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It took a lot of effort to convince Ryuji to leave. At first, he wouldn't budge. We were standing around for nearly ten minutes scouting the area, when a guard came out to confront us. It required some fast-talking on my part to convince him we were looking for someone, and simply unsure of which room she lived in. I informed the guard, a Tadashi Nikaido, that we would be back later.
It was almost three in the afternoon now. The two of us sat in a Pizza Hut trying to formulate a plan. It was too early in the day for a normal person to be home from work, but the Velvet Apartments taught me that a lot of people didn't work normal schedules. Any number of things could go wrong and we had nowhere near enough information. "So lets get started."
Ryuji told me everything he knew about Kamoshida while I looked up his information on Youtube. There were dozens of interviews on nearly every platform. Apparently the guy was famous. He was the PE teacher at Shujin, but he was also once an Olympic Volleyball Player. After winning the gold in 2012, he'd undergone a botched surgery, forcing him to retire at seventeen. Two years later, he started working at Shujin as an assistant coach. The full-time PE teacher was mysteriously injured three months later, forcing the old man out of commission.
"Kamoshida more or less runs Shujin now. The principal listens to everything he says. Dozens of people reported him when he first got the job, but Principal Kobayakawa doesn't care. Doesn't listen to what anyone says. No one even bothers complaining anymore. Shit's pointless."
"You said he broke your leg, what happened?"
Ryuji is quiet, his eyes hard. For a moment, they seem to shift colors, changing to red, and I'm reminded of my cannibal. I quickly shake the thought away. Impossible. It was impossible. It couldn't be Ryuji.
He reaches for his phone and when he unlocks it, I can see that his background is a selfie. He pulls up the original on his camera roll and I'm a little stunned. Ryuji is on the left, winking into the camera. On the right is the blond foreign girl from my dream, presumably Ann. In the middle is a small, demure-looking girl with dark hair tied back into a ponytail. There's a small smile on her face, but dark bags ring her eyes. Her skin seemed to be flaking in several places, signs indicating she wasn't sleeping well. Telltale signs I was more than familiar with.
There are speckles of snow falling all around them but they're each holding a crepe, the ice cream perfectly maintaining its shape. "Her name was Shiho. She killed herself four months ago."
Something in me goes blank, as if I've forgotten the meaning of words. She killed herself. What did that mean? She killed herself? So she was dead? Dead. Did she regret it? Or was she glad to be free from the touch of whatever had driven her to despair? Did she think about her family? Her friends? Or were they simply a drop in the ocean of madness? Insanity. I unconsciously pull on the hem of my shirt.
"She'd been avoiding us for weeks. Ann cornered her one day after school, and found bruises everywhere. Her arms and legs were purple. Black, pretty much. There was a cast around her knee. She didn't tell us a thing, but I could guess what happened. Kamoshida liked to hit the players on the volleyball team. He did it to a lot of the guys. I knew someone who was out of school for a week with a fracture."
"Shiho didn't want us to know. That only pissed me off more. I literally ran to the gym during practice to kick his ass. Do you know what he did?" Ryuji's grip on his soda tightens. The can breaks apart, the edge of the tin slicing into his hand. A small stream of blood trails down his skin but he doesn't even seem to notice. Ryuji's eyes are far away, staring into the table, "The fucker laughed... He told me the bruises were nothing. He...He said..." Ryuji swallows, and I can see him force the anger down. "He said he'd destroyed her in other places too."
"I lost it. I wanted to kill him. I got one swing in before he jumped me. He shattered the bones in my leg. He probably would've broken the other one too if Shiho and Ann didn't drag me from the gym. They took me to the ER. The doc patched me up, but the results were ugly. My mom took one look at me and passed out. Hasn't woken up since. My dad took her to Finland for treatment but nothing works. Shiho jumped from the school rooftop the next day..."
A tear rolls down his face, followed by another, and then another. He's looking down, staring into the table at whats left of our meal. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to comfort him. All I can do it sit, and stare. He'd always seemed so carefree. Who knew he had all thiss heartbreak pent up inside him? "Ryuji..."
