star noise..
✕✕✕☆☆
“Are you happy?”
There are a handful of people in the game that have taken a drastic turnaround in opinion, and Shoko perhaps suffered the worst for it.
(This got s o l o n g… Long enough for a cut!)
For almost the whole game, Manolo respected Shoko. They were never quite friends, with most dialogue between them being shared over bloodied rooms and lost fish – in other words, it was obligation that put them together. But Manolo had accepted that would be the case for many people, and he was just happy that if there was one person he had to trust not to drop a fish tank down the stairs, it was Shoko.
In many ways he looked up to her, believing her to be an irreplaceable asset to the group’s survival. She worked fast and hard to find evidence, and she had many clever suggestions on how to test more intangible clues like injuries. Even though the closest thing they had to a bonding experience was transporting Bopper Raspberry to the aquarium to keep her safe (an experience where for perhaps the first time, he was able to privately express his fear of not living to escape, even if just for a few words), he still wondered if there would ever be a breakthrough in friendship.
At the very least, Manolo put a lot of trust in Shoko. Before the blackout motive guided him right into a whirlwind romance, he had planned to tell her about his keycard tracker. He knew that if it fell into the hands of someone who murdered him, it would become a very, very dangerous, especially if his killer escaped justice. Manolo knew that at least one other person needed to be told, and at the time he felt that he could trust Shoko with this information – and his life, knowing that this knowledge would instantly make him a desirable target if she ever did succumb to the motives.
Ultimately he switched to only letting Iori and Kenshin in on the secret, thus why he tried to give Iori his blazer (and the tracker hidden in a pocket) before what he thought would be his execution, but despite what his internal narration suggested he wouldn’t have been too worried if Shoko looked through his jacket. After all, Shoko was also trying to help save his life, and that too instilled a lot of trust in her.
And then, the seventh trial happened.
Manolo Yamauchi’s sense of morality and justice is very self-centered, and just about black-and-white. Putting it simply, he will defend his loved ones to the very last moment, at the expense of all others. Going on a tangent for a moment: This is what happened to Keilani Akai, a former friend he would later compare Shoko to. Kei had realized that their mutual friend Hiro Igarashi had been skimming donations away from their intended recipients and using it to fund his own needs, or the needs of his friends. Even Manolo was unwittingly benefitting through gifts of tickets and new games and new equipment. Kei was planning on exposing Hiro and wanted to let Manolo know in advance, if only so that he could duck out before everything hit the fan. But he trusted Hiro more than he ever trusted Keilani, so he rejected any evidence she put forward. Kei eventually had to push forward with no support, and was harassed and threatened by other gamers until she had no choice but to abandon all her social accounts.
In short, Manolo can and will throw those he considers “lesser” friends to the hounds if it means protecting his best friends. Or his lovers.
What probably hurt Manolo the most was what Shoko did to drag a confession out. She deliberately exploited the bond Kenshin and Iori had, along with Kenshin’s own fears and traumas. She dangled Iori’s life on a fish hook and hoped that Kenshin would be so broken up at the idea of their death that he’d have no choice but to confess (a false confession, surely, because there was no way he could have really been the killer). Kenshin and Iori were brought to the point of tears, to the point of yelling, and everything broke and Manolo was left holding his boyfriend until he was yanked away to be slaughtered.
But he couldn’t blame him, or Iori. This isn’t to say that he wasn’t upset at all with what they did, mostly over being left out of the loop, but he would ultimately forgive both of them. Instead, the rest of his blame was redirected to “lesser friends”. Like Shoko.
Manolo hated everyone for what they did to him and Kenshin and Iori, but he put most of the blame on Shoko. It was her test, as far as he knows. Her accusation towards Iori. Her vote for them. Her reveal of the gun. She was a leader in bringing so many other murderers to justice, but she had the misfortune of having to reveal someone that Manolo loved to be a killer.
Objectively, he is aware that she was in the right. It was a matter of saving the innocents in the group, really: That’s why he started to hold back on defaults after Shigeru was executed. That’s why he voted to kill Hibiki, Sully, even Miko. But Shoko Maeno threatened Iori until Kenshin broke down, and somehow this is different from everything else. Somehow everything else was perfectly acceptable, but this meant she was cruel and coercive and manipulative.
Manolo Yamauchi is selfish.
There was still some room for improvement during the final week. His illness made the lines between Shoko and Keilani blur in his mind, and right before his punishment he realized that he wanted to apologize to the latter. Some of those feelings did bleed over to Shoko thanks to the fog-induced sickiness, but it was not enough to ever repair whatever friendship they could have had.
The only, only reason she regained a star on his relationships page was because she had some influence over bringing Keita to justice – she ultimately proved that she would be important to finding the Mastermind, something he still believed after all that happened. (In fact, despite Manolo considering murdering Shoko, it was her input in trials that made him reconsider; she would have been unlikely to be his first victim, and even Alice or Misaki had equal chances for his second victim. Also it totally would have been too obvious it was someone with a grudge.)
Shoko left to guaranteed safety, something he totally expected she would do and does not fault her for. If they never see each other again? He’s more than fine with that, too. Her job is done, and she can go back to wherever she came from now – maybe Hell for all he knows and cares. He isn’t even aware that he was in possession of a sentimental item of hers, and unless he dumped all his capsule items on a non-Shoko person before they left, it was likely lost in the explosion. (Or, if capsules are indestructible… Yes, he probably burned the pillow pest for warmth at some point. rip in pieces.)
Sometimes, Manolo does think about her, and he wonders if it ever really was too late to ever make amends.
When Manolo wakes up from nightmares of crocodiles and crucifixes and bleach, he understands that there was never a chance he could forgive Shoko.
