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But the new photo popping up on her phone made Hiratsuka Shizuka's eyes go wide.
She'd assumed Hanabana Tarou was just another sleep-deprived idiot, but—no—he'd actually sent proof.
She tapped the image and zoomed in: an old-fashioned Japanese estate, its outer wall lined with gaudy motorcycles.
The gate, inside and out, was crowded with people.
Because it was taken at night, you couldn't make out faces very well.
She stared for a long moment before i ...
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