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[center][h2][color=#406f40]Joel Shcroeder[/color] [/h2] [/center]
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Location: Town Center
Interacting With: Mitsukuri [@BlueSky44] 
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He had heard the young wounded women in phases, piecing together the self-righteous rant she spewed in Japanese. While the majority was lost on his ears, he understood the base of her statements and questions. [i]"Why would you kill her?"[/i] she had demanded angrily at the professor. His eyes had wandered from the back of his skull to focus on her blurred face and managed to slur a question in broken Japanese.

[color=#406f40]"Yōgo `jihi kiringu" hōrudo-chi wa, anata ni shite imasu ka?"[/color]

He asked, stumbled to his feet for the second time that evening, almost falling again as he felt a wave of nausea and lightheadedness slam into him from the blood loss. 

[color=#406f40]"Kanojo no hada wa yōyū shi, kanojo ga ikite sore jishin no ue sadizumu kōi ni naru yō ni suru, hakuri shimashita. Anata ga kanojo o ataeta yuiitsu no chansu wa kizutsuke, kanojo ga hikiokoshita fukō o sanshō suru kotodeshita."[/color]

Holding pressure to the bleeding gash across his forehead, he continued without giving her a chance to interject.

[color=#406f40]"Osoraku, dōtoku no kankaku wa watashi no mono to kotonatte iruga, hosuto ga sarani kiseichū wa gōmondearu hikiokosu tame ni sore o kyōsei-teki ni aisuruhito no shi o mite mimashoushimasu."[/color]

Having said his piece, he stumbled slowly to a chair and sat down, maintaining pressure to his forehead as he waited for medical attention, completely apathetic of the surrounding reporters. 

[color=#406f40] "And when you've finished with your most attentive business, I would ask you to join me for conversation and a drink."[/color] 
He called to her, reaching into his inner jacket pocket and producing a card with his name and number on the front in bold font, his fingers extending the business card to her.