"I couldn't protect her... Not my mom. Not Shiho. She needed my help and I did nothing! I let her die!" He's screaming, pounding the table with his hands. The other patrons stare at us, clearly disturbed, but too afraid to do anything. I throw my arm over Ryuji's shoulder, trying my best to quiet him. It doesn't work. The tears continue to fall. "I can't let anything happen to Ann. Shit, I'll kill him this time if I have to..."
It's a little past 4:30 when we leave, shooed out by the manager. Ryuji has more or less calmed down. Anger is simmering just below the surface, but his eyes are dry. We didn't talk about the episode. Now was a time for action, and I'd formulated a plan.
As we scout the surrounding neighborhood, I call Kanji while I start explaining the basics to Ryuji, "I'll do most of the work. If Kamoshida sees you, the whole thing falls apart. There's no way he won't recognize you." Ryuji nods in agreement, his face pulled into a frown.
Kanji answers on the third ring. There's the chatter of people talking in the background, distorting his voice, "Hello?"
"Hey. We need your help with something. Are you free?"
Someone is shouting something at him, and he seems to respond to them before answering me, "I'm at a faculty party right now. It's probably going to last until about 7 tonight. What do you need?"
I sigh, calculating the time in my head. That was cutting it close. People returning from work would make it harder to break in. "Nothing. We just needed a ride in an hour or two."
"Sorry man. Wish I could help. Anything else you need?"
"Is Mr. Kamoshida with you right now?"
There's a pause on the other line while Kanji seems to be walking around and asking his co-workers a couple questions. A few minutes later, he's back to me, "Doesn't look like he's here. Why are you asking? He's not the nicest guy. Avoid him if you can."
I thank Kanji for his help before hanging up the phone. Bad, this was bad. "Kanji's at a faculty party and Kamoshida isn't there."
"So he's home?" Ryuji's face is stony, prepared for the worst outcome.
"Probably." I pull out my phone again, checking Google Maps for a few minutes before I find what I'm looking for.
About thirty minutes later, we're walking back to the apartment with a simple red cap on my head and an empty box of pizza in my hands. I order Ryuji to wait outside, hidden in some bushes below a balcony a little to the left of the main entrance. There are plenty of windows. If one of the residents just looked outside, he'd be spotted in no time at all. I walk up to the glass doors, waiting for them to slide open. The guard behind the desk is someone new. Lady luck was on our side.
"Can I help you?"
"Pizza delivery for Suguru Kamoshida?" I pretend to look at the receipt in my hand. "Suite 66."
The guard walks behind the desk, dialing a number into the phone. It rings twice before the man of the hour answers, and I finally hear his voice. It's deep, callous, obviously the voice of a grown man. There is anger raging inside me from Ryuji's story and I try my best to quell it. If I wasn't calm, there's no way Ryuji could be. I needed a clear head. This needed to work.
"There's a pizza delivery here for you, sir."
"I didn't order any pizza. Send him away." He promptly hangs up, and the guard looks at me apologetically. "Sorry, but you heard him. Must be some kids playing a prank."
I sigh, finishing the part. "Yeah. Happens a lot. Sorry to bother you."
The guard dips his head in a small bow while I walk out, dodging into the bushes next to Ryuji. "How'd it go?"
"He's home. Plan B." I hand him two of my knives and a sense of unease shoots up my spine. I push it away. Now wasn't the time to second guess my choices.
We crawl further around the building onto the other side where the road is sloped up, leading into a parking garage attached to the building. Another guard is sitting inside a stand.
"Why do you have these?" Ryuji is eyeing my knives suspiciously, flipping them around to examine them from all angles.
I think about my answer before I respond. After running away from my cannibal the first time Uncle Sojiro died, I'd felt defenseless. Weak. Guns were almost impossible to come by in Japan, so I'd started collecting knives. You could buy them online very easily. Before I knew it, I'd built a small collection. I never used them, but they made me feel safe. Placebo effect. "Self-defense. I was... robbed. Once. A long time ago."
