[You find yourself at a Japanese graveyard, an old-fashioned lantern in hand as mist starts to roll through the stones during the new moon. The only sounds you hear are those of your own breathing, the rustle of cloth, perhaps a scream or two of the pair ahead. A path filled with scares behind every corner, ghosts and demons waiting to frighten you
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I'm glad he's fine, I worried. About both of you.
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[Chuckles softly.] We're both fine. He misses you, though.
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[Sighs.] I wish I could see him.
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