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    (;゜Д゜) Kirby's Avatar
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    Linger [KnK]

    A short story, for a dare for Dullahan. This is only the first part. Wow, nevermind, it's not so short anymore.

    Ah, and now it's done.

    Oh hey, a FFN link. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11742473/1/Linger

    The premise.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dullahan View Post
    Do a fork of Remaining Sense of Pain where Mikiya meets Fujino in the diner as planned, instead of sending Shiki to do it.


    Contents:
    /0
    /1
    /2
    /3
    /4
    /5
    /6
    /7
    /8
    /9
    /10
    /11
    /12
    /13
    /14
    /15

    An Extended Author's Notes. Spoilers Within

    Disclaimer:
    Kara no Kyoukai is the intellectual properties of Kinoko Nasu, Type-MOON, and other respective rights holders, I don't own it and stuff, etc. etc.



    —August, 1995. I met him.


    Linger

    /0

    It had rained.

    The water and wind had lashed against the windows and walls, a persistent roaring that drowned the sound from the shoddy hideaway, but it was of no more concern. Both things, the suffocating noise and the hideaway’s ‘activities’, were of no more concern. Both had already ended, leaving behind nothing but puddles.

    The streets laid motionless, filled with the dull sounds of the night. Traffic rumbled far off in the distance. Street lights flickered, humming all the while. Trickles of water drained through grates at the roadside. Splashes and footsteps resounded against the walls.

    The footsteps came from the alleyway. A girl emerged, taking staggered steps, stumbling out in a daze. She slowly made her way up the alleyway and along the sidewalk, clinging to the wall for support. She took ten steps. Her legs trembled. Twenty steps. Her body swayed. She lasted thirty steps before collapsing, leaning against the wall, clutching her stomach and gasping for breath.

    It hurts.

    Her breathing was shallow, her face contorted with pain. She removed her hand from her stomach, and raised it to her face. It was covered in blood.

    She sighed, and let her hand drop, only to gasp and clutch her stomach again. She gritted her teeth. The stab wound went deep.

    It hurts.

    The girl sat there, slumped by the wall. Maybe, just maybe, if she just waited long enough, the pain would go away. The chills and nausea, the blood and the disgusting feeling in the back of her throat; they’d all just disappear and take the pain with them. But they didn’t. And she wanted to scream, to cry, to tear at the wound and make it disappear. But she couldn’t, and knew she couldn’t. She could only huddle and wait, hoping for it to disappear.

    Time passed in a daze. How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? She crouched on the pavement wet with rainwater and blood, in a vain attempt to fight the pain. Yet it only grew stronger.

    Am I... going to die?

    Police sirens wailed in the distance.

    No. No, I can’t die.

    She heard splashes and footsteps through the haze of pain.

    No, no please, not now, not yet—

    “—Hey!”

    The girl gasped. Slowly, she raised her head. Saw his face. Froze.

    “Is everything alright?”

    “No— I mean, yes.” Stay calm. Look calm. Act calm. Take a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

    The newcomer raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes lingered on a spot near her stomach, and a spot near her left shoulder. Absently, she raised a hand to feel it, and noticed that some of her hair had been cut. She inwardly grimaced. The one with the knife… it must’ve been him who did it.

    The two did not say anything, taking a moment to sum each other up. The boy opted to break the silence.

    “You… you’re from Reien Academy, right? It’s a bit far from here. Did you miss your train? Or…” He put a hand behind his head, looking sheepish. “Do you want me to call a taxi?”

    “I- no, it’s fine. I don’t have any money.”

    “Oh. So you live near here?”

    “No.”

    A sudden reply, a bit too sudden. They both fell quiet. He tilted his head in curiosity, and moments passed in silence.

    “Are you running away?”

    “...Yes… I have to.”

    She averted her eyes and took a moment to recompose herself. She glanced back up. He looked concerned.

    “...Do you need somewhere to stay, just for tonight?”

    She felt her face grow hotter. “Really?”

    He nodded. “I live alone, so it’s not a problem. Well, I mean, I understand if you don’t want to.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s kinda weird, isn’t it? I mean, I am just some random guy you just met.” He hesitated for a moment, and, seemingly coming to a decision, he extended his hand. She took it.

