Master of Orbs

[Zerlina]

Flames.

A million flames.

Hot air burning in my throat…I’m choking…my body is pain.

“…the fire started due to mechanical failure with an electric stove on the fourth floor.”

What?

“…twenty two tenants have been confirmed dead,  in one of the most deadly fires to hit this year.

Of the four survivors, three are now in critical condition and one is now stable according to hospital officials.”

Yuki lay in bed for a while with her eyes open. The fan on her ceiling turned over and over again, its reflection cast in her blank eyes.

It was autumn.

She shivered, and pulled her blanket closer. For a while now, the fan switch had jammed so that it always turned on with the light it was attached to. Though she was past the age when monsters still lingered in her closet, Yuki was willing to sacrifice a bit of heat for the comfort of light.

“Are you awake?” Jiro placed his shopping bag on the table by the door, and changed into his slippers “Hey. The radio alarm went off a while ago.”

Yuki stared at Jiro for a moment. He was a scrawny man with crooked teeth and fat hands. Clumsy and awkward.

“You should get up.” He said “Look, I’ve had to do your shopping. Are you still sick?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should make yourself something to eat then.”

A smile came onto Yuki’s face. Amused but not happy.

“Are you going out, Jiro?”

“Maybe. Why, did you want to do something?”

“No.” she turned over and faced the window, lying there for a moment then sitting up “I should have gone to Narita last night.”

“Why?” asked Jiro, crouching beside her and opening his arms for an embrace.

She stared at him and hesitantly and then got up “I have to be back early. Where’d you put my toothbrush?”

“Same place it’s always been.” Said Jiro.

Yuki ignored his offer of affection and walked into the washroom. She turned on the light. There were three toothbrushes.

“You forgot to put hers away.” She said calmly.

“What?”

*

It was a long train ride to Narita, but a comfortable one. Rows of country houses passed by in the window. Homes full of memories would soon be between her and Jiro.

“Narita. Now arriving at Narita.” She shook herself out of her daze, and picked up her bag.

*

The train sped away over a bed of steel tracks and round black stones. Yuki turned and stared at the road in front of her- a city and community opening its arms for her, calling her home to its comfort.

But she could not leave just yet.

She turned around and faced the tracks. No, not to go back to him.

A light flickered among the black stones which lay beneath the train tracks. She dropped her bag, and, stepped off the platform with the obsession of a magpie and the silence of a sleeping child.

Removing her glove, she reached out to grab it. A small, round orb, beautiful and blue. It must have been some sort of pendant someone had dropped…but where was the hole where a chain would be fixed? It was perfect and unpierced.

She turned it over a few times, looking at it in the shade, in the sun, covering light with her hand. For however long she crouched on the tracks, it seemed to her like only moments.

When the train came, she didn’t notice.

*

She was falling, reality slipping away like a tangible dream. There was a pain in the back of her head. She hit it against something.

When finally she awoke, she found herself in a woodland grove, her hair mussed in the grass, and her back aching terribly.

[Prpl_Mage]

Marduki was sitting in front of his sisters grave. He prayed for her sanctuary and that she was doing well. That she would continue to watch over him.
-"Rise undertaker." Said a voice from behind, Marduki rose to his feet. It was an order just as anything else he was given.
-"There was a duel outside the city walls. Do your task undertaker..." Continued the man. It was a town guard, enforcer of the law... And they was worth a lot more than him.
He was an undertaker, proud of his trade but with hatred for people seeing him as an animal.
He didn't reply, that would be unwise. He nodded respectfully and waited for the guard to leave before heading down the streets.

They where bustling as ever, there were some foreigners. The only other people than he and the eni who was treated like dirt. Mostly because of their faith:
They didn't believe in the bushi. They followed one god, and a false god of course. They came with their items, vares and engineering. Things that was a luxery even to the social calsses above him. He couldn't even wish to buy a clockwork or one of those things they called suits.
He went to the city gates, they were open during daytime so it was no problem to travel through it. he knew that anothe man was dead because of honour and pride. It made him a bit sad but the man died as a warrior with his sword in his hands. There was nothing more you could ask of.

The air was fresh, all the peasants was working with stamina as always. They where worth more than him as well. They made sure that everyone had the choice between starving and eating. They where always working hard. like him but in a different way.

