Sokila quietly poked at the little music player, which seemed to surge with hidden power.
"So...what now...?"
Theodore, holding the music player in his hands, sighed with remorse; with a strange reluctance, he handed it over to Elizabeth.
Sokila tilted her head. "Senpai...?"
Elizabeth, with an uncharacteristically subdued display, simply smiled.
"Now, little one? We simply wait for...someone to make the delivery."
The quirky Attendant held the MP3 player aloft, as though it were a hallowed chalice.
"We would do it ourselves, but..."
Sokila frowned.
"But what?"
The voice of their master broke through their internal musings.
"A great deal of power was expended to create that which lies at the Velvet Room's periphery," Igor explained. "Now, only you—one whose bond with a Guest is currently actualized—are capable of leaving."
Sokila blinked; she had not been aware of just how much Elizabeth, Margaret, Lavenza, and Theodore had sacrificed to create the 'dream arena'. "Really?"
"Indeed." Igor leaned forward, his enigmatic grin indicative of a strange amusement. "So many choices will soon be made: what consequences will come of them? Only time will tell..."
The faint haze of blue began to brighten-
xxxx
/Friday: September 25, 2015/
/Courtyards, Hakone Academy/
It was slated to rain again, that day; as such, Shinji Ikari had elected to go on an early jog, to clear his mind after yesterday's heady events and conversation.
He was not the only one doing so; as he stopped at a bench to stretch his muscles, a conversation between two other students filtered through.
"-can't believe I didn't win..."
"Come on dude, get over it."
"Neither Narukami nor Amamiya-senpai were participating...it was my chance..."
"Nobody expected those teachers to participate. Who knew they would have been so skilled?"
"The bass I caught was eleven kilos!"
"Yoshizawa-sensei's brown trout was eighteen kilos. Kawakami-sensei's rainbow trout was nearly twenty. It wasn't your day."
"Urgh..."
Shinji blinked, briefly recalling the last time he had heard someone mention said contest, back on the 15th. Oh...looks like it already happened. He had been so busy with everything else that it had slipped his mind entirely. Oh well, he mentally shrugged. Maybe next time...
He continued his invigorating morning jog.
xxxx
/Misato's Apartment, Tokyo-3/
Misato Katsuragi quietly yawned, absentmindedly preparing breakfast whilst Mana Kirishima finished freshening up for the day. Gotta remember that I'm having drinks with Ritsuko tonight, she mused, honestly looking forward to a more casual event. With Saturday being upon them tomorrow, Mayumi would also be free to come back to the apartment, much to Mana's delight. I need to get a definitive answer about whether or not she wants to arrange a meeting with her cousin. Just one more thing on top of the pile...notwithstanding the other surprise she had woken up to.
(At some point last night, Shinji Ikari had sent her several texts: all of them summarizing his brief encounter with Ryoji Kaji's Shadow in Kyoto Prefecture after that day's mission. He had left off with a relatively pithy 'If you want to talk more about it, please let me know.')
Not that long ago, she would have already called Shinji the moment she had woken up. But now...she was trying to at least be somewhat circumspect. I still haven't found anything truly useful out of those tapes. True, there had been lots of footage of various animals—Pen-Pen definitely included—being led to and from various cells within the Himmel facility, but nothing that could truly be called a smoking gun. She had a definite time limit on those: the end of September. If only I wasn't the Warden, I could have been finished by now...damn you, Akechi...
At that moment, a message came through.
Ritsuko: Misato.
Ritsuko: The MAGI actually compiled a video log regarding your request from yesterday.
Ritsuko: Check your e-mail.
Misato blinked, recalling her request for surveillance on Goro Akechi. That was fast.
Misato: What's on it?
Ritsuko: Don't know. You called it an "internal investigation", remember? So it's officially not my business.
Ritsuko: Too much work on my plate as it is.
Misato: way to be boring, ritsky ._.
Ritsuko didn't reply, leaving the conversation there. Well...might as well take a quick look. Setting the pan to a low heat and covering the stir fry with a lid, Misato strolled back to her bedroom, opening her laptop to check her account. Sure enough, there was an attachment sent to her by Ritsuko, comprised of a simple video file. The body of the message simply read 'REQUEST ACKNOWLEDGED. REQUEST PROCESSED. REQUEST COMPLETED.' "I wonder what they found," she murmured to herself, opening it up and clicking 'play'.
