O-Ren chose the depths of Shibuya, weaving though the throngs of people. As a wave of steam passed by her cheek, she inhaled and murmured, "After we kill him, we're having noodles." She found herself hoping that her subconscious, if that was what this was, wouldn't send them back immediately.

Coming to a door that looked not that different than many other doors, O-Ren squinted at the writing on the sign, and finally pushed the door open. What a lot of leather.