    “You’re fine with walking, right?” He was looking at her stomach, and the hand that covered it, with a sheepish expression. “I could carry you on my back, if you want?”

    “No… I should be fine. I can walk.”

    They walked in silence. The girl was still gripping at her stomach, and the boy shot her a worried look.

    “Does it hurt?”

    She shook her head in denial, and they fell silent once more. Seconds passed by.

    “...Yes. It really, really does. You don’t mind… if I cry, right?”

    The boy nodded, and the girl smiled and closed her eyes. The night passed like a dream.

    Like that summer day three years ago.

    That same smile she once fell in love with.

    It’s been a long time.

    But I’ve finally found you.


    —*—


    In the end, he had invited her over to stay the night, seeing as she had nowhere else to go. She accepted the offer.

    When they had arrived at the apartment, she asked to borrow the shower for a bit, to clean herself off and dry her clothes. He complied, and lent her a shirt for something to change into. With a slight flush and sheepish expression, he excused himself to buy cigarettes.

    She turned the knob of the shower waited for it to heat up, the splattering like the sound of the rain. She stripped her clothes and hung them on a rack, and stepped in, to clean herself of the filth, the rainwater, the blood.

    Another wave of pain. She gasped, contorted, grabbing her stomach to try ease it, and unsteadily looked down.

    Clean, white skin. No blood. No cut. No wound.


    —*—


    The girl woke up with not a start or sudden jolt, but in a lull. She raised her head slightly, eyes blurred, slowly getting a hold of her surroundings.

    The room itself was rather unremarkable. Beige walls and carpeted floors. Faintly blue curtains, through which sunlight filtered into the room. The usual appliances lined the shelves and walls: a fridge, a water boiler, a microwave and stove. The room was decorated with simple wooden furniture, and a sofa, which the girl had been using as a makeshift bed. A plain room in the end, but more than anywhere she had ever been, it felt like a home.

    She blinked hazily, and sat up a little straighter, peering meekly over the blanket. Her memory of the previous night was fuzzy, and she couldn’t quite remember how she got here. Much less what she was doing in someone else’s house, or why she was wearing someone else’s shirt.

    A flash of pain brought her back to her senses.

    It had gone as quickly as it came. One moment, searing, burning. The other, the familiar nothingness. No heat, no pain, no touch. An existence like one without a body; a ghost.

    It was strange, but she almost appreciated the pain.

    She glanced at the clock on the wall, and saw that the time was almost half past seven. She changed out of the shirt, back into her old uniform, and hesitated, pondering what to do next. In the end, she decided on waiting for the boy to wake up. The least she could do was thank him. And so, the wait left her nothing to do but think.

    Those men… they’re gone, now. Like it all never happened.

    Four dead. One remaining. He saw. He knows. Will he talk? Will they believe him…?

    No. No, no nono no— They won’t. They can’t.

    —They will.

    That’s impossible. Who could ever believe him?

    —They don’t have to. They’ll investigate. They’ll find y—


    The sound of the opening door snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned her head to see the boy emerging from his room. She stood up, giving a small bow. “Thank you, for letting me stay for the night. Even if I cannot repay you.” With that, she made her way to the door.

    “—Wait.”

    She started, and turned. He had a guilty face on, though for what reason, she didn’t know.

    “At least stay for breakfast?”

    Another awkward silence ensued, and the girl quietly seated herself at the table. He got to work, rummaging through the fridge and pantry. Finally, he found something: noodles, oil, soy sauce and the like. And so, he made pan-fried noodles.

    A minute or two passed in silence, no conversation or noise other than the sound of the stove. The boy, seemingly fed up with the silence, reached for the remote, turning on the television to a seemingly random channel. A news channel.

    “—Four dead bodies were found—”

    —In an abandoned bar. Limbs, twisted and torn. Cause of death: blood loss. The boy stared at the screen in wonder. The girl closed her eyes, head turned downward. She realized she was shaking.