He nods, and I call him on my phone so we have a connection going. He uses his good leg as a step and I move quickly, stepping on his thigh. I'm a few inches short when I try to reach for the ledge. Ryuji moves his hands up, holding my legs on his shoulders as he stands up. I jump for the last two inches I need, using the railing like a vault. I stick the landing and immediately crouch low on the balcony, pulling out my phone to check on Ryuji.
"Are you okay?" I whisper. There's some rustling from down below and I can imagine Ryuji get up.
"Fine. Good luck, bro." He whispers back.
"You too. Stay safe." I secure the phone back into my pocket while I check the door of the balcony. It's the glass sliding type where the lock is on the inside. I put a bit of pressure on the door and it doesn't budge. No dice then. The balcony is boxed in, separated from its neighbor on the left by a solid wall.
I peek over the top, checking to make sure the coast is clear before I climb onto the ledge. I'm not very high up, but the platform is thin. A balance beam. This is just a balance beam. I've done this a million times. I could walk a platform like this with my eyes closed.
I press my face against the wall separating me from the next balcony. There's nothing to hang onto, but I grab the wall in front of me, hugging it with all my strength as I move my leg onto the ledge on the other side. No handles. No dropmat. I push off the wall, propelling the rest of my body onto the second balcony. I jump from the ledge onto landing, crouched low.
I'd made it. I was alive. I could do this. I wasn't worthless.
The second landing is almost identical to the first. Clean, boxed in by walls on both sides. I try the door again. Locked. I curse under my breath and climb back onto the ledge. There's sweat on my hands, making them sticky. If I fell, I wouldn't die, but my parents would be furious. Dad would lock me away to keep me safe, even if that "safe" was inside an asylum. I move onto the landing, working the door.
Whoosh.
It slides open and I nearly fall inside, too relieved to think about the incredible luck involved. I grab my phone to send a message to Ryuji. "I'm in."
There is no sound on the other end. A good sign. It meant he was still in the garage. The apartment is empty as far as I can tell. It's clean, but cluttered. Packed to the brim with books and unfinished plastic models. I try my best to walk around them, wiping my face with my sleeve. A stack of dirty dishes sit in the sink. I move through the living room quickly, headed for the front door. A few pictures furnish the area around me. A middle-aged couple is depicted in a photograph with a black-haired baby in the woman's arms.
The hallway outside is carpeted. A dark blue, almost black. The walls are a soft tan, bare. No cameras. I wedge the door open while I check the other doors I can see. There are only 7. A door next to the elevator leads to the stairs. Nothing that leads to the parking garage. I send Ryuji a text with what I hope is the right information and wait.
Seconds turn to minutes.
One.
Two.
Four.
Seven.
Twelve.
Eighteen.
Twenty-Five.
Nothing. Our phone call has long since ended and Ryuji doesn't answer me when I try again. Panic rises in my chest. What if he'd been caught? What if the owner of this place came back? I'd be cuffed on the spot for breaking and entering.
*Brrrnng*
The noise causes me to jump until I realize its coming from an intercom on the wall. I hold the biggest button I see and the voice of the guard comes through on the other end.
"Good afternoon Ms. Amano. I'm surprised you're home. We have a boy down here who says he's delivering a pizza."
Ryuji... Thank all the creators in the world. "Let him up."
"..." The guard says nothing. My heart is pounding a million miles a minute while I wait for something to come. Did I mess up somewhere? Did he know?
After a full minute, I can't stand the silence anymore. I put some indignation in my voice to cover my fear. "What?"
"...Who are you? Ms. Amano lives alone."
"Her son. I'm visiting from college and there's nothing to eat." The lie spills from my lips before I have the chance to stop it. I was screwed. Utterly screwed. Her son?! Of all the things I could've picked, why didn't I say cousin or something? This was it. The end.
