Chapter Text
PART 1
This is the point where everything changes.
There’s a detective, standing in the mountainside’s clearing. Just past the imposing torii gates. She huffs, her legs screaming after the long hike. The air smells of damp. Of things beginning to rot. Of moss and thick foliage. Of somehow, the ocean.
There’s a girl, by the shrine. Guarding the book, it seems.
The book itself is contained in a red-painted box, the color of which is almost completely hidden under the innumerable paper talismans pasted all over it. Large, thick woven ropes are wrapped around the whole affair, anchored to giant stone pillars surrounding the entire shrine. As if to further cement home the idea of “This place is bad news, please go home,” paper talismans are also pasted all throughout the entire area. The same energy as “If I wrap more tape around this box there’s no way it’ll get broken during shipping,” basically.
Standing by the box, with one hand firmly pressed against the box’s side, is a girl. Her hair is a dark purple, cut short, about two inches above the shoulders. Her ceremonial garb is a crisp white and gold. She regards the detective with cool, dark blue eyes.
“You reek of trouble, trespasser,” says the girl. Her expression is neutral. She remains close to the scary box in the middle of the shrine.
The detective makes a show of sniffing herself. Long, exaggerated inhales. She then says, “No, it’s probably the sweat from all that hiking I had to do to get here.”
“It’s a figure of speech,” the girl deadpans. “You are not welcome here.”
“Okay so the humor is a developed-with-age kind of thing huh,” says the detective. She goes ahead and sits on a nearby tree stump.
“Did you not hear me?” repeats the girl. She’s frowning now. “You are not welcome here, trespasser.”
“I get that a lot, you know,” goes the detective. She moves to light a cigarette. “Kind of a bummer to be told that. Makes me feel like I’m unwanted or something.”
The girl furrows her brows. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You’re unwanted here.”
The detective takes a long drag out of her cigarette. “Ouch man.”
The girl takes a while to respond. She stares long and hard at the box before returning her attention to the woman idly smoking away nearby. “What is your objective here, trespasser?” She squints. “Do I… know you?”
“Is there any way I can talk you out of doing what you’re doing right now?” says the detective, completely ignoring the girl’s second question. She pulls out a golden pocket watch from her coat. She fiddles with the dial, wraps the chain tightly around her wrist. She takes another long drag out of her cigarette.
“Doing what?” says the girl.
“C’mon, don’t play dumb.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Okay In – Okay. Sure. Is there any way I can stop you from doing that nothing you’re doing right now?” goes the detective. She’s burning through her cigarette, taking drag after drag.
“What were you about to call me?” asks the girl.
“An annoying little shit,” the detective barks back. She grimaces. “Sorry.”
The girl frowns.
“Sorry,” the detective repeats. “Fuck. I feel bad now.”
“That was mean,” the girl says simply. “Now please leave.”
“Afraid I can’t do that,” says the detective.
“Why?” asks the girl.
“Why not?” asks the detective.
“Are you really going to try to attempt to make me stop by annoying me?” says the girl. Her hand is still firmly pressed against the box. If anything, she’s pressing it harder against the box now.
“So you do admit that you’re doing something right now!” quips the detective, triumphantly grinning from ear to ear.
“This is an awful attempt, trespasser,” says the girl.
The detective flips the golden pocket watch in her hand over and over. She chuckles to herself. “You tell me.”
It seems the girl has had enough. She doesn’t say anything else. The detective rises to her feet again. Stretches. She feels a few bones pop into place. She pulls out a pen and notepad, which she flips open to an earmarked page. There, she crosses out the words “Annoy her enough to make her leave the book” listed under “Change Ina’s Fate Strategy!”
The detective winds the pocket watch. Just before she clicks down on the button, she looks at the girl, angry, and shouts “You know, when you grow up and get all gay and angsty with me you don’t get to fucking complain about the longing okay I did my part it’s your fault you’re so fucking stubborn!”
The girl looks around wildly confused. “What?”
“Nothing FORGET IT,” goes the detective, and click goes the pocket watch.