Interestingly enough, a single message played first, in utter silence: mere white text on a black background: CAUSE AND EFFECT; ACTIONS AND CONSEQUENCES; THESE ARE FUNDAMENTAL ASPECTS TO HUMAN EXISTENCE. THAT ONE'S CHOICES SHOULD MAKE AN IMPACT IS SOMETHING WE BELIEVE TO OUR UTMOST. AFTER ALL, PLAYING IT SAFE CAN ONLY WORK FOR SO LONG: RISKS MUST BE TAKEN. SO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION AS YOU WILL, MISATO KATSURAGI.
"...well that seems awfully dramatic for a supercomputer to say," Misato muttered, as footage began to play; the time stamp showed that it was from the evening of Thursday, July the 30th.
The video first showed Goro Akechi in reality, emerging out of a building which housed on of the Task Force's local portal points. Although a light shower was ongoing, she could nonetheless make out a striking hat that clashed horribly with his baggy sweater. "Heh. Get smoked," she chortled, only to realize that she had never actually seen him with it. So...you had a go-to disguise, huh? It was effective, to be sure: his ensemble made him look like a slovenly punk instead of the prim and proper A.T. Agent he had been known as. She watched patiently as the video log switched perspectives to keep Akechi in the frame, eventually leading him to a restaurant two blocks away: Jazz Jingisukan. "Been a while since I've been there," she said, watching as Akechi entered; although there was apparently no surveillance on the inside, the camera from across the street nonetheless had a perfect view through the large windows at the front of the restaurant. Through image enhancement, she could see Akechi sit down at a table for two, putting in an order.
So focused was she on Akechi, that she blinked with utter surprise when the footage zoomed back out. Huh? A newcomer in a hoodie and holding an umbrella entered the restaurant. When they sat down at Akechi's table and lowered the hood of their garment, the outline of frizzy hair rang a bell. "...wait a minute. Is that...?" The newcomer and Akechi talked for some time; although Misato couldn't see the newcomer's face, she could see Akechi's: he exhibited annoyance, irritation, and an odd liveliness that anyone who had known 'Warden Akechi' would have called foreign to his character. "...you know him..." murmured Misato, watching as the meal eventually concluded. When Goro Akechi stood up from the table, the newcomer titled their head to look up: the external camera caught the person's side profile, showing a boy's face wearing familiar glasses. "...don't you, Ren Amamiya?"
Ren Amamiya knew Goro Akechi.
Goro Akechi knew Ren Amamiya.
That footage had been from the day before the road trip...the one that Amamiya had intentionally volunteered to chaperone for, ostensibly to satisfy his summer obligation for Hakone Academy's 'Kouhai Summer Assistance Program'. I'll bet that's why you did it, she sardonically thought.
In her mind, she recalled the chart that she and Sakamoto had conjured up mere days ago: a line now connected Goro Akechi and Ren Amamiya. Well then...this changes things. But how...?
She would need to get a second opinion.
xxxx
Shinji Ikari — after eating some bread and drinking his milk at lunch, confessing that he wasn't that hungry after a larger than usual breakfast — had elected to spend the remainder of the meal period on the rooftop. The showers had faded, leaving an overcast sky; for some reason, the mood to continue reading The Tragedy of Hamlet had struck amidst the autumn gloom.
Alas, he had apparently stopped reading at a poor time two weeks ago, because picking up in Act III, Scene IV, he immediately read of how Hamlet stabbed Polonius through the arras. Yet, Hamlet's ire against his mother carried on; even with Polonius barely dead, Hamlet unleashed a vicious tirade against Gertrude, stopping only upon the return of his father's Ghost. He was now knowledgeable enough to get at some of the context with lesser difficulty: as Hamlet spoke to the Ghost, his mother thought him mad. Yet even so, Hamlet's adominitions regarding Gertrude's relationship with Claudius continued. Despite her confusion and her emotional turmoil, she seemed far more reasonable than Hamlet did...who nonetheless spoke with righteous conviction.
With Act III finally completed, Shinji couldn't help but wonder at his own life. Even if the scenarios weren't exactly the same, he was also conflicted on so many things. Am I making the right decision? Or am I simply mad, and haven't realized it? The never-ending curse of Shinji Ikari was to second-guess his own actions and motivations in perpetuity, it seemed.
With mere minutes left in the lunch period, Shinji Ikari stood up, only to blink with surprise at the sight of someone standing behind him. "Nagisa-kun?"