"Oh. Of course, so sorry. I didn't know you were visiting. I'll buzz him up right now." The guard hangs up before I have the chance to process my luck. That was close. Too close.
I exit the apartment quickly, heading for the elevators. Ryuji comes up alone and we take it to the sixth floor together. Luck. All of this was luck, but we could run out of that at any moment. "How did it go with the car?"
"It took me a while to find it but I ruined all the tires and messed up every inch of it. Red Jeep. 2nd floor."
I nod. Good. That was good. "Any cameras?"
"I don't know. Probably not." His flippant attitude almost pisses me off. If a camera caught him, Kamoshida would come after him again with the evidence. Forget expulsion, Ryuji would go to jail.
"Why didn't you check?!"
"I was in a hurry. And it's not important." He shrugs.
"Not important?!" I'm staring at him, shocked. "If you get cau-"
"I know." He gets out on the fifth floor, holding the door open for another minute. "I'm not important. I couldn't help my mom, and I couldn't save Shiho. Ann is the only thing that matters. Save her. No matter what."
The doors slide closed, and I travel up to the sixth floor by myself. This hallway is identical to the one on the second floor. Two large mirrors face the elevator when I walk out. Kamoshida's door is on my right, second door down. I walk up to it, buzzing the apartment. No one comes out, and I pound on the door a little harder.
When the door finally opens, man towers in the frame. He's well over six feet tall. Bulky. Muscles ripple over his arm and across his chest. He's wearing cargo shorts, but no belt or shirt. This had to be him.
Suguru Kamoshida.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Akira Amano. I live in 23 downstairs. My mom says someone was scratching up your car in the garage."
"My car?!"
"Red Jeep on the second floor right? That's what my mo-" Kamoshida lets out an angry roar, pushing me hard as he runs for the elevator. I fall onto the door on the other end of the hall and it holds me up. When I get my bearings together, Kamoshida's door is closing, clicking shut in its final moments.
I work the knob, and it turns. Still open then. May lady luck continue to bless me. I quickly call Ryuji. "All clear. He just ran for the garage. Hurry up."
The apartment is large, decorated in medals and trophies. There are hundreds of Kamoshidas hanging on the wall. Pictures of him practicing, standing on the podium, and smiling for a camera decorate the wall like paint. A kitchen is on my left when I walk in. There's a bathroom on the right. I hurry past the spacious living room to a closed door at the end.
Ryuji runs behind me, yelling. "Where's Ann?!"
"I don't know. This door's locked. Do you think she's on the other side?" Ryuji pounds on the door for a few seconds. "ANN!"
I pull him from the door. "Shut up! We're dead if someone hears us!"
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!"
I look around me, searching for some way in. Nothing catches my eye. "You're stronger than me. Try breaking the doorknob while I search the place."
Couch cushions, drawers, cabinets. I dig through every nook and cranny but there's nothing that even remotely looks like a key. Ryuji is ramming the door with his shoulder. I lock the front door. Hopefully that would stall Kamoshida, if only for a few minutes.
My phone vibrates as I'm checking the kitchen, and I see that it's a text. I can't read the name or the words: 有里湊.
