Ryo spoke through mouthfuls of rice without looking up. “Why is that? Because I brought an American girl to your home?”

“Maybe!”

“Remi, please,” Shinji said, bemused. “We must have some forks somewhere. This is an open household, after all.” He looked at her across the sitting table and smiled warmly, to which Remi huffed and left the room, leaving the sliding door open out of spite. A chilly air drifted in from the courtyard beyond.

Ryo still hadn’t looked up, intent on finishing his meal. Across from him, Akane picked at the rice with her fingers. “So, what’s her problem?” He switched the conversation to Japanese.

“Don’t mind her.” Shinji responded in kind. He stood and closed the door gently. “I’m taking care of it. I think our surprise guest is cause for more interesting conversation.”

Ryo spoke between bites. “You didn’t spend two days with her. Two days’ travels on horseback with a mute. Her name was the last thing I got out of her.”

“Interesting.” Shinji eyed the girl seriously, who had been startled to discover the rice stuck stubbornly to her fingertips. “I wonder if she suffers from some sort of trauma.” He paused. “What do you think of her?”

Ryo stuffed half a boiled egg in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Not sure. Calls herself ‘Akane’ but it’s clear she’s not from Japan. Orphan, maybe… Plenty of those sprung up around the Fall. Her presence in the Wasteland is even more of a mystery. I’d bet she could have information the elders may need. As far as I’m aware, she’s the last surviving witness to this whole disaster.”

“Oh, I’m sure your job didn’t go so bad.”

Ryo looked up at Shinji. “Did Remi not tell you?”

“I love my sister dearly, but she is not known for her tact or communication.”

Ryo described the night of the ambush openly, sparing no details. Shinji listened with a level and patient silence, but when Ryo spoke of the girl’s answer to his questions about the Princess, his eyes widened ever so slightly, and his nostrils flared. Only when Ryo was finished his retelling did Shinji finally respond.

“This is… a grave turn of events, my friend.”

“Oh, you don’t say? The assassination of the last surviving heir to the imperial throne is perhaps important?”

Shinji paused, ignoring Ryo’s sarcasm. “And what of this other man you know? Christoff?”

Ryo twisted his face up briefly in an angry grimace. “I’m not talking about that.” He reached into his trousers and plucked a hidden flask from his belt, pulling a deep swig from its acrid contents. He glanced at Shinji for a moment, who raised his eyebrows amusingly. Ryo grunted and took another long gulp.