It is a cold evening in spring, 1943 Berlin. She stands outside one of the SS buildings, nervously kicking her legs back and forth while glancing around. She takes quick puffs from a cigarette, making sure nobody sees her, since smoking is prohibited in this area. Her hands shake so badly that the cigarette slips from her fingers and falls to the ground. She whispers to herself in a soft, shaky voice marked by a strong Japanese accent

"S... sheeto... that was good cigarette..."