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I̴̮̙͖̟͗́̾̄̀̒̀͢͟͠ͅn̢͙͉̲͔̗̳͒̀̌͒̄̄͊̀͆̆͟ͅ t̸̳̮̙͙̥̓̾͋̈͂̌̉͢͠h̖͓̭̬̠̠̔̏͌̓̏͋̌͗ȅ̴̟͖̬͙̲͂͋̎̕͜ f͇̳̗͊͗́͑̑͢ͅị̰͎͈̼̐̆͂͛̕͘͜r̸̹͉͕̜̙̱̊̑̄̆͝s̢͉̖̣̘̱̊̅̑͆̓͜͠ţ̴̳̤͎̝͎̳̭͑̅̀̂̀͘ ť͍͚̥̮̦͎͍͇͕́̾̿͋́͂͘̚͠i̡̢̲̦̲̲͖͊̓͆̾̾̍̕͞ͅm̸̛͉̖̰̟̹̞̄̾̆̒́̄̇̋͘ͅë̛͖͙͈̪̼̱̲̭̈́̄̀̈l̯͖͔̼͔̺͖͆̈̉͌̒̉̚̚i̷͕̳͓̹͍̣̓͗̂͂̋̽̀̽͒̕n̬͈͙̠̲̓͆͛͋̈͆̐͘̕ę̶̼̩͕̭̌̑̾͛̍̎͟ w̵̡̧̞̻̰͕̻̟̪̠̄̊̿̕͘͞h̢̪̜͔̣͖̑͂̏̋͞ȩ̨̧̛̭̦̩͖͓̈̅̔͗̈̀͞͝r̨̝̣͈͉̼͔̗̘̦̔͌̕͡͞͡ȩ̼̩̺̦͚̭̫̌͗͂̒͐̈͟ w̪̫̝͈̾̑͟͜͜͡͞͝e̡̨̧̧̯͉̩͓͗́̍̈̉̚ m̸̳̙͇̩̉̅͂͒̊͜e̷̢̬͔̱̺͗̀̇̄̚ṱ̯͇̲̯̭͓̻͍͑͒̈́̈͛͠͠͡,̸͓͈͎͎͓͇͉̳͕̐͗̏̈́̾̍̊̌̓͠ t̶̪̰̲̳͉̖̥̯̒̑̐́̐͜͢ḩ̴̣̦̦̓̎͛̑̐͑͜ͅe̲̭̰͙̒̈́̒̀͘͜͡ t̴̡͍̲̖̻͚͈̉͋̑͒͑h̸̢̝͈̰̤̀̒̅͋̑̏̕ř̵̫̖̬̱̿̏̊́̀͢͞ḙ̷͔̭͖̬͓͉͛͌͆̇̾̑̚͟͞e̡͔̖͈̘̹͛̑̿͊͂͗̋͜͝ o̢͖̣̼̗̟̻̿̑̑̒͛̔͒͐̓͡f̳̭̪͙̥̣̠̟̪͋̄́̑̊̐́͋͊͂ y̨̢̨͙̬̠̜͙̥͗͂̈̇̃̒̿̾͢͡o̴̢͙͔̳̜̫͕̐̌͌̽͋ͅư̷̡̧̯̞̪͈̪̳̗͐́͐͑̇͘͜͡ d̡̨̥̻̪͕̞͔̤͑̌̓̈̐̈̓̕͢ị̸͓̮͎̮̽͛͆̓̋̈́͐̀͘ȩ̘̼̼̝̤̊̈̔̿͡͡d̶̢̧̺̜̩̠̝̹̤̅̈̓̍̉͂͆̒͢͝͠.̴̨̨̛͙̫̰̬̜̪͐̾͗̑̀̓̌́̊ V̢̺̫̰͈̺̗͌̾͑̊̅̅̈͋̕͟í̵̜̬͍̞̾̒̋̓͢͡c̡̙̤̮̥̬̻̘͂͌̃̒͆͋t̢̢̝̻̞͕͔̺̊̋̈̇̈́͒̐̓͢͠͡i̸̧̞̝̝̦̬͇͋̂́̈́̈͡m̧̙̤͕͎͉̔̔̀̓̿͠͡s̶̡̜̗͈̜̦̑͂͋̓͗̓̂̐͝ o̧͉͍͕̣͂̓̅͐͊̇̇̾f͕̠̝̺͓̻̗̳̃̀̓̆̍́ t̮͔̰̹̠̲̑̌̓̊͛̒̑͋͘h̴̘̯̱͈͌̓͗͆̕͘͜ë̟̪̦̝̞́̓̓̇̃͋͜͢ b̶̧̜̰͉͕̱̬͙̓̄͗̎̋͟͢͠u̶͕̫͔̖̻͓͊͗̌͛́̾̆͠t͔͇̣͓̥͓̳̠̄̆̐͌̈́̓͆͊̕ͅc̡̢̧̫̝̲͓̖̜͈̐̈́̅̓̏́̆̌̽h̵̹̲̺̭͎̭͚̟̞̃͊͆͆̌̽̒͞͞ͅe̢̡͈̬̻͙̰̭͊͑͌̇̚͜͝ŕ̻̺͈̦͔̦̫̝̩͊̀̃̅̊̍͑͝.