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The fact was, you never really knew your own limits until you’d killed someone – there was nothing else quite like it. To be sure, there was a deep sense of guilt, but Satake had also discovered in himself a tendency to enjoy inflicting pain, as well as a powerful charge from the proximity to death itself.

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I don't care,' she said. 'I want you to survive.'
'Why?...' His voice was barely audible. 'After what I did.'
'It would be like dying myself. I couldn't go on.'

Are you serious??? What kind of a terrible ending is this?!?!

'We should never have done this.'
'Shut up!' Masako yelled, lurching through the door and grabbing Yoshie by the collar. 'Don't you understand? They're after us!'
Yoshie looked at her blankly, as though she were speaking a foreign language.
'What do you mean?'
'Isn't it obvious? They sent us Kuniko!'
'I'm sure it's just a coincidence,' she whispered.
'How can you say that?!'
Everyone except Masako is an idiot

'Time to get up,' he said.
'No,' she murmured, clinging to him.
'Don't you have class?' She was probably still in her first year of high school - a girl, really, not a woman at all - but he was only interested in the young ones, so to him she was a woman.

Sir, the FBI would like a word.

She thought over what Yoshie had said about the dead being no different from the living, and she nodded to herself as she stood under the shower. A dead body was revolting, but it couldn't move. Miyamori, on the other hand, could still make a grab for her, and that, she thought, made him worse.

Exactly.