As a visitor had entered the 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai's designated safe zone, a few figures emerged from the front door, some of them walking backwards. As it turns out, some of the soldiers were beginning to clear out the corpses that were the result of their skirmish in the building; they had just liberated it fully, with the basement completely Kyonshi-free. Some of the civilians hanging onto the remnants of the UN peacekeeper unit were also helping out, carrying bodies to a growing pile of rotting flesh set upon a modest amount of firewood.
A little girl nine years of age was nearby, watching butterflies fluttering from one flower to another near the entrance. As the soldiers bearing the dead bodies came out, her attentions were shifted to them. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like them!" A boy only a year or two older than her exclaimed as he watched his guardians performing their duty with her. "What do you want to be?"
"A graceful ballerina, like auntie Maiko. She told me that she used to do ballet."
Sergeant Maiko had noticed Abby as soon as she shouted her greeting. There were numerous windows and she happened to be looking out of one. Following up behind her labouring men, she flicked her Wakizashi, and droplets of blood fell. As she walked down the stairs leading to the main entrance of the building towards the visitor, she produced a cloth and started wiping her sword with it. "Saitei Kyonshi! Bakayaro!" She cursed as she rubbed her sword hard. Her riot gear and vest was similarly splattered as well.
Unlocking her visor and pulling it up, she revealed her face, which was relatively fair and blemish-free for a lady-in-arms, but reddened with anger and exertion. Then there was that look in her eyes; there were alot of things at the meeting that she was peeved at. "What do you want!?" Without realising it, she shouted at Abby, before checking herself and starting all over again as she returned her shorter sword back to its scabbard, "I apologise." Taking a deep breath and a bow and burying her anger, she continued, "Is there anything I can assist you with, mame?"
Taking the main road leading into town, Captain Ishida Hisashi was making a beeline for the closest infantry icon on his computer. There was still a distance to go, so he decided to do a radio test. Pressing the transmit button on his digital walkie talkie, he spoke into the mic on his headset, "This is Captain Ishida Hisashi of 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai 3rd Company, UN US Mission, to Roy of... Civilian Group 1-Alpha, second radio check, over." He released the transmit button and waited. If there was a time when he did well in the local language, it was in radio discipline. The utilitarian sparsity of the language ensured that what he spoke sounded like good English.