̸̢̧̜̦̣̠̪̺̪̬̀̑͛̓̅̇͌͂ Ŗ͕̳̯͙̼̪̭̬̦͒̋̉̃̊̍͛̚̕y̲̥̱̜̦̱̣̺̳̐̇́͗̍̈͌u̷̡̱̫̝̝̽͆͐͗̉̿̇j̷̧̢͙̣̯̈͋͂́̀̈̉̕i̜͈̰͕̠͛̓́̎̍͢͡ d̘̫͓̞̜̘̘͇̥̓́͋̓̉͟i̛͖͖̭̘̖̇̅̐͝ͅe̵͔̦̹̘̪̾̆́̈́̇͟͡͠ḏ̴̨̧̛͎̂̾̀̈́͐́̔́̕͜ f͙̭̮̼̰̓͋̽̅͆̑̕͡͝͡į̬͖̝͎̋͒̓̽͐̀̒̔͠r̛͇̮̩̮̝̽̽̀͌ṣ̡̢̱͔͖̲͇͆̽͆́̍̚͘t̶̡̳̖̣̜̬͍̤͎̉̑͗̓̐͆͒̌̌̕ͅ.̢̩̰̮͖͎͈͍͕̌̓̅̈̑̐̕̚ L̛̟̬̩͍̝͙̜͍̂̌̿͂̋͆́͗ͅͅõ̶̧̢͓͍͕̼͛̂́̂͐̓̃̃͝s̯͉͓̼̻̺̈́͆͋̍͜͜͟͠͠͡ͅṫ͚̥̯̲̦̦̠̝̺͉͛̏̔̕̕ a̧̮̫̼̻̥͕̿̆́̓͋̇̚ c̵̡̛̭͔͎̖̺͗̈́͛̈́̂̑͜h̵͉̟̞̙͓̋̃̇͌͝ͅu̢̬̖̮̘͙̔̐̑̒͆̽͛̕̚͜͟n͕͈͖̹̮̤͉̤̭̑̍̋́̌͂͡͝͡ḳ̶̹̻̝͙̲̤̌̓̂̈́̀̽̕ ơ̸̢͈̭͍͚̩̻̏̏͌̈̂̌̕f̱̻̱̘̥̣̩͂̓̅̔̚̚ ḩ̨͚̯̤̹̳̰́̀̑̊͒̌͠i̢̢̜̳͇̩̗̰̓̑̀̿͗̕͘̕͡͠ș̡̢̪̫̮̲̱͉̪̀̓̆́̐̊ f̷̞͓͔̭͓̗̰̪̀̏̎̓̓́͆͞ą̨̢̗̻̰̣̃̔̃͢͠͝ͅͅč̶̢̱̼͓̺̓̑́̐͟è̴̯̭̳̥͔͔̫̪̖̔̒̄̏̇͝.̡̘͔̣͈̍͋̋̇̽̀̓͜͟ T̶̢̜̳̻̠̜̫̩̃́̏̀̇͘̕͠h̸̙̪̯̣͈͋̅̽̑̉͞ê̢̠͎̜̱̄̃̌̚͢͟ņ̶̭̻̝̤̤͕̦̈́̌̋̑̎́̎͐̂͢͟͠ ŷ̵͎̱̞̘̱̤̒͊̽̕ơ̢̘̽̿͆͗́̚͘͜͟ͅu̸̙̼̭̞̮͒̃̕͘͟͡ͅ å̷̢̯̲͍̞̘̓̂̀̑͠n̶̡͇͎̙̽̏͗̀̏̍͘͜d̢̛͙͎̩̖̮͆̑̍̓̃̒̾̚ ṱ̷͎͔̞̓͋́̕̚͜͞͝h̤̻̹̗̘͓̜̔̋̆̀̿̌̈́̇́͢͡ȩ̷̢̖̘͎̺̯͐̒̀͐̀͊̓̕̕͢ g̸̡̞͉̹͙̰̓̽̓̔̅̾͌͞ͅi̸̠̖̻͈̋͐͛̏̂̆̍̓̈́̓͟r̸̡̠͙͕͓͇̖̊̐̏̂̆͋̊̑͘l̷̢͙̹̻̠̹̖̬̰̹̈́͌̀̿̑͐̈́́̄.̢̖̤̺̼͎̞̀̓͒͋̀̄͂̾̄͢ I̞̦̺͔̳̰͈̔͛̇͒͠'̨̹̯̥͔͇̿̈͒͋̒̒́́̓͡m͚͍̞̟̬̖̜͚̱̈̃̓̐͝ c̨̣̦̭̪̩̟̤̀͗́̌̒̚ō̧̱̘̙̺͛́̊̌̀̕m̴̨̢͙͍͉̓̄̃̂͊͘̕͟͟͠ͅĭ̶̛̼̺͔̗̬̫͍̿̑̄̀͜n̷̝̹̭͎̼̞͒̐̿̿͊̊͆͝g̱͖̘̫̱͍͐̈̈͆̏̈͜ ț̴̺̻͕̩̜̑̾̅̂̄͟o̯̺͓̪̠̙̜͑̿̿́̚͟ p̧̢̺̟̰̼̆̈́̑͆͘͘͢͞͠͝i̶͉̣͈͖̖͕̤͛̐̅̃̎͜c̗̻͚̠͈͖̲̋̎̏͑̔̈̓̓͟ḳ̡͖̗̫̙͕̯̀̀̃͘͞͡ y̷̯͖̤͎̟͇͋̔̒͐̈̋̈͐͘ȏ̡̢̝̥̤͑̓̊̀̎͡͝u͖̫̹̲̰͈̅̇̒̂͗̎͋̕͟͢͞ ų̟̞͉͕̩͖͈̖̌̐͐̀͋̚p̸̛̤͉̻̬̮̺͇͇̈́̋͌̐̔͘̕ a̬͚̫̠̤͚͙̰͊̌́̉̍͋͑̚͜͟t͚̞̬̮̟͑̏̔̃́̾̇̒͠͡ 7̱̯͙̰̪̞̮̬̌̓̿̓̈̓͜͝p̷̧͔̦̟̬͈̈̑͊́́̓̑m̧͉̘̞͙͙̍̎̔͑̚͟͝.