He walked slowly as he saw the crowd around what he supposed was the body. The forest nearby seemed to shine as happily as ever. Nature truly ignored the ways of humans as long as it didn't affect it. Spirits lived in the forest so entering it would be unwise.
He quickly buttoned his robe and schrouded his face in a silken scarf before aproaching the crowd with a bow.
He wasn't supposed to say anything, the other contestant would speak the man's man and tell him how well he died. Anything else would be dissrespectful. They knew and he knew. They would never be the same.

(OOC. Feel free to butt in. Wherever you want really. Found it a bit hard to link myself to the future world as I'm from the past.
But I think I got everything I had in mind by writing this.)

[Moosetroop11]

"And take a look at this one."

Corgan found himself face to face with a pair of distant eyes, sunk into a pale face which had long lost it's warmth. The man lying on the autopsy table before him had short hair matted with blood; his t-shirt and jeans were a little torn and covered with dirt. He'd obviously had quite an accident- but these observations were trivial compared to the expression the corpse was wearing. Corgan had never seen such anguish upon a face, let alone a lifeless one- it was as if the man was still dying, in slow motion, every drop of sand in his hourglass plunging another dagger into his heart. Corgan frowned and forced his attention elsewhere. His gaze laid to rest upon the man's hand, still clasping something.

"What's the story, Ko? I'm pretty busy."

"This man" began the balding scientist, each word deliberate and monotone as usual, "was found dead a day ago. Since then, he has begun to awaken twice."

"Begun to awaken? As in he won't stay dead?"

"He moves" confirmed the grey man. "He even cried out the first time. What could cause this?"

Corgan risked a glance back to the man's face and the picture of agony became a little clearer. "I've never seen anything like it."

"We believe that he would normally have the power to regenerate completely. But look at this:" The grey man took out an immaculately folded sheet of paper from his lab coat and straightened it out. The image upon it was an x-ray. "We didn't want to risk opening him up. But this shape here is definately a shard of something in his heart, and through the left lung. We believe that some power is forcing him to cling onto life but the shard is preventing him from breathing."

"Can we take it out?"

The chief of science shook his head. "No. Not without causing irreparable damage. I called you here because you have the most practical experience with Faelene in the building."

"Faelene? You mean magic, right?"

The scientist winced. "Magic, by definition, defys the laws of nature. It is fiction." His speech was finally getting a little faster, as he pointed to the man on the table. "This is very real, Corgan, and Faelene particles are involved. My point is, can you bring this man a peaceful death?"

Corgan gazed over the corpse. "A shot to the head might do it. Sounds like a sort of zombie to me. But... do you know what's in his hand? He's got a death's grip on that thing."

"No idea" admitted the scientist. "We haven't tried to remove it since the first time he woke up."

Corgan could almost see the object in the man's hand; it seemed to sparkle. He couldn't understand the scientist's disinterest in it- he wanted a closer look at that object more than anything in the world.
Corgan shook his head. "It's that thing he's got in his hand. Cut his arm off or something and put the object in the vault."
He turned away. "I'm late for my next job anyway. Say hi to Jemma when she comes in."

With that he walked away, his mood a little darker than it had been as he strolled in. He had had plenty of experience with magical artifacts in the past, and he was determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and the orb resting in the dead man's hand.

[Zerlina]

Ancient fluorescent lights flickered as Corgan made his way down the hallway, writing some notes as he went. As he brought up his hand to scratch beneath his salty-brown hair, he heard the faint hum of voices.

“Another one? Just like the man?”

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

Two females conversed behind a door, and –without thinking- Corgan stopped to listen.

“Nothing should be left, but the body’s in good condition.”

“I admit, it would seem impossible…but my eyes can’t lie to me. A heart attack I would believe…but an accident like that?’

*

Yuki stared at the sky with jaded eyes. How long had she lain there for- as foolish looking as a pixie?

All around her rose the sounds of nature. Birds, the rustling of leaves- everything but the sounds of Narita Station. As if this weren’t odd enough, an awful smell lingered in the air.

She sighed, deciding it was time to turn over. And so, with shaky hands she did so, and came face to face with a corpse.

