... crap.

"... who? I don't know who you're talking about."

"Chouko Ashford..." E repeats, a cautious tone to his whispering voice as he explains. "Little girl that appeared in New York for the Vanilla presentation. Some forgotten heir and college dropout, disappeared off of the planet months after."

He... he knows... how does he know? How exactly does he know? Did I- did I give it away? Did he already know long before I arrived? He does, he does know. What else does he know?

"I don't understand the connections, E. Nothing I am remotely resembles her."

"Your sunglasses. Your eyes," E comments, leaning forward with a grin. "I am willing to bet that they're red. One of the only people to have natural, red eyes... even brighter than anything an albino can have. Even if it's fake, or you're wearing contacts, why would a delivery woman need to specifically have red eyes?"

Tch.

"So. I am not confirming whether or not you are correct, but... in the slim chance you do have my identity, what is your objective?"

Eugene rolls his eyes, almost- scoffing at Kuroiwa still trying to hide it. "Insurance. Woman comes in here, pinpoints something secret, intends to intimidate me by pointing it out... only makes sense that I'd want to confront her, level the playing field. Stand on equal footing and all."

.......

Kuroiwa puts the car into park, and glares at... Eugene... through her sunglasses. Taking off her sunglasses and gazing at Eugene with her red eyes. A morbidly wordless stare as her eyes lock onto Eugene.

"Oh." Eugene comments. The red eyes are real. This truly is Chouko, the famed "Apple-Eyed Child" in the flesh and all. Right on the money, grinning in mild surprise.

Kuroiwa is frantically plotting her next move right now. Her carelessness, her... her need for superiority, her pure petty action. All of it has put herself in grave danger, face to face with a random client that knows her identity. Unsure what to do, and... the worst part is that Kuroiwa can't even do anything about it, if she comes up with an idea. Leaving now leaves E in a position to blackmail her and spread her identity. Killing E will jeopardize the job, a needless death of a seller that will simply put a beacon on the person who kills him. Informing Charon of her mess-up will...

Kuroiwa takes a deep breath, continuing to glare at E as her hand lowers to her side. Keeping his attention as she rests a hand on her baton... her extendable, defense baton. Highly powerful, conceptually non-lethal... at least, more than a gun and a knife. She could take E out right now. Knock him out, hold him hostage, something.

"... o... oh god. I see that look-" E blurts out, backing away from the car door. "Hey- hey, heyheyhey, I'm serious. No harm intended. What's said in this garage stays between us, not a word out to anyone. You know about me, I know about you. Just setting up something- mutual, y'know?"

Kuroiwa grips her baton, eyes tensely narrowing. "Bugs? Witnesses? Anything underhanded that you've got against me?"

"S-Security cameras, but that's it," E admits, blurting out that there are cameras to record Kuroiwa's appearance.

"... mhmm..." Kuroiwa cautiously noises.

"C'mon. Let's open a dialogue. Equal terms, equal footing, act in the other's best interest, right? I need a delivery guy, you need work. Again, again- whatever reasons you have to keep secret, you have my word that not a single word leaves this garage. If- If you want, I can close the garage door, REALLY soundproof everything, but- if we keep things quiet to a whisper like this, no one's gonna hear."

"..." Kuroiwa... slowly takes her hand away from her weapon. "Best to keep the garage door open... so that I can drive away, if you do anything, E."

"Do anyth-" ... Eugene's eyes widen at this, his voice raising in shock. "W-Woah, woah, okay, NO! No, that's not my intention!"

Kuroiwa squints her eyes at E.

"D-Don't stare at me like that, I'm serious! S-Sure, Japanese women look beautiful, but- oh, God, no! D-Definitely not interested in that way!" Eugene exclaims, his voice raised highly. "P-Plus, you were ten when I first heard about you, that's- ugh, crap, that's sickening to just think about...!"

"..."

Eugene continues, almost obsessively. "S-Seriously, like, I- I just mean it in a privacy way, n-not a whole 'keep you in the garage' way. Please, you have to believe me, I- I would never, I'd never do anything like that! Please???"

... Kuroiwa feels disillusioned.

The identity of E is noticeably less impressive, now that the veil is removed and she speaks with Eugene, the person. The bumbling, panicking man grasping at straws for his safety.

Yet, this is... this is relieving. E wants to be put on "equal footing", this motivation leaves him vulnerable. A situation less ominous and uncertain.

"... fine."