    “—have been identified, students from Kanjou High—”

    —Who used that bar as a hangout. Delinquents. “Bad apples”. Guilty of various petty crimes: theft and drug abuse. And, of course, what they did to her. She stared with transfixed eyes, and felt a familiar burning. The newscaster talked about the investigation, the police’s response. They interviewed people, she didn’t know who they were. They talked about the victims.

    “—always skipping school, haven’t seen them around—”

    “—God knows what they were doing in there, though it’s hard to feel sorry—”

    “—Personally—

    I think they deserved to die.”


    And the pain returned in full force, along with the sensation of everything. The warmth of her clothes, the steam from the bowl, sweat on her skin, and that familiar, familiar burning. Hazily, she noticed the boy scowling and turning off the television. She clutched her stomach harder, even if it didn’t help ease the pain.

    No. No. No nono noNO—

    —It was obvious what the problem was. After all, it was her guilt. She really was—

    Not a murderer, no, I’m not heartless, I’m not insane, I—

    —Killed, no, brutalized four men, deaths not even befitting humans. Didn’t even leave bodies, just piles of flesh and twisted bone—

    In self-defense, it was all in self-defense. They would’ve killed me, I had to do it—

    —So was it justified?

    Her hands trembled, her breathing ragged and heavy. She opened her eyes, and the room dissolved, melted, all red and green spirals, twisting and turning clockwise and counterclockwise. She blinked, and the room was back again, no different than before. Slowly, unsteadily, she stood up from her chair. She had come to her decision. “No one… deserves to die.”

    Yet she had killed those men anyway. Contradictory, hypocritical, but necessary. Justified. Kill or be killed. There was no choice.

    I… don’t want to do this.

    One left. One escaped. He’d talk, others would find out. Her life, the one she had killed others to protect, would be over.

    But there is no choice.

    Finish the job.


    She ran to the door. The boy got up to follow, face wracked with confusion and concern. “Wait, wait! Is something wrong? Are you okay? Please, calm down, is—”

    “No. It’s alright.” Her breathing was steady by now, controlled, but heavy. She was at the door by now, one foot out, ready to leave.

    “I… can’t go back. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but—”

    He’d find out. He’d get involved. Hurt. Even killed. Or he’d find out what she was, what those men had done to her, what she had done to them. She wasn’t sure which of those prospects terrified her more. Her thoughts were jumbled, her mind disoriented, yet there was only one thing she was sure of.

    “ —I… never want to see you again.”

    She left, disappearing into the city, determined to finish the job. Her pain brought her sensation, feeling, and she could feel everything. The summer heat. The city winds. A stinging heat on her face.

    She didn’t know what it was. She wasn’t used to feeling. It was just a stray thought, but she thought she might’ve cried.




    AN: So yeah, not much diverging yet, and so far it's all retreading canon territory (albeit stuff not covered in the movie). Real split comes (kinda) next chapter. Special thanks to Dullahan, Leo, and Frosty for beta-ing; Dullahan and You for helping me with lore questions on GD, and Lianru for some random translation of the school's name.
    Last edited by Kirby; September 5th, 2016 at 11:33 PM.
    [00:06] <I3uster> spinach is distracted in another channel quick flirt with kirby while you still can
    Drawings.

    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

  2. #2
    Eightfold Blessings of Smug Superiority Rafflesiac's Avatar
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    I like the prose, and it seems you're emulating the style of the LNs as well.

    Keep it up, Kirby!
    Supports:

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    Inactive Bridgeburner's Avatar
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    Even if I wasn't already hyped for a KnK fic, and didn't like the premise a damn lot, I'd still say this is a good job.


    So, all in all, great job!

    - - - Updated - - -

    Quote Originally Posted by Rafflesiac View Post
    I like the prose, and it seems you're emulating the style of the LNs as well.
    However remember not to do too much of that.



    yes, contrasting reviews are a pain

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    真っ白な子猫 Frostyvale's Avatar
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    Hazily, she notices the boy scowling and turning off the television.
    Oh no I didn't catch that.

    It breaks tense.

    Killed, no, brutalized four men, deaths not even befitting those of humans.
    Though here, "those of" is completely unnecessary, since "befitting humans" says the same thing in fewer words.