Kaworu smiled. "You were so absorbed in your book, I didn't have it in me to interrupt you. Quite the macabre story, though." With red eyes glimmering with an impossible light (a trick of the imagination, Shinji somehow convinced himself), Kaworu asked, "This Hamlet seems like quite the complicated fellow."
"...that's putting it mildly," admitted Shinji. Thoughts of older conversations with Nagisa came to the fore...
(August the 8th, 2015: after the Okayama Summer Smash's conclusion, the Boxing Club had gone to a yakitori restaurant to celebrate. At a table for four, the boys of Room 23 chatted away. Amidst a conversation about Kaworu's fondness for boxing, the silver-haired boy had begun to opine with a bitter smile. "Well...as we've discussed before, we all have issues with our fathers, in some form or another...but at least you all have a sense of clarity, whether it be for good or ill. I...do not know if my own father is alive or not. Does he remember me? Does he even care? Is he perhaps dead, and I just don't know it? Or perhaps he's mired in circumstances far too terrible to imagine?" He took another bite from his skewer, this time with a bit more force than usual. As he finished chewing, he added, "There is a great deal of ambiguity there...and quite frankly, my life is ambiguous enough as it is." Clenching his hand, his red eyes stared solemnly at his knuckles. "At least in this small way...even if it ultimately amounts to nothing meaningful...I have some clarity. For what can be more clear than to feel your fist slam into the body of another? What can provide more of an epiphany, than to feel an opponent strike back with their own? What better place to find understanding, than in a ring where words have no place? At least...that's how I like to think about it, at any rate.")
(July the 6th, 2015: after school, at Neo Hagakure, the boys at Room 23 had opened up to each other about how Kaworu, Toji, and Kensuke had come to know each other. Amidst it all, Nagisa had remarked, "Let us simply say that I am a ward of the state...and that it has been many years since I've even seen the face of my father.")
...and given the nature of what he had just read, insight was gained. "Nagisa-kun...you once spoke to me about the importance of control...of self-mastery..."
Kaworu arched an eyebrow. "I seem to recall something of that nature."
"...what's your father like? If you can even talk about him...?"
Kaworu seemed genuinely surprised by the topic. "Interesting. Why inquire?"
Because even with everything else on my plate, I still want to somehow find a way to connect with my father, he didn't say. Instead, he asked, "Well, you somehow managed to find a way to fight Sho Minazuki at the...fight club..." He managed to keep the impulsive annoyance out of his voice, fortunately. "How were you able to do that?"
"And what exactly does this have to do with my father...?"
"Well..." Hamlet had been driven to engage in a vengeful scheme thanks to the words of his father's Ghost (if it even existed, instead of being the figment of his own imagination...); Asuka was convinced that his being the Third Child had to be tied to Gendo Ikari, somehow; the mystery of his mother's fate was also lingering, like a phantom waiting to strike without warning. In a very real sense, one's origin couldn't help but impact one's state in life. "...you somehow have such strength. Is it tied to your father? Or is it something you mastered yourself...?"
Kaworu smiled, as if intrigued by the question. "Curious...well, given what you've doubtless gone through, I suppose it's not out of the question for me to speak more honestly..." Pulling a stress ball out of his pocket, he quietly began squeezing it before continuing on. "Would you be surprised if I actually originated within the Metaverse?"
"...huh? Like Ayanami-san?!" He impulsively clapped a hand over his mouth. "Erm..."
If Kaworu was surprised by that fact, he didn't comment on it. "It's not exactly anything so grand as you might be thinking...how do I put this...?" The stress ball was being squeezed quite ferociously at this juncture; what was the depth of Kaworu's emotions? "My earliest memories are...of another world: a world not like this one. Given what we know, I can only imagine that it must have been the Metaverse."
Shinji didn't bother to correct Kaworu about the nature of the world. (Although...would that have explained how strikingly red his and Ayanami's eyes were...?)
"And then, one day...I find myself at an orphanage, left behind by my father...and I have not seen him since." His smile, for the first time, gained a bit of bitterness. "It is not exactly the life I would have envisioned for myself. Orphans are not exactly valued highly in Japanese society, and I also have a rather striking visage on top of it...and yet, despite all of that, my talents were enough for me to earn my way into Hakone Academy...thanks to the sponsorship of our principal, of course."
"You mean Keel Lorenz?"