Eugene- blinks a couple of times. "F... Fine? W-What do you mean by...?"

Kuroiwa lets out a sigh as she puts the sunglasses in the truck's cup holder. Closing her eyes to take a deep breath in, feeling a metaphorical curtain pull away from her face. "You are correct," she answers, reluctantly choosing to put her trust in this... arrangement. "I am Chouko Ashford, and I accept your proposition to be equal. I shall have no intentions of killing you whatsoever... as long as this information stays between us, Eugene."

"R... Right," Eugene responds, as he's basically- told he was correct. Noticeably easing up, an awkwardly friendly smile on his face. "So, before you drive off and all, care for some- oh, I dunno, tea? Not every day I get a fallen British scholar and Japanese girl in my garage. You'd be the first person I welcome into this house."

Kuroiwa shakes her head. "As much as that sounds... interesting, I have a job to take care of. I cannot afford to loaf about and accept 'refreshments' from a middle-aged stranger."

"Ouch. I'm only 28," Eugene comments...

"And I'm nine years younger than you, Eugene," Kuroiwa responds immediately.

Eugene- clears his throat. "Geez... one hell of a wake up call for me... what is it? My face, my clothes?"

Kuroiwa isn't indulging in this conversation any further, and moves on.

"Moving on. So, you were 19 around the time 'Chouko Ashford' spread across the media. Story?"

"W... Well, sure, I know about you. Your one appearance at the presentation left an impression on me and my friend," Eugene answers, scratching the back of his head.

"Friend?"

"Yeah. Media may have forgotten you, but he and I didn't. I was there, supporting my classmate while he was presenting his little invention, that Vanilla prototype, and saw that whole- show."

"... oh. You're an acquaintance of that one inventor years ago," Kuroiwa comments. Somehow, Eugene's entire personality makes more sense, knowing this information. People keep alike company, more often than not.

"Yep. He took the language thing and worked on it as a passion project. Took a solid gamble with your dad's scholarship and all," Eugene idly comments. "Dude wouldn't stop talking about how lucky he was that you were there to sell his invention and all. Fame went to his head, and we kind of just... stopped talking altogether. One of the big reasons why I recognized you, so... yeah."

"Right..."

Kuroiwa... hms at this. There's more to learn about E, now that he's conceptually... the classmate of the founder of all modern Android technology. Plus, he knows her face already. No use in wasting this chance, might as well indulge in his hospitality.

Thus, she unlocks her car door, readying to accept his offer for some refreshment. "On second thought, Eugene. I'd like to come in for some tea. If you don't mind my departure from your home to be a little late?"

"N-Not at all! I'm alright with welcoming you for some time, not every day a Japanese woman, and British prodigy, comes over for a friendly chat... especially one from the same professional circles and all," Eugene responds.

"Indeed," Kuroiwa nonchalantly responds.

Eugene nods, then walks to close the garage door. "... first, mind backing up a little? Carefully, of course. I secured the boxes, sure, but-"

"Yes, yes, slowly, regardless," Kuroiwa comments, pulling the car into reverse and driving carefully backwards. "I am aware."

The garage door closes, Kuroiwa turns the car off and steps out, and the two begin to make their way into Eugene's home.

Eugene opens the door to enter, and the two step into... a normal living room. A typical one. Normal couch with a standard TV. Normal beige walls. Curiously, a display case of anime figurines in the corner of the room, likely to show off his high value merchandise. Unremarkable living room regardless. Simple modern living area, with the rest of his house unknown to her.

"Hm." Kuroiwa looks down at the hardwood floor, standing right outside the open door. "Would you prefer I remove my shoes?"

"You can keep them on, hardwood floor. Doesn't matter all that much," Eugene responds. "Any other room in this house, though- y'know. Carpets... kitchen tile..."

"Right."

Kuroiwa stares down at the floor for a moment...

...

"... please excuse me," Kuroiwa politely calls out, before stepping through. "Apologies that I didn't bring a welcoming gift, this is an unexpected visit..."

"Pff-" Eugene lets out a laugh at this, almost chuckling. "No problem. Tea'll be ready in just a little bit. Make yourself at home, Ashford."

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Chouko will do..." Kuroiwa corrects, before walking over to the couch. "And... very well."

As Eugene heads into the kitchen to, apparently, prepare the tea... Kuroiwa takes out the phone and begins to text Charon about her pit stop. Simply informing him that she's making a temporary stop for now. Sitting contently and comfortably on one end of the couch, relaxing just for the slightest of moments as she is accustoming herself to the room and all.

