"