"Indeed; he sponsors several students each year out of his own pocket. If they perform at an acceptable level, he will extend them for another year." Running a hand through his hair—sparkles somehow flying from the motion—he added, "But I don't find much of an occasion to speak with him, alas; notwithstanding his own business, he is content with academic excellence. He seems to understand that not everyone is looking for a surrogate parent."
This was quite an unexpected revelation, to be sure. (The image of a child being left behind by a father rang on some deep, unfathomable level.) "...do you hate your father?"
"On the contrary," answered Kaworu, to Shinji's surprise. "It was certainly a great change in my life...but I do not blame him. I know him," he said, with an unwavering and otherworldly conviction. "He would not have left his child were it not for a good reason. That is something I know for certain."
"...how could you know for sure, if you haven't met him in years...?" Shinji didn't understand.
"...ah." Kaworu seemed briefly befuddled, as if recalling something. "I suppose that is accurate. The proper way of referring to it is...faith, correct? I have faith in my father. That is something I can profess without hesitation." Humming thoughtfully to himself, he muttered, "Even so, it feels odd to speak of it in such a way...alas." Stuffing the stress ball back into his pocket, he remarked, "We should get back to class." Kaworu turned on his heel and walked back for the stairway.
Shinji lingered behind, feeling oddly unmoored by Kaworu's revelation. (A strange commonality uncovered, enabling greater understanding...)
xx
As Kaworu entered the stairwell leading down from the roof, he eyed a certain blunette standing against the adjacent wall. "Eavesdropping, are we?"
Rei Ayanami quietly asked, "How much of that was true?"
"Accusing me of falsehood? Come now," lightly chided Kaworu. "As you well know, my 'father' did not choose his fate of his own volition...besides: my story echoes the truth sufficiently enough to be honest." With a tilt of his head, he remarked, "I am fully prepared for the consequences of what will come when I unveil the fullness of the truth to Shinji Ikari...can you say the same?"
Rei did not answer.
"...apparently not. A shame," he said, quietly departing.
(In the back of his mind, the door now had five deadbolts unlocked. Halfway there.)
xx
Rei said nothing more (for she did not dare to speak of what was on her mind), quietly following Kaworu back down to the second floor before Shinji could follow.
(If only you could claim to possess such confidence, that all will be well...)
xxxx
/The Stray Lamb, Tokyo-3, Japan/
Given the awkwardness that doubtless still lingered for anything related to Ryoji Kaji, Ritsuko Akagi wasn't surprised that Misato had decided to drink somewhere other than the Melon Patch.
The Stray Lamb—despite its name evoking the image of a lost and naive waif wandering into a realm of adult allure—was a bit classier than the Melon Patch was, with its warm lighting, tasteful paintings, relaxing background music, and more modern decor. Such was its 'classiness' that it even had a ban on smoking indoors. Tch. At least the liquor selection is good, she thought, quietly perusing the alcohol menu. "And it's close to NERV", she muttered, readjusting the reading glasses she had taken to as of late. What irony, that I can still read my monitors just fine. In the corner of her peripheral vision, she saw a familiar silhouette: after all, how often did she run across someone with a cane who was beneath the age of sixty? "Sakamoto-san?"
Ryuji Sakamoto blinked with surprise, wondering over to her booth. "Small world."
"Are you a regular, here?" She gestured towards the other side of the booth, inviting him to sit.
Ryuji, grateful for the offer, replied, "Can't say I am. Katsuragi texted me earlier today about an offer for drinks."
A brief stab of jealousy pierced Ritsuko: one which she deftly shoved aside with an adult's ruthlessness. "I see."
However, she wasn't quite good enough to hide her reaction from the older veteran. "If I'm interrupting Lady's Night, I can tell her something came up."
"You're already here," she remarked, nonetheless appreciating his attempt at propriety. "For whatever it's worth, Misato and I had scheduled this yesterday."
"Which means something must have happened today that she wanted to get a second opinion about from me, and decided to kill two birds with one stone." Ryuji glanced down at the menu, pondering what to order. "Work at the CPC must be keeping her late, though..."
Suspicion trickled through Ritsuko's mind, her nostrils impulsively flaring with annoyance. "...I wonder if this is her attempt at having her coworkers get along."
Ryuji smirked at that thought. "To be fair, you and I don't exactly run in the same circles. Has Katsuragi always been a workaholic?"
