The room is small and the air in it a little stale and I think maybe it's all the life stories that have been dragged to light here, for better or for worse. I'm kneeling and so is Nakaya, the man who is my ticket to freedom. He's nervous and shows it all too obviously - blabbering forth in a string of awkwardness. I have to reprimand him - dear
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What in the --?
Youko?
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That was the curse. Obviously.
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You were falsely accused of murder, then?
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Yes. Falsely.
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