Almost ready to go into this conversation as just... Chouko, no Kuroiwa behind it.

Then, she gets snapped out of this foolish notion, as Eugene sees her on the phone. "Texting someone?" Eugene calls out immediately, suspicious...

"My... handler," Kuroiwa responds, hesitation in her voice as she honestly responds. "Informing him of my 'pit stop' for now. Did not elaborate anything about you or this home... so, nothing to worry about."

"Right- right. Okay," Eugene comments, returning to the kitchen.

...

Kuroiwa lets out a sigh as she pockets the phone. Right. Equal footing does not mean a full, complete friendship. Eugene was understandably cautious in that moment. Kuroiwa could have been texting anyone about him, revealing anything about him under the guise of comfortably relaxing. At the same time, Eugene could be contacting anyone about her at the same time.

This is a visit between professionals on guard and wary of each other. Not a causal, careless stay. There was no room to be Chouko right now.

Eventually, Eugene returns with a fresh pot of tea and some cups. Blatantly Japanese themed, these green cylindrical cups coming with no handles or saucers.

"... hm. Green tea?" Kuroiwa asks, immediately- taking assumption that Eugene's brewed the one tea most common in anime.

"Yep," Eugene responds, pouring some for her. "Enjoy."

Kuroiwa nods, reaching a hand out to...

... hold the cup, then pull her hand away. The cup is hot. It's too hot for her to hold like that. Kuroiwa's not used to it. With handles on the tea cups she's used to, she didn't need to be cautious about the surface temperature on her hand...

"Pfft-" Eugene chuckles again, as he pours himself a cup. "I'm witnessing someone going through an unexpected culture shock here..."

"Hah," Kuroiwa sarcastically noises, sighing as she gently holds the cup. Blowing gently into it.

A silence between the two, as Eugene holds his cup in two hands, taking a sip from it right away. Kuroiwa suspects that he's... more than used to the tea, apparently, knowing precisely what temperature he wants.

With nothing to do but wait for her tea to cool off... Kuroiwa lets out a resigned sigh. "... so. You have your suspicions validated, now I'd like to ask about mine. Are my assumptions about you correct? Psychological tactics?"

"... kind of, yeah?" Eugene explains, tilting his head slightly. "I- I might need you to explain a little, what you mean by that."

"Alright. So, your instructions are very detailed, a packet's worth of instructions that a normal person would struggle to remember by their lonesome," Kuroiwa comments. "Intentional?"

Eugene nods. "Intentional. The cargo's high value, high ticket. I can't just let anyone come into my garage, they need to be the one I paid money for, so... y'know, paper, make the mercenary in the truck follow them and all."

"Right. So the instructions are there to overwhelm my memory alongside all of these posters and your unremarkable, middle-aged appearance," Kuroiwa comments. "Masks your identity."

"Huh... yeah, that's also right," E comments, visibly more nervous now... both because he's being called middle-aged again, and also because Kuroiwa is outstandingly correct. "N... Not a lot of people would pick up on that. Sure, I love the hell out of anime, but keeping like... dozens of posters in the garage, definitely got my reasons to put all of them up."

"Yes, I've deduced as much... the Seven, Plus or Minus Two, concept," Kuroiwa comments.

"The- the induction script?" asks Eugene.

"... what?" Kuroiwa asks, confused.

"Huh?" Eugene blurts out, almost immediately, to cover the fact he just said that. "... uhm, anyway, I... I basically just thought, 'if people just think I am nothing more than a guy who really freaking loves anime', then there isn't much of a chance for them to think I'm anything else. I think it's the- I dunno, Barnum Effect? Saw it in an anime..."

"Well, no, the Barnum Effect is the opposite," Kuroiwa corrects. "The idea follows someone believing general statements to apply to them, specifically. You would be putting up posters to make people focus heavily on you, that you're not just a guy that loves anime. You're the guy in question. This only applies in cases similar to... if I told you, 'people are just getting dumber and dumber every day, man!' and you begin assuming this statement is directed to you."

"Ah... that makes sense," Eugene responds.