"Anyone involved with NERV is a workaholic," she said, correcting him. "But...it's fair to say that she has tunnel vision with certain aspects of her life."
The older man audibly snorted, amused by the observation. "Ain't that the truth."
"Has she been running you ragged?" she inquired, feeling somewhat curious about the Freelancer whom Misato had been working alongside for the better part of the last couple of months.
"Not her, specifically," he said with obvious caution. "But the stuff the kids keep getting involved with? I'm surprised she doesn't have gray hair by now." To punctuate his point, he pointed at the few strays of silver hair poking through his short spikes. "I sure as hell do."
Ritsuko smiled covertly, amused by his self-deprecation. "Needless to say, I certainly didn't expect her to become a single mother to teenagers." For how sterile the official terminology was—wards, and guardians—Ritsuko could not help but marvel at the subtle differences in Misato's demeanor since the beginning of summer. (Here, away from the monotonous atmosphere of NERV, it was easier to ruminate on such things, much less appreciate them.) "Then again, I rarely have the chance to actually see them when they're not working..."
"You should go over to Misato's apartment then whenever the kids are all over. It's a nice bit of normalcy."
'Normal'. What a quaint word. Normalcy was hours spent in front of various computers, ensuring that the MAGI remained at the cutting edge, and endeavoring to obtain as much data as possible about the Evangelion-users, Persona-users, and other metaphysical combatants under the aegis of NERV, Task Force or otherwise. "Normal is relative," she settled for saying. "Perhaps it might be more nostalgic for you, but Katsuragi didn't have what you would call a typical childhood."
"...that's fair enough," admitted Ryuji. "Not like I've got much experience in that sort of field anyhow."
There was a story there, but Ritsuko didn't want to pry. "Well, we might as well order something while we're waiting for Misato to get here."
"Think we should go for something other than beer. This place doesn't really give a 'beer' feel to me."
Ritsuko could certainly agree with that.
While engaging in more small talk, they ended up ordering a rather good vintage of chardonnay that wasn't too expensive; the wine bottle was brought to their booth right as Misato arrived. "Sorry I'm late," she muttered, plopping down next to Ritsuko with a tired sigh. "I had no idea being the Warden still involved so much paperwork..."
Ryuji arched an eyebrow. "For real?"
"I hope it'll let up after next week's referendum," she grumbled, glancing over at Ritsuko. "Have you two been behaving?"
Typical. She didn't even think about it. "It probably would have helped if you had informed me about your intention to invite Sakamoto-san...much less tell him about our prior arrangement."
"...ah." Misato looked genuinely pained by her faux pas. "Ignore me," she muttered, burying her head into her arms.
Ryuji chuckled, popping open the bottle and pouring the white wine into three glasses. "Well, we might as well start on a good note. Kanpai."
"Kanpai," replied Misato and Ritsuko, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip. Not bad for the price, Ritsuko thought as she stared at the liquid. Not even a hint of fizz.
They proceeded to order small dishes to go with the wine: crackers, mild cheese, and plates of various sushi and sashimi samples. The conversation was largely on safe and inoffensive topics: a chance to vent about work, about annoyances, about the trivialities of life that were so easy to put aside until it was time to speak of them out loud.
It reminded Ritsuko of the older days, when she, Misato, and Kaji had been proverbial bosom buddies. Strangely enough, Ryuji Sakamoto fit into that dynamic to some extent: whether or not it was a function of his age, he came across as more grounded and more down-to-earth. Yet his sense of self-deprecation was very in line with Kaji's own humorous style.
Perhaps then it was no surprise that Ritsuko witnessed the occasional spark in Misato's eyes, or the odd gestures she would make with her hands or her hair without realizing it. Hmm. Does she have a thing for Sakamoto? Hiding her expression behind her glass, she pondered that thought with a long sip. That's...rather surprising.
A discussion for later, then: when it was just the two of them.
(Perhaps Misato was finally moving on, whether she had admitted it to herself or not?)
xx
Misato knew of Ritsuko's habits after so many years; even as they begun discussing college stories (good and bad), the wine continued to flow. Something had to give.
As such, when Ritsuko excused herself to go to the restroom, Misato didn't bat an eye beyond making a joking comment about the capacity of her bladder.
"Well, my lung capacity for smoke had to come from somewhere," Ritsuko calmly retorted, repeating an old line from her university days. Then she was gone and out of sight.