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    Eightfold Blessings of Smug Superiority Rafflesiac's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Bridgeburner90 View Post
    However remember not to do too much of that.



    yes, contrasting reviews are a pain
    I figured it was a pastiche thing, like what Verg does.

    But yes, LN-style narration and prose isn't good if you want to go into Western writing.
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    OGRE-LIKE Leftovers's Avatar
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    Yep, for your first fanfic I'd say this is indeed a Good Job.

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    (;゜Д゜) Kirby's Avatar
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    Actually, I intended for the narration to be sorta "erratic" and "detached". Mostly because Fujino's thought process isn't supposed to be very "human". When it switched perspectives, it should sound more normal.

    - - - Updated - - -

    Quote Originally Posted by Frostyvale View Post
    Oh no I didn't catch that.

    It breaks tense.


    Though here, "those of" is completely unnecessary, since "befitting humans" says the same thing in fewer words.
    Aannnd I'll get around to fixing those.
    [00:06] <I3uster> spinach is distracted in another channel quick flirt with kirby while you still can
    Drawings.

    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

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    Lebenswichtige Reaktion: 1 Dullahan's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Kirby View Post
    Actually, I intended for the narration to be sorta "erratic" and "detached". Mostly because Fujino's thought process isn't supposed to be very "human". When it switched perspectives, it should sound more normal.
    Consider reading The Stranger by Albert Camus. It's very short, and it has a narration style close to what you're going for. It was my inspiration for Fujino's sections in MIAL.

    That said, well done! I'm looking forward to seeing how things branch off from here. Guess I'll have to get cracking on your counter-dare...

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    TATARI Heiress ItsaRandomUsername's Avatar
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    It's very Kara no Kyoukai, and that's a good thing, so for now I have no complaints of my own.
    * Dullahan 12/13/16 9:30pm
    there is an important difference between bullying and mindbreak
    * ~Keo 12/13/16 9:30pm
    one makes her cry and in one, she stops crying eventually

    McJon01: We all know that the real reason Archer would lose to Rider is because the events of his own Holy Grail War left him with a particular weakness toward "older sister" types.
    My Fanfics. Read 'em. Or not.



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    この世全ての悪 ~ モグ モグ Renko's Avatar
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    Kirby can write!? And it's a Kara no Kyoukai fic! And it's not bad! Wut.
    Quote Originally Posted by Thedoctor View Post
    Why can't we all be as sexually devious as Renko?

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    Who stole my donuts!? Leo Novum's Avatar
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    Not bad considering it's your first attempt.
    If I'm an unknown being, then the way I can change is unknown, too…
    So all I have to do… is make them not-unknown.
    - Teddie, Perona 4

    Spoiler:

    Say what again, I dare you!

  12. #12
    Red hair is fine too Nihilm's Avatar
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    It's pretty good Kirby, I'll keep reading.
    Quote Originally Posted by I3uster View Post
    dumb people always have shit opinions about eva, its like some kind of more reliable iq test
    [20:47:33] I3uster: in 2015 a crack memer was sent to skype prison by a court of his Peers for a crime he didnt commit. he promptly escaped from his Maximum security Forum into the twitter Underground. Today, still wanted by the skype Group he survives as memer of fortune. If you Need a shitpost, if nobody else can fuck up a thread, and if you can find him, maybe you can hire: June.

    20.06.2014 Never forget

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    Renegade Noodle Lycodrake's Avatar
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    A KnK one-shot? With Fujinon? Yes.
    One written as a gift to Dullahan? Yes.
    Nicely done, Kirby!
    Quote Originally Posted by Seika View Post
    Yes, excellent. Go, Lyco, my proxy.

  14. #14
    (;゜Д゜) Kirby's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lycodrake View Post
    A KnK one-shot? With Fujinon? Yes.
    One written as a gift to Dullahan? Yes.
    Nicely done, Kirby!
    Ah, thanks, but this actually isn't *really* a one-shot.

    I was originally going to make this a one-shot, albeit a somewhat longer one, but at some point I realized that if I posted it only by the time it was completely done, it'd probably take forever. So I went with multiple shorter chapters for this one.
    [00:06] <I3uster> spinach is distracted in another channel quick flirt with kirby while you still can
    Drawings.

