O-Ren shoved off the screaming man she'd just liberated several fingers from, leaving the bloody gun there, despite the chance for more bullets. Thing was, guns just didn't come clean in the sink of a bullet train's tiny restroom.

As she passed Arya, bounding over a puddle of blood, she reached out, grabbing for sleeve or wrist or hand. Almost there. Tangentially, she realized they would have to get new clothes in Tokyo. Arya would probably hate it.

She took a bit of a tumble, having to pretty much jump into the train, but at least people moved the hell out of her way.