"Mm. See, I believe what you're suggesting is... the Asch Conformity Effect, if memory serves me correct," Kuroiwa comments, scratching her chin lightly. "In the 1950s, psychologist Solomon Asch demonstrated how individuals are likely to give incorrect responses in order to conform to the group. The experiment involved a line test, a 'vision test' amongst a group of fellow participants to examine a line segment and choose from three different lengths. The pressure to follow along with the majority, to reduce conflict and all, resulted in students intentionally choosing an incorrect answer."

"..." Eugene nods idly, listening to Kuroiwa's long explanation. He's passionate about anime, she's passionate about... psychology.

"Combine this with the Social Identity theory, that most people adopt the identity of the social group you're a part of, and you maintain a positive image by belonging with the 'passionate anime lovers' and all. No signs that you're standing out as anything different. Unlikely that anyone will find out that you're an illegal arms dealer."

"... hey, what I'm doing isn't illegal!" Eugene objects. "Weren't you the one who figured out I was delivering something- toy like? Not a gun or something outlawed, it's-"

"An android," Kuroiwa explains.

"Andr-" Eugene blinks in pure shock, caught off guard again. "... wh... what in the... that's... that's so freaky. What exactly even gave it away?"

Kuroiwa folds her hands on her lap, becoming... content, with this discussion. The grand part about being impressive is having someone to discuss things with. E is proving himself an interesting "equal" with everything so far. Sure, she needs to be on guard, but it's clear that Eugene is making an effort to chat and converse. The man is putting her on a metaphorical pedestal, as the honored guest in this situation.

So, she indulges him with honesty. Fair honesty. Explaining to him that it began with the toy soldier...

"Pfft. Just a toy soldier?" Eugene asks.

"Yes. A small detail that isn't important, really. It helps to note every single detail you come across, every detail you find about a person. For example..." Kuroiwa leans back against the couch. "... while- stereotypical, imagine... a blonde woman dressed in revealing clothing. You have your assumptions about this woman, yes? How she might be- promiscuous, carelessly free-spirited?"

"I... I guess, but I don't think that's enough to really tell me anything about her," Eugene comments.

"Right. That's why you focus on more. What if I told you she has a handbag with a poodle inside of it, vibrant lipstick coating her lips, and designer sunglasses?" Kuroiwa asks.

Eugene... blinks in astonishment. "O... Oh. So that would be a supermodel. So she isn't as free-spirited, she has to keep up with beauty trends and stuff."

"Yes, but... that's simply one possibility, one that overwrote the previous possibility with new information," Kuroiwa comments, proudly grinning as she continues her chat. "Like what came after the toy soldier. The actual thing that gave you away was the instructions, taking back the instructions and leaving me with just a phone number. How the numbers don't match whatsoever. Do you have multiple phones, Eugene?"

Eugene nods. "Mhmm... in case an unwanted guy sees the paper and all, the contrasting phone number's meant to shake them off and all."

"Mhmm. The mystery of your name, the phones, all of that... it was the instigator for me to believe you were more than just E," Kuroiwa bluntly admits. "I erroneously believed you a psychological mastermind of deception, one that erases himself from the minds of other mercenaries. In hindsight... I was overestimating you."

"Still, you estimated me regardless. That counts for something," Eugene boldly comments, taking another sip of his tea before pouring himself another cup. "A guy with one single psychology class in high school... a psychology master! Hah."

"Yes, yes, that is quite... funny," Kuroiwa comments, grinning lightly as she continues. "This caused me to pay attention to other details. The large box, how careful you are with number 45... how it coincidentally lines up with '45k', compared to the other numbers. Forgive me for making this assumption, but... one of my suspicions is that you have OCD."

"OCD? That thing that makes you knock on the door three times, three times?" Eugene idly references, tilting his head.

"No," Kuroiwa answers, shutting that idea down immediately. "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Basically, obsessive thoughts - perhaps fears - leading to compulsive behaviors. You appear to organize a lot, from... how you organize your posters in clusters, how most of the figurines in your case are facing towards the wall across... even how you drink your tea."

"How I drink my tea...?" Eugene asks, tilting his head.

"Yes. This is a curious detail, an obscure one, but... I'm counting numbers in my head ever since your first sip," Kuroiwa begins to explain. "I've noticed you take a sip every twenty seconds, involuntarily."

"..." Eugene gulps down his tea as he gazes at Kuroiwa. "Holy shit."

"Yeah, it's... it's interesting," Kuroiwa honestly compliments, smiling. "Furthermore, your elaborate instructions to follow exactly, for example. It lines up with your anxiety about your identity, as well as your need to carry the boxes yourself. With that, I... made the guess that number 45 is important. Utilizing the potential, instinctive obsession with organization and detail you have."