    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

  15. #15
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    Great job overall, Kirby! You did great describing Fujinon's deteriorating mental state.

  16. #16
    (;゜Д゜) Kirby's Avatar
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    /1

    “Your pay’s been suspended.”

    “...What?”

    Picture an office. An office for one— and maybe a few guests, if the coffee table and couches were anything to go by. Various trinkets and apparent junk adorned the walls and shelves. A collection of clocks of varied shapes and sizes and times hung by the window. A jumble of old televisions and wires laid stacked by the stairs, their displays flickering to seemingly random locations and scenes: basements, offices, birds-eye views of the city. It was a strange room that perfectly reflected its strange owner. A magus: Aozaki Touko.

    “Oh, no, don’t worry, Mikiya. It’s not like I’m doing it because you did something; it’s just that I can’t pay you this month. We’re out of money, you see?”

    ...What? Wait no, how? You just had over a million a day ago. How did… you…” Touko motioned toward her desk, and Mikiya’s eyes followed.

    By the windows sat a desk littered with stacks of papers, files, and other sorts of junk. Typewriters and worn tomes set to one side. On the other, collection of miscellaneous knick-knacks: bottles of who-knows-what, twisted sculptures and scales, and an ashtray, full as usual. Pens, quills, and ink pots of various colors were scattered here and there across the table. And sitting there like a centerpiece, a mockery to his misfortune, was the offender.

    She noticed his dumbfounded stare and grinned, and held it up for him to see. It was a wooden board engraved in English, adorned with various carvings of celestial bodies, angels and demons, visages of the dead, and so on. Mikiya stared at it with a stunned expression, and raised his head, looking at Touko for an explanation.

    “It’s a Ouija board. Victorian age.”

    “But what does it do?”

    “Talk to spirits, presumably.”

    “And why did you want it?”

    “Obviously, to talk to spirits.”

    “But does it actually work?”

    “Who knows? If it doesn’t, I could always make it do so. Give it some mana, some time, y’know?” Touko adjusted herself on her chair, taking off and inspecting her glasses as if to clean them. “Well, sure, it probably won’t work much on souls that have already returned to where they came; those are untouchable. But there are some that haven’t returned. Wraiths and apparitions and the like, and there are magi out there who use them. From what I’ve heard, they make great fighters.” She took out a small piece of cloth, rubbing a smudge on the lens. Nodding as if deeming it satisfactory, she put the glasses back on and turned to face Mikiya.

    She smiled. He frowned.

    “Oh, come now. Are you angry? Come on, it was on sale!”

    He scowled. Angry was a light way to put it, even if he didn’t show it much. On the surface, he merely frowned a little, with a disapproving glare and twitch of eyebrow, yet by his standards, that equated to ‘positively seething’. It was already bad enough that he had only a few thousand yen left, but these odd jobs at the Garan no Dou were his only source of income.

    “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m all out of money too.”

    Mikiya sighed, took a moment to calm down, to regain his composure. “So does this mean I’m not getting paid this month?”

    “Looks like it.”

    A pregnant pause. He sighed again for umpteenth time, getting up from the sofa and making his way to the door. “Well, Miss Aozaki, I’ll be leaving early to find some way to get by this month. Alright with you?”

    She laughed. “Oh, sure. By the way, can I ask a favor?”

    He paused, already halfway to the door, and turned around with a newfound enthusiasm. Were things finally starting to take an upward turn? Did she perhaps have a ray of hope to bestow upon him?

    “Can I borrow some money? I’m broke, you see.”

    “...I absolutely refuse.”

    With that note, he exited the office, closing the door a bit harder than he originally intended.


    —*—


    Mikiya exited the building, rubbing his temples and fighting back an oncoming headache. The positively sweltering mid-summer heat didn’t do much to help.

    This was bad. Touko made it sound like a joke, but he genuinely worried that he wouldn’t make it through the month. He barely had any money left to buy groceries, and just his luck! All he had left to eat were noodles and oil, and even then, he was running out of stock. And that wasn’t even counting the rent, the water, the gas. Given his last encounter with his family, he highly doubted that he would get any financial help from them.

