=Rifled and bruised, one finds a girl in her late teens, almost in her twenties, brushing herself off and taking a look around=
Where...where am I? This isn't Kyoto. This isn't even Japan!
=Head turns every which way, ignoring the blinking box= H-how did I get here? Where is everyone?!
=Sits up, checking her hair for a moment and
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Are you stuck in the little box with the other girl?
Is this really a telephone? How are you? Where's the Aoiya? Isn't your grandfather looking for you?
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...
Kenji?
But Miss Misao... I thought you liked Shinamori Aoshi.
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Yeeeeah, I'll let ya handle Kenji.
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