"..." Eugene claps slightly. "Am- am I being diagnosed by a doctor right now, Chouko?"

"I'm not certified," Kuroiwa truthfully admits. "Once you gave away that my guess was correct, I... deduced it had to be connected to a toy. Hence, 'mint condition'... dolls came to mind."

"Right- right. Wow. You're-" Eugene idly stammers, in disbelief. "That's really cool."

"Yes. But for a life-sized toy, one that's about the shape of a human, I was sure it was an android, but there is no certainty without asking. There were countless hypotheses of what's inside... so, thanks to my word choice, you just proved at the start of this conversation that it's an android. You didn't deny it when I claimed it was an android, and- now that I'm bringing it to your attention..."

"..." Eugene takes another sip of his tea, blinking. "Woah. Y... Yeah, actually. The box contains an android..."

"Thank you for your confirmation. By how amazed you are at my deductions, I simply guessed on all of it," Kuroiwa admits, proudly grinning. "Psychology doesn't let someone read minds, contrary to popular opinion... a psychologist just generalizes and guesses to see what's likely. Basically, normal science. Hypothesis and testing and all."

Eugene puts his cup down and just nods. "Y... You're on a whole different level, Chouko!"

"Thank you, thank you..." Kuroiwa comments, smiling.

"S... So, wait, you're uncertified..." Eugene speaks up, leaning forward. "Why? You seem like you're capable enough to be a full blown psychologist. You notice all these things like a professional, apparently diagnosed that I have OCD-"

"Not officially," Kuroiwa interrupts.

"Right. What... what made you stop?" Eugene asks, tilting his head. "Why'd you give up on that?"

Kuroiwa stares at Eugene as he asks that, her smile fading. Staring at him with a serious glance, before... looking at her cup. Staring at the cup for a while.

Then, she answers.

"... n... none of it was for me," Chouko answers. "I just... I just didn't want to continue with university. Try as I might, I just... I couldn't make that final push, I couldn't run the companies I was expected to, and... and I just-"

"You ran away from it... and you disappeared..." Eugene finishes, interrupting the recap with what he knows. "... a... after, y'know, the... the thing, nine years ago..."

"..." Chouko goes silent, her eyes watering slightly. "Y... Yes... I... I guess I did..."

"I see... but... out of all things you could be... you chose the mercenary world...?" Eugene asks. "Being a messenger for a mercenary to deliver toy products across states... money's okay, but... for a girl like you, you could be doing something else with your life. Something easier, something better. Why do any of this?"

Chouko stares down at the coffee table for a bit, reaching out to try again to hold the cup. Copying Eugene's hand positions, holding the tea carefully- feeling the warmth of the beverage as she stares deeply into the tea itself.

Whatever semblance of a reflection she could see, Chouko gazes deeply into it. And for a brief moment, she begins to slip some of her explanation.

A pause of silence, the woman's red eyes gazing at Eugene for some time. Seeing his curious facial expression, his eyes gazing back as if waiting for an answer. An inquisitive look.

"..." Then, Kuroiwa... shakes her head. "I can't say."

Eugene pours another cup of tea for himself, pushing and pressing the topic. A friendly smile on his face, as if he's fallen into some casual comradery - camaraderie, a mutual friendship of trust - between the two. "C'mon. I won't tell. I'm just really curious about it. Might be a whole story to keep between us and all."

Kuroiwa simply answers with another shake of the head. They may be on "secrets within walls" terms, but she's keeping that to herself. She doesn't trust Eugene enough for any of it.

Who Eugene knows about, and should only know about right now... is Chouko Ashford.

Not the remains of Chouko. Not the Stalker, not whatever- Eugene simply knows about the woman sitting on his couch, invited in to partake in some tea. "Sorry. I... I simply- can't talk about it. Eugene, in full... honesty... it's something only I can bear."

Eugene- nods, after having pressed and pushed the topic. "O... Okay. I understand..."

"..." Kuroiwa... takes a moment to look at a clock in the house. Gazing at it, before putting the cup back down on the table. "Would you look at the time? I shall be excusing myself. Until next time, Eugene."

Kuroiwa decides that she can't accept the tea from Eugene, right now. Professional business only. Kuroiwa's hands putting the teacup down before she even takes a single sip.

She's already "spilled enough tea"...

... and is retreating from this conversation.