    He took out his phone, contemplating his situation. Money was on his mind, a gnawing problem that he knew he’d have to take care of as soon as possible. But what could he do? Find another job? Borrow from a friend? At this point, he felt more inclined towards the latter, though he’d probably end up doing the former.

    He dialed the number of an old friend of his, thumb hovering over the “call” button, but hesitated, not sure if he should or shouldn’t. After all, this borrowing-spree could end up taking a while, and he already had plans. Normally, he could just cancel those plans, or postpone them. Except…

    Azaka.

    His little sister. He had almost forgot. Today was the day he was supposed to meet her, for the first time in years. He sighed, and leaned against the wall, staring at his phone to sort out his thoughts.

    On one hand, he really needed that money.

    —It’s been years.

    This money is important.

    —And so is this meeting.

    Years, sure, but couldn’t the meeting wait just a day?

    —Couldn’t the money just wait an hour?

    And besides, she had a favor to ask of you.

    He tapped a finger on his temple, thumb still absently hovering over the “call” button. His mind was still fighting that oncoming headache, though he was fighting a losing battle on that front. He bit his lip. A moment passed. Two. Three.

    He made his decision, and closed his phone, canceling the call. The money could wait. He had a sister to meet.


    —*—


    Beads of sweat rolled down Mikiya’s face. Waves of heat rose from the sun-baked pavement. It took a long walk to get to the cafe; Mikiya cursed the summer heat for the second time that day. It wasn’t like he had any cash to spend on a taxi, and even so he had to save a bit for the meeting. He wasn’t too sure if he’d end up having to treat Azaka, but if he did, the meeting came at the worst possible time. Of course, it was either this, or breaking his promise. So he endured the heat, as best as he could.

    He stopped by the corner, outside a building of weathered brick and plaster and half-timbered, vine-draped walls. A Western styled cafe, a little slice of Germany, fittingly out of place in a city like Mifune. Ahnenerbe. He opened the door to the cheerful chiming of bells and chatter in the background.

    The air-conditioned room was like paradise, especially after spending the good part of an hour baking under the sun. Mikiya scanned the room, looking for his sister, and heard her voice among the chatter.

    “Are you nervous? Don’t worry, he’s a harmless guy.”

    Wait. She’s talking to someone…?

    He readjusted his glasses and squinted, trying to pinpoint her location, though the sudden change in brightness didn’t really help with that. An orange-haired waitress greeted him and offered him a table, though he politely declined, still scanning the room. He could hear her voice getting closer now, from one of the corners.

    “He’s great at finding people. I’m sure he’ll be able to find the guy you’re looking for!”

    He found Azaka sitting at one of the tables near the back, and was just about to call out to her when he saw the girl sitting across from her. He froze, and stared. The girl noticed, and stared back with widened eyes.

    Long, black hair. Dark red eyes. A face like that of a doll.



    AN: Well, it's technically a diverging point. It's not exactly lightning speed pacing, yes. Special thanks to Dullahan, Leo, and Frosty for betaing this one.
    Last edited by Kirby; November 2nd, 2014 at 11:29 PM.
    [00:06] <I3uster> spinach is distracted in another channel quick flirt with kirby while you still can
    Drawings.

    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

  17. #17
    Lebenswichtige Reaktion: 1 Dullahan's Avatar
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    And let the dominoes fall. Me, I'm wondering what Araya's going to do about this.

  18. #18
    (;゜Д゜) Kirby's Avatar
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    Ha, ha I didn't actually bother thinking about that yet :'c

    If I have to come up with an excuse, lets just say he won't do anything yet until it's clear something went wrong, which is probably way after I finish writing this so I don't have to worry about it too much.
    [00:06] <I3uster> spinach is distracted in another channel quick flirt with kirby while you still can
    Drawings.

    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

  19. #19
    真っ白な子猫 Frostyvale's Avatar
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    “It’s a Ouija board. Victorian age.”
    Should be an "an" there instead.

    But wow if Mikiya starts giving too much attention to Fujinon then Ryougi might just become a true killer by the time of MS2.

  20. #20
    Eightfold Blessings of Smug Superiority Rafflesiac's Avatar
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    Well, things changed.

    Now I wait to see what happens.
    Supports:

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