She let out a loud scream, and came to her feet faster than oil jumping from a heated pot. In this sunny grove where the birds chirped and flowers blew in the wind, bodies and blood lay all about. Yuki turned, and brought her hands to her stomach to avoid throwing up. Hunched slightly, she ran as fast as she could through the woods, never stopping to look back. When finally she was far enough, she fell to her knees, still fighting the urge to let her stomach give.

Where was she? What had happened to the train? She’d awoken that morning- with Jiro? And then what? The train ride… dead bodies?

“…may his spirit dissolve into the world, and his heart no longer be burdened…”

Yuki looked up from where she was hunched on the ground. There were several people gathered together, all dressed in kimono.

Is it…a funeral?

How had she gotten to a graveyard?

The smell of death still lingering behind her nose, she rose to her feet, standing awkwardly for a moment. She wasn’t sure what to do- to ask these people for help? Or to keep on walking? She had no idea where she was, but in the middle of a funeral, who would respond to her properly?

The wind blew slightly, and she caught the side of her kimono out of cautiousness…wait…kimono? She brought up her hand to touch the soft silk which was lain about her skin. Why was she dressed in this way? In this garment she’d never seen? And, more importantly, why was the right crossed over the left, as if she were dead. For a moment, the confusion of the situation made her mind jump. What if she had died and now watched her own funeral in some twisted post-mortal torture? Hysterical and still disoriented, she rushed to the site of the ceremony and viewed the body. It wasn’t hers.

She looked at those who had come to remember. They stared at her with stern expressions. For all they knew, she had just run into the middle of a funeral.

“I…I’m sorry…” she began, giving a bow. But the monk did not look pleased in the fact that she’d interrupted his speech. She bowed once more to him, and –deciding to wait until the ceremony had been finished- stood awkwardly amongst those left behind.

[Moosetroop11]

Corgan rested for a moment, placing his hands on his back and standing up straight. He liked trains but the seats left him feeling stiff.

The place was fairly normal... a long, light brown station with years of grime inhabiting the inside corners and crevices. There was a train driver and a security officer discussing something. Corgan wandered over.

"Afternoon" Corgan began, drawing the attention of the moustached train driver and the woman in the security uniform. She sighed.

"Can I help you?"

"I hear you had a report of a train hitting a person...?"

The train driver responded immediately. "I swear there was this young lady in the middle of the tracks. I wasn't even supposed to stop at this station. The train plowed straight into her. This sort of thing has never happened before..."

"We're not sure we have an incident yet" interrupted the security woman, her dark hair tied back in a bun. This man says he hit a woman but we can't find her body. We haven't found anything."

Corgan breathed out. Death wasn't playing predictably today. "I'm from the government." He flashed a card at the woman. "This is out of your field. We got word of a magical disturbance around this area at about the time your driver says he hit the girl. Chances are something complicated happened.

"Magical?" spat the officer. "Whatever. This is a non-case anyway." She walked briskly off and Corgan turned to the train driver.

"So what do you think happened?" Asked the rotund man nervously. He looked genuine.

"Hopefully, not much. The 'girl' you hit could have been something else entirely... But I'm not really sure." He stopped for a moment to feel his surroundings. If there was much magical activity here he would feel it. He would be absorbing some of it.  But there was nothing. "Whatever it was, it's gone now. I wouldn't worry about it. You would've hit the body that way right?" He gestured in a direction. The driver nodded. "Right."

[Zerlina]

Fujiwara Kenshin stood at the train station, watching Corgan with eyes that had been faded by years of cigarette smoke, and hair that had been salted and thinned. When there came a lull in the conversation and Corgan was allowed a moment to flesh out his notes, Kenshin finally moved toward him.

He cleared his throat.

Twice.

Corgan looked up from his notes at the man, and there was an awkward silence.

“My daughter hasn’t come home yet.” Kenshin finally said.

“I’m very sorry, but you’ll have to tell an officer at the station, not me.”

“No.” said Kenshin “I think she was the one who was hit by the train.”

“Sir, I would not worry-”

“I’m sorry to disagree, but I am worrying. Not only for her, but-”

“But for who?”

“For us, sir. For us.”

Corgan lowered his notes, as if waiting for Kenshin to say he was a diagnosed madman.

“Do you have time to spare, sir?” Kenshin began “My wife and my mother are at home right now, preparing dinner. If you would be so kind as to oblige my invitation, I…I would like to tell you something.”