Ryuji waited until she sat back down to ask, "So...what was so important that you needed me to crash your Lady's Night?"
"At least you and Ritsky got along. It's worth a little bit of fun at my expense." Sipping the last of her wine, she said, "Found out that our 'summer road trip chaperone' has a connection we weren't aware of."
Ryuji refilled her glass. "And?"
"...Akechi. Amamiya and Akechi know each other. And just based on what I saw...they've known each other for a while."
"...that a fact?" Ryuji calmly nibbled on a cracker, even as his expression betrayed the gears churning in his mind. "And what do you want to do about it?"
"What I want is to somehow arrange a way for me to talk with Amamiya. Preferably with you around, since you both have some kind of 'bro' thing going on."
"Bro thing?"
Misato snorted at his incredulity. "What else do you want me to call it? You yourself said you didn't really know why you felt compelled to believe in him." Ryuji couldn't really dispute that, so she added, "I don't want to make him skittish, so I'd rather take care of this as legally as possible."
Ryuji arched an eyebrow. "...so just legally, then."
"Smartass," she griped.
Ryuji huffed, leaning back against the booth with a thoughtful expression. "...the kid delivered food to your place once, didn't he? Do you know his work schedule?"
"...no. But that's the makings of an idea. Think you'll be free this weekend?"
"It depends on what you're planning."
"Don't worry, I'll keep you in the loop," she assured him.
"...fine." Ryuji leaned back, staring quietly at his wine glass. "You're not getting in over your head, are you?"
"Why else do you think I'm involving you?"
At this, Ryuji could only snort. ("Troublesome woman," he muttered underneath his breath.) "Glad to know I'm so helpful."
"...but I really appreciate it, though." Misato punctuated her point by taking another long sip of her wine. "I mean it."
"...I know." Ryuji exhaled audibly, suddenly appearing more akin to his age than usual. "Somehow..."
Whatever odd tension remained between them was swiftly thrown away once Ritsuko finally returned. "So...where were we?"
"You were talking about the time you mistook Akagi's hair dye for shampoo," remarked Ryuji with a smirk.
"Oi," griped Misato. Okay, I probably deserve it, but still! "Ritsky, it wasn't...that bad, right...?"
Ritsuko simply snorted into her wine glass.
xxxx
All the while, Shinji Ikari—lacking any missions of particular importance that day—had elected to focus on catching up on his lessons from the afternoon and into the evening.
(Re-reading old material and putting new topics into context as a result...made him feel more knowledgeable...)
xxxx
/Room 4, 3rd Floor, Vulcanus Dorms, Hakone Academy/
"I think I have an idea as to what to do."
Yu Narukami's sudden statement elicited confused blinks from Minato Arisato and Ren Amamiya. "Mind sharing with the class?" asked Ren.
Yu, looking up from his phone, said, "A contingency...and hopefully, that's all it'll remain. But I'll need something to prove my Metaverse bonafides."
"...why are you looking at me?" asked Ren.
"Your mask."
"...do I have to? I like my mask."
Yu held out his hand.
Ren sighed dramatically, digging into his stuff to pull out a familiar domino mask. "Please don't lose it. I went through a lot of effort to make it."
"I can't make any promises," dryly said Yu.
Rolling his eyes, Ren glanced over at his proverbial senior. "What about you? What are you going to be working on?"
"...something useful," Minato said, quietly flopping over onto his bed to turn in. "Have to sleep on it, though. Gotta make sure it's a good idea."
Great. And the only ideas I can think of are bad ones. Ren stared quietly at the ceiling, pondering what exactly the near future held for them all. There has to be a way to work around our limitations...but how...?
That night, all of the Wild Cards pondered their next steps.
(Even the Imprisoned One, so very far away: Phanuel's nigh-limitless stamina was finally beginning to flag.)
(As far as Minako was concerned, victory would be hers before long...)
xxxx
END OF 9/25/2015
xxxx
Author's Note: Shinji's Death Social Link is now at Rank 5. For us Americans, random student's bass was over 24 pounds; Yoshizawa's trout was nearly 40 pounds; and Kawakami's was 44 pounds!
Also, a brief reminder that Japan didn't ban smoking indoors at public facilities (with some specific exceptions) until 2018 IRL; and they didn't enforce it vigorously until 2020. So "The Stray Lamb" not allowing any smoking actually *would* be a legitimate selling point for some clients.