[Private Voice: sketchy security]
[The recorder clicks on in the middle of a sentence, and given the soft shuff of cloth over cloth, it's likely that she bumped it while putting on her yukata.] -- never very good at tying these by myself. Chie always helped. A little. ... There. Now, where were we meeting? Near the goldfish by the entrance. [A quiet, amused laugh.] She used to splash all over trying to catch goldfish, and she always made me have one of the steak skewers. ... [The words are slower, more thoughtful. Worried.] I hope she's doing all right at the precinct. Maybe she's even found-- Oh! Is this on?
[//end private]