Studio MAPPA will create all the anime cutscenes for Persona 4: Revival. ATLUS announced the news at Anime Expo 2026, confirming that the studio behind Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and Attack on Titan: The Final Season is creating every animated scene in the game. MAPPA animation director Sota Yokote said, “I played Persona 1 through Persona 4 before starting this project,” adding that he wanted to understand the series and ensure the animation matched the world and feel of Persona.

From Yokota Air Base to Kumamoto. U.S. military aircraft airlifted tons of drinking water to support earthquake relief alongside the Japan Self-Defense Forces. Proud to work side-by-side with our Japanese allies to deliver aid where it is needed most. @YokotaAirBase @USFJ_J

Yoko’s various reactions Yoko’s Video Series 5 YOKO TAKAHASHI EVANGELION Live Tour 2026 -Nocturne-! Singapore 📅 19 December 2026 📍 Capitol Theatre 🔗Ticket Links: SISTIC： Ctrip： #evangelion# #TheCruelAngelsThesis# #YokoTakahashi#

Yoko’s Video Series 4 YOKO TAKAHASHI EVANGELION Live Tour 2026 -Nocturne-! Singapore! 📅 19 December 2026 📍 Capitol Theatre 🔗Ticket Links: SISTIC： Ctrip： #evangelion# #TheCruelAngelsThesis# #YokoTakahashi#

Yoko’s Video Series 2 Singapore🎵 YOKO TAKAHASHI EVANGELION Live Tour 2026 -Nocturne-! 📅 19 December 2026 📍 Capitol Theatre 🔗Ticket Links: SISTIC： Ctrip： #evangelion# #YokoTakahashi# #SingaporeAreYouReady# #TheCruelAngelsThesis#

Here are the details regarding the event in Costa Rica. 21 NOV 「Imperio Anime」 Palacio de los Deportes de Heredia #YokoTakahashi# #TheCruelAngelsThesis# #evangelion# #ImperioAnime# #CostaRica#

The headset crackled at 2:47 AM. I was a 22-year-old airman on radio watch at Yokota Air Base. The voice on the other end was a Japanese Air Self-Defense Force pilot flying blind over Sendai in zero visibility. His fuel was critical. Every single Japanese runway in the region was flooded, cratered, or without lights. His superiors couldn't be reached. He switched from flight English to his own language and whispered one phrase into the sky: "Tasukete kudasai." — Please help me. A dozen American airmen in that tower froze. Our commander's eyes went wet. The master sergeant next to me — a 25-year veteran who had flown in Desert Storm — slammed his hand on the console and shouted so loud the headsets rattled: "LIGHT THE WHOLE DAMN RUNWAY. CLEAR EVERY STRIP WE HAVE. OUR BROTHER IS COMING HOME TONIGHT." Within 90 seconds, Yokota lit up like Las Vegas. Every available fire truck lined the runway. Every available medic was standing by. NOBODY tells Americans what happened in the radio tower at Yokota that night. March 11, 2011. 2:47 AM. 7 hours after the quake. A JASDF F-2 pilot had been airborne for hours searching for survivors. Every runway on his home island was unusable. He wasn't allowed by protocol to land at a US base without approval. Protocol was dead that night. Did Yokota tower stand on bureaucracy and send him away? NOT. A. CHANCE. They cleared him in under 90 seconds. They lit every landing light they had. They scrambled fire crews and medics in case the fuel-starved F-2 crashed short. He touched down with 60 seconds of fuel left. When he climbed down from the cockpit, the Japanese pilot — a stoic career officer twice my age — walked straight up to our master sergeant. He didn't salute. He didn't bow. He hugged him. And he wept. The master sergeant whispered back in broken Japanese: "Arigato for trusting us, brother. You are home." That is the United States Air Force. That is what "ally" actually means at 2:47 in the morning.

A military wife was shaking at the ramp of my C-17. In one arm she held an American newborn. In the other she gripped her Japanese mother-in-law. Behind her stood her Japanese best friend of fifteen years, with that friend's three Japanese-born children. The wife looked at me and said, "They're not American citizens. Can they board? Please. Please. The reactor." I had thirty seconds to make a decision. I turned to my loadmaster. He was already waving them up the ramp. Behind him I could hear the squadron commander on the radio shouting one single order to every pilot in Yokota: "If they look at you with hope in their eyes, you put them on the plane. I don't care about their passport. I will take the court-martial. Nobody gets left behind. NOBODY." NOBODY tells Americans what the US Air Force quietly did at Yokota in late March 2011. March 17 - April 20, 2011. Operation Pacific Passage. Fukushima's reactors were still venting. The State Department had authorized voluntary departure. C-17s, C-5s, and chartered 747s were running round-the-clock evacuations. On paper: American citizens and dependents only. In reality: nobody at Yokota was going to look a crying Japanese grandmother in the eyes and say "no." Did the Air Force follow the passport-only rule? NOT. A. CHANCE. Loadmasters quietly waved aboard Japanese spouses, Japanese grandparents, Japanese best friends, Japanese daycare teachers, Japanese family dogs, and Japanese cats in carriers. Flight nurses gave their own blankets to Japanese toddlers. Pilots donated their crew meals to Japanese grandfathers who hadn't eaten properly in a week. By the end of Pacific Passage: Nearly 10,000 souls flown to safety at US bases across the Pacific. Not a single family of mixed Japanese-American heritage was separated. Not a single dog or cat was left behind. The Air Force sergeant who ran the Yokota loading desk later said: "If we had asked for passports, we would have torn families in half. Our job was to put people on planes. Not to break hearts." That is the United States Air Force. That is Operation Tomodachi you were never told about. Thank you, America. Japan will never, ever forget.