Since she’ll probably be staying here for a while, Kyouka decides that she should buy some groceries. Her welcome package came with a set of cookbooks, so it would be nice to make some of the recipes there. Her roommate might like them, and they could talk about... stuff. What kind of stuff? She’s not sure yet, but she’ll figure it out when she gets there. 

She arrives to the area quickly, eyeing the selection they have. Fruits, vegetables, drinks... and snacks. Lots of snacks. She’s never seen so much food in one place before. Her eyes twinkle in awe and delight at everything, and she decides on one thing: fill up her cart as much as she can.

She grabs the necessities, of course, but she wants to indulge herself. She puts some items she thinks Marry would like, as well, so she won’t be the only one enjoying the food. She’s so into it, she doesn’t see the person near her and bumps into them.

“Oh, sor-”

She’s interrupted once she notices the gloves and jacket, eyes widening at the sight of... one of the mafia executives. Someone she’s seen plenty of times before, but never spoke to besides a few brief words... Chuuya Nakahara. She stares, processing the fact that he managed to get himself here, too. One of the strongest, someone who has a grudge on the Agency-- someone who knows her. 

which is why people never know him.

"I never heard of these countries before... this really is a world beyond the gates."

going to other worlds, is common because GATES existed in his own world. GATES that led to other worlds where monsters attack you.

the proof is that the labels listed , showed countries he never knew existed, language he could not quiet understand.

"What a odd city, all its missing are monster attacks and it would have been like New York."

Sure, Crises is a little creepy. But it’s not that bad, Jade thinks. She’s gotten to know it better ever since she started visiting John here, and she’s gotten comfortable wandering around. Comfortable enough that she’s happy to sit on the ground on the sidewalk and feed some of the small, non-talking rats some of her lunch.

She still can’t tell if they talk or not. What if they do and they just don’t talk to humans? Only to the other rats? She considers one of them, sitting on her knee as she hands it a broken off bit of cracker. She stares.

“You know,” she says. “I’m part dog, so I’m not just some human. You can talk to me if you want to. No one else is around. I’m listening. It’s just us.” Or was, last time she looked up from her occupation. “I’ve been feeding you and everything. Just a little ‘hello’ or something to tell me if you can actually say stuff.”