̮̥̭͙̹͇̜͆͗̀́͑͒͋͒͟ S̶̡̳̫̳̦͈̄̂͌̈́̈̃͡͠t̵̢̢̹͕̹̾̎̑̉̄́̕͠a̵̛̼̖̭͕͉̭̿͌̋̿̉̆̏̒͞ŷ̶̧̡̛̰̰̬̌͌̏͗̄̈́̇ ī̴̱̻̺̟̗̼̜̄̄͋̈͛͘̚͟͞ͅn̨̡̹̤͍̣͂͋̽̃̔͛̚͢͜͟͡͠d̼̣͕͇͕̮̠͛͂̿͛̆͑̚͘͟ơ̡̲̞̥̝̱͌̀̿̉́͘͝ͅo̫̩̝̜̼̭̞̼͍͌̃̒̓̚͟ȑ̸͓̥̮͈̯̠̼͈̩͒̆͑̇̇͟ş̶̜̱̼̣̼̫̜̀͋̽͋̓̅́̕͘͜ ų̷̛͈͚̯̠̭̀͊̂͗̏̂̐̍͢ñ̷͙̙̘̙̝̤̹͗͛̐̎̏͂͜͝͠ͅt̵̨̛͖̗̩͍̟̭̩̘̦͌̈̾̽i̶̫̘̟̭̿͐̍́̐͟l̵̖̪̮̥͙̳͇̒̈͆͆̎̂̓͝ͅ t͓̦̬͖̫̼̂̑́̐̂͜ẖ̦͙͎͔̦͙̏̌͗͂̃e̢̮̠̩̝̱͐̽̿̀̂͒̓̓n̵̡̝̪̘͚͑̃̉̊̋̊.̸̧̛̝͖̠̼̰̤͖̞̳̔̋̽̌̔̔͠͝ Ì̧̬͈͇͍̯͈͌͐͐̇͆̚͢͞'̶̢̛̙͇̣̉́̄̊̅̇̋̐͟ͅͅl̢̛̼̣̰̘̩͐͊̓͛̊͘l̴̢̨͕̦͗̆̿͌̎̇̐̕͞ͅ c̶̳̯̪̥̖̩̦̞̘͋̌́̏͡a̴̖̱͚̪͐̃̃͛́̀̃͋͞ͅl̖͕̭̯̪̓̒͒̈́̆̆͡͠ľ̻̻̻͇̲͙̥͙̒͗̊̈́͑͌̌̑͡ͅ y̡̡̧̟̣̜̤͕̙̥͌͗̽͌̄͊̋ó̦̙̟͓͍͖̲͉͍̻̋̾̂̃͡͡͝u̶̧̠̙̯̼̐́͑̓̀ w̡̧̩͙̗̮͉̅̌́̋̄͌͘ͅḩ̰̥̩̟̥̏͗̇͑̍̈́̉͝e̡̖͕̦͈̙͐̿́͂̌͒̄̍̌͡n̛͎͙͚̥͇̝̍́͊̇̈̕͟͢͡ Ì̷̡̠͙̗̞̖̠̙̰͆̒́̋̊͘͝͠'̡̖̳̰̬̥̐͂̇͆̀̔̓͗̀m̨̺̤̯̜̣̮͒͗̀͂̈̚̕̕ ṋ̴̙̭̭̳̼̟̪͉̫͂̈́̉̑̌̀ę̛͈͖̘̙̠̫̦̝̼̍͋́̎a̛̱͚͚̦̭͕̱̗̭̓̃͌̿̚ŗ̴̞͔̩̙̠̰̻̩̠̇̍̾̀͡͝b̵̩̻̱̜̬̠̩͋͑͑̅́̾̌̚͠y̶̜̠͉͉͙͔͗̂͗̓͐͒͋̉̍.̤͎̮̘͇̬̜̈͑̉͂̃͂̇͝ """"
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I try reading the words and fail. They're a jumble of code. The number goes straight to voicemail. There's no quirky automated message. Just a beep noise that tells me it's recording which immediately tells me whose voicemail it is. Minato. What did he want? I debate having Ryuji read the message to me, but think better of it. There was a chance he talked about time traveling, and I couldn't take the chance that Ryuji would learn about that here.
I leave Minato a voicemail and go back to Ryuji. "Any luck?"
"NO! Gah!" He pounds on the door again, but it doesn't budge. "We're running out of time."
Then, the front door began to rattle.
You have progressed in Ryuji's Quest: Lovers. You have completed Task Two: Entering the Tower. [4]
You have paused the adventure. Ryuji's (Captain Kid's) stats at this point.
Knowledge: 3 (Can do math. Does not make logically sound choices.)
Strength: 5 (Can carry a girl for a few blocks. Can not run with said girl)
Agility: 3 (A slow jog is okay. Can't run. Dodging ability minimal)
Durability: 6 (Can walk away from being hit by a slow moving car. Will not walk away from a beating.)
[Flag] Remains the same. Quest is still in progress. Plans may be adjusted at this time.
Navi's Sale is currently inactive.