Koharu: Useless. As usual.

Koharu is lying on the couch, with her head on Yosuke’s lap and using her legs to prop up her laptop, which she unceremoniously slams shut.

Yosuke: You know, I don’t think the internet is supposed to contain confidential information about ongoing police investigations… in all fairness? I mean.

Koharu: Suppose you’re right. (she looks up towards him)

Yosuke: (he smiles back) … That’s shockingly uncharacteristic of you.

Koharu: Been nothing but uncharacteristic these last few weeks. (she sighs)

Yosuke: Eh, you’re ambitious when it comes to investigating. That’s pretty consistent.

Koharu: So I’m biting off more than I can chew?

Yosuke: I thought you didn’t know that expression.

Koharu: … I’m not that autistic.

Yosuke: N-No, I meant, you don’t know it, as in, it doesn’t apply to y—Never mind. (she keeps staring at him) I-I don’t think you’re in over your head or anything!

Koharu: … (she looks away) Guess this is the first case we’ve tackled that doesn’t really… directly involve us.

Yosuke: Well, and this is like, police territory. When it’s Puella stuff, we at least have the benefit of being in the know. We have to solve it because no one else can, but—

Koharu: This is Puella stuff.

Yosuke: I dunno, I’m kinda hoping for a regular old freak to roll into town and stir shit for once. What is it supernatural loonies want in this place anyways? Something in the water?

Koharu: You tell me.

Yosuke: A-Ah, well—(he suddenly cuts off what he was about to say as he catches a glimpse of the TV screen on the other side of the living room in the corner of his eye)

Koharu: (as soon as Yosuke sits up straight, the level of comfort on his lap takes a significant nosedive) Ow. What gives?

Yosuke: T-Turn the sound back on! It’s about the thing!

Feeling around for the remote, Koharu manages to pull it out from underneath a pillow and increases the volume on the television.

“—was identified as Munehiro Abe, a 67-year-old former school teacher, who recently moved into the neighborhood with his wife following his retirement. Police have refrained from sharing any further information, a decision which, according to a spokesperson, was made to quell the widespread speculation that has arisen as a result of this recent string of—”

Yosuke: What do they mean, “speculation”? This isn’t our guy, right? Our guy goes after the homel—

Koharu: I know that man.

Yosuke: Wh—the victim? Why’d you know a 67-year-old retired sch—Oh.

Koharu: That was my middle school geography teacher.

Yosuke: How come you can’t even remember the names of your own friends but you do recognize your old geography teacher?

Koharu: What do you mean?

Yosuke: (he sighs) … What’s my name?

Koharu: Yosuke.

Yosuke: Surname?

Koharu: (she frowns) … Shut up. I forget names, but I remember faces.

Yosuke: Guess all the staring does have its uses, huh.

Koharu: (she keeps staring at the television screen)

Yosuke: T-That was a joke, you know? I… I was kidding.

Koharu: … What did that man ever do to deserve… being butchered like this? He… He only cared about his students… his wife, and his children and his grandchildren. He never complained. Not once. And… Just because someone’s out there, murdering for murder’s sake.

Yosuke: I… (he looks for Koharu’s hand, squeezing it tightly) I’m sorry, senpai.

Koharu: We have to get to the bottom of this. I’m sorry, but… I can’t give up on this.

Yosuke: I can’t give up on you either… I-I mean, on this case, on pursuing it, eh, helping you pursue it, but—

Koharu: I know.

Yosuke: Yeah…

Koharu: …

Yosuke: …

Koharu: …

Yosuke: … it’s, eh, Nisioka, by the way. My last name, I mean. I guess you might think calling me by my first name is a bit weird, since I’m an underclassman and all—

Koharu: … I knew that.

Yosuke: Uh-huh.

Koharu: I knew that, Yosuke.
Yosuke: (he snickers in relief) … Thanks, Koharu.