Hiroko Hagakure made such a good job at finding the Captives that she is given a Future Foundation suit and a hacking gun. Komaru teaches her how to use it.
Yasuhiro is an intermediate for Towa and the rest of the world; he brings medicine, weapons, clothes, cosmetics, manga, anything. he’s goofy and likes to hang around Toko, Takaaki and Kanon. His mom smother him with hugs each time he comes back and he earns the title “Ultimate Mama’s Boy”.
the Captives are not imprisoned anymore and free to go anywhere Towa City. They still call themselves ‘Captives’ since they can’t leave it, their electronic bracelets still working. thanks to Komaru, they decide to help future foundation but refuse to be part of it yet. most of them don’t trust the organisation completely, Kanon Nakajima for example.
Haiji Towa is escorted outside Towa City and is completely under the care of Future Foundation. he is completely traumatized and unresponsive. as much as Komaru hates to think that, it might be better if he’s not in Towa anymore. maybe he did more bad than good.
she inherits his red motorcycle though (who was mysteriously unharmed) and rides it everywhere. it’s faster and she has a blast. Touko rides at the back reluctantly. soon it becomes a symbol for adults and kids alike, but then she decides to give it to Takemichi Yukimaru. he is very loyal to her afterwards and goes off to any errands and patrollings she gives him. the Captives like to hear about his time in the Crazy Diamonds.
one day Fujiko Yamada encounters Genocider Syo and they both become buddies. when Komaru comes to pick Syo up, they’re drooling and keep slapping each other’s back while saying “fujoshi sisterhood”. she gains paper, ink and pens and continue tara
☆ spa, the quality not slighted in one bit, “as expected of a master of manga!” Komaru says in awe.
after going through Towa City’s archives, they write a list of kids born into the town. a good hundred are missing. they manage to keep the monokuma children in a big school that the Captives have transformed into a big and comfy sorta-hospital, kept secret from the adults and guarded by Kenshiro. their only concern is that kids don’t eat. they’re slowly thinning out and it stresses everyone. Komaru sends a request for medical equipment and the kids are fed through tubes. it’s not the best solution but it’s the only one they have as of right now. the medical equipment is also a benefit to Kenshiro whose health slowly deteriorates.
one day Hiroko brings out grand bois chéri ludenberg and the kids croon after the cat who hiss and tries to escape these creepy masked children but it’s no use, ultimately, his tummy is gonna get rubbed.
when Komaru meets Ayaka Haneyama, she is completely starstruck. she shakes her hand with both hands and stutters throughout her whole introduction. Ayaka decides to help at towa hills, where she puts a news radio show up diffused throughout the whole town. she is a very good talker and she is the main host of a talk show whose catchphrase is “it’s not kasu, it’s ayakasu!” who becomes super popular amongst adults. they request song covers and small idle chat with guests, like Toko Fukawa the popular author.
Takaaki Ishimaru created a small police force with adults, including Hiroko and Yasuhiro Hagakure, Komaru, Toko and Kanon. he has a few contacts outside, like Yui samidare, who soon enters Towa City as a resource help. they target the Remnants of Despair. they find a lot of clues and even manage to take down the mysterious masked bodyguard swordswoman and the son of the Kuzuryuu family.
Fuhito Kirigiri’s status is unknown. Hiroko swears she found him, but they have yet to find a sign of life from him. Yui Samidare makes a detective vow to find him.
at the request of his master, the butler Pennyworth helps out too. he is mostly wandering in the town, helping whoever needs help. most often he crosses Komaru and Toko’s path. his gaze is stern but he chats a lot and offers them tea. surprisingly enough, he befriends Toko quite easily since both have something in common: they adore master Byakuya.
the cleaning of the town is not easy. rubble and debris everywhere, corpses every two meters, monokumas hiding in every corner… but they manage. in all the confusion, Komaru decides to properly bury Taichi Fujisaki and to raise a shrine for Yuta, at the end of the broken bridge. she stares a long time at the water. she wishes he was still there. she thinks he’d been friends with everyone.
at some point, Toko decides to write. it’s not easy finding paper, and a great rivalry between her and Fujiko arises, both accusing the other of wasting it. she writes and writes, from day to night on off days, she doesn’t come in broad daylight for at least five days. when she does, though, pale and sweaty, she gives Komaru a huge manuscript and mumbles that it’s “the first draft, but it’s ok enough for someone so low like Komaru”. it’s tedious for her to read and full of kanji Komaru has to check in a dictionary but she finds herself enraptured in her writing. she finds herself with no words left of praise to offer toko, mesmerized by how well she wrote the story. their story. the story of Towa City, and most importantly, of two girls who had nothing in common at first, but became best friends by pushing each other up. komaru smiles. it’s everything toko never thought she’d need but it’s enough. more than enough.
the tension between them is so palpable that adults groan whenever they enter a room together. Hiroko smirks and ask casually, “so you two share a bed, huh?” Komaru is so oblivious it hurts. “well of course, she’s scared in the dark and all, that’s what friends do for each other, no?”
(they start dating each other a year after that “in secret”, Toko insists, but it’s no use since everyone knew already. “you sure took your sweet time,” Hiroko teases.)
This is actually one of my personal favorites, shorter than most but more poignant I think. Anyway, not like anyone reads these so.. here you go.
“Why here?” I asked my human comrade. We stood in front of an ornately carved piece of marble, in front of which two human Marines paced back and forth in dress uniforms, holding ancient projectile weapons made of wood.
I was a visiting dignitary from the Itaxan Republic. After humanity had resoundingly crushed the Texar-Hakara, they had become a dominant force in the galaxy. Leaders in many new technologies they had captured from the Texar-Hakara and put into production for themselves.
And they were universally known as the last species in the galaxy to fuck with.
They were small these humans. And smelly. And to be frank their cuisine left something to be desired. But their concepts of honor, courage, respect, they were instilled in their warriors. Interestingly enough they do not have a warrior caste, instead their military is all volunteer except in times of the greatest conflict.
My human guide had become rather stiff, and I was concerned that he was undergoing a bit of a seizure or something of the like, until I noticed his hand was rigidly flat and touching just above his optical nerves.
He lowered his hand, and relaxed.
“You mean why did we stop here?” He replied, his translator spitting out near perfect Itaxan.
“This was the point where the Texar-Hakara were stopped in their invasion of Luna wasn’t it?”
“Yes” He admitted.
“Why here? This isn’t a particularly defensible position.” I noted. Despite the ignominy of our defeat at the hands of the ruthless invaders, we Itaxans prided ourselves on our tactical genius. We made up a large percentage of the higher echelons of the Allied Galactic Military.
“Because this is special.” My guide said.
“This is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.”
“Warriors who died, whose bodies were found but we could not name, they are laid to rest here where their memories may be forever revered and honored. They above all others deserve it.”
“I don’t understand.” I admitted.
“Neither did the Texar-Hakara. This is the new tomb, dedicated especially to those who die in space. There’s a prayer written on it. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes?” I half asked.
“Lord our eternal father, grant me this prayer. Grant me this that I might be the sheepdog to thy Shepard. Grant unto me that which I beg, that I might guard the borders of man from the evils of the universe that you in your infinite wisdom have placed here to test our faith.
“Oh lord, grant me that you might strike down with great vengeance my enemies who come upon the field of battle. And if that be too much to ask, Lord I beg that you would grant me the Angels of Heaven, that they might fight beside me on the field of battle. And if that be too much to ask, then Lord give me strong men and women to stand beside me on the field of battle. And Lord, if that be too much to ask, grant me the strength and the courage to take my enemies and all the enemies of mankind, and deliver them unto your eternal judgement.
And Lord, if you will not grant me that I might take my enemies to their judgement, then grant me absolution, for I will not permit the enemies of humanity to live while I still draw breath. And Lord, if you will not grant me absolution, then I will burn in the fires of hell with a light heart, for I will have served humanity, my family, and my brothers in arms. Amen.”
Slow brains, unable to weigh up tasks, unable to calculate likely outcomes, scared of improbable results, fearful of the unknown.
I am a warrior of the stupid then, with my spear and shield and boot knife.
Cowering in the corner from the landlord, from the ice filled streams I won’t drown in, from the walk alone in the dark.
I ride into battle on my wagon of safety, seatbelt on.
I am the library goer, beneath a castle of books reading of adventures and how to eliminate the possibility of death during them.
I am the mathless calculator, working on instinct, quivering nonsensically and telling everyone to take care.
I am the thrill (of security) seeker, the anti monotony - pro predictability creature, pulling on ropes and refusing rides from strangers.
I am the couldn’t give a fuck whilst checking the rules for my own compliance kinda footloose gal.
I’m the free spirit, soaring above all things whilst checking the map for the right direction and simultaneously wondering about safe rest spots spirit.
I’m the laugh in the face of danger woman, the laugh and then back away slowly apologising profusely woman and then dream for years of how upset I made that person that one time woman.
I’m the drink out of a straw to avoid bee stings in a coke can lady, then a fuck the straw because the oceans are dying and pick a different drink lady.
I don’t know if I am the low IQ risk averse person, but I can tell you the countries you’re most likely to get attacked by a bear.
The return of the Unknown Warrior to Britain,1920. the horses in the second picture served the whole of the war as a team and all lived to return to duties in London and were known as “The Old Blacks ”
Imagine the Jyn’s necklace protected them and they just lived. They suddenly kissed each other and they found a way to get out of the disaster.
Years later they live in another planet and have a daughter/son and she/he will appear in episode VIII. She/He is like an unknown warrior and suddenly we discover her/his name.
“YES! I’m the DAUGHTER/SON of Jyn Erson and Cassian Andor. Two rebels who fought to obtain the Death Star plans”