“Sir, I apologize, but I -”

“My Yuki was not the only one who has had something mysterious like this happen to her, is she?”

Corgan grew silent.

“If I’m correct there should be others. Others who should have died, but have gone missing…or been frozen in-between regeneration and death.

Sir, this is no coincidence at all. And I fear that if I say nothing, my daughter may be in danger. Us and all the others as well.

Please, sir, grant me your prescence at tea and supper. It is not much that I ask of you.”

Kenshin stared at Corgan, expectantly, his face carved with wrinkles and his face tanned from years beneath the sun. His hands were wrinkled and rough, and his skin was spotted with freckles. Yet, despite all this, it was obvious that in his youth he had been a handsome man- one with a narrow face and strong jaw, thin, refined lips and rounded eyes.

[Prpl_Mage]

Marduki walked up to the woman who seemed rather out of place as she stood at the graveyard.
The evening was closing in and the salutes would be given by walking down along the city's road all the way to the river bank. Lanterns would be placed at the water's surface and sail of into the sunset to guide the man's spirit.

-"Pardons miss but are you a relative?" He asked carefully, the man who lost the duel was of peasant class but he didn't know how close friends he had and such.

-"We will pay our respect down at the river." He began ut stopped as he studied her face for a second.
-"Relative or not, please do join us." He said and bowed respectfully.
That's when he also noticed the kimono, it wasn't strapped correctly. He didn't want to comment this since it could be a spirit grieving her brother's death. He knew better than to anger spirits.

-"Tell me... You look confused." He said while offering the woman his arm for support.

-"Is there anything amiss? You can speak with me. Everything I hear is only spoken to the departed." He said and carefully smiled as he began to walk against the group who already was about five meters ahead of them.

[Zerlina]

((Feel free to control other peoples’ characters- I thought we decided it would be novel-style rather than pure rp style?))

Yuki studied the man who spoke to her. His words were odd and archaic, with an accent she could barely recognize, yet could easily understand. He could see her- that was a certainty. At least she thought I know I’m not a ghost- lest he’s some kind of medium.

As for his questions, she could not answer them. Was she a relative? No…but then what explanation could she give for showing up? Should she tell him her unbelievable tale? He had more to worry about. And so she simply listened, saying nothing, but nodding slowly to show she was hearing him.

"Is there anything amiss? You can speak with me. Everything I hear is only spoken to the departed." The man said.

“In fact, there is something amiss,” Yuki began, surprising herself with the accent which sounded similar to the man’s “You see I- I’m lost. Though it would seem more as if I’ve wandered into a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?”

“Indeed. A nightmare. I feel as if only a moment ago I was tucked safely in bed, and the next, I was jolted awake, showered with frigid water, forced to run a marathon, and then beaten halfway into the ground by monsters who I’ve up till now thought of as imaginary.”

The man was speechless, either out of surprise or amusement. Yuki, it must be told, was never one to be able to tell when certain explanations were and weren’t called for.

“You say you will go to the river…” she continued, clearing her throat after the silence “Tell me- who is the man who has died? And of what importance is he that all here who are gathered would dress in garbs of antiquity?”

[Prpl_Mage]

-"Dress in garbs of antiquity?" He said slowly and looked at her a bit surprised.

-"We've been using kimono and garbs like this since the beginning of time. I thought they did so in the countryside as well..." Marduki began but got lost in his thoughts.

-"Yeah, well...um." The girl began but he smiled in return, in an attempt to soothe her from uncomfortability.

-"Do not trouble yourself with that, I won't ask. There are few around here who are half-japaneese and half-westernmen, but I won't judge." He said and smiled, people like that were at the same height at him in the hirachy.

-"But it's no-" She began again but he boldly interrupted her, he could notice that the confusement was being mixed with other feelings. He knew that you should fight one off at the time.

-"He was a peasant." He began, looking over at the crowd in front of them as he began to walk. He then turned around and bowed to mark that he'd like her company.

-"Peasants, they support the citizen with food and materials. I clen their bodies and manage their graveyards..." He said slowly and got lost in his thoughts.

-"Pea-" She began but he continued.

-"His name is Hiracho Tuchima, he will carry it as he walks the plains as a spirit." He said and swiped his arm against the town square.  

-"He was off no special importance to the world, but he had familly either way. People who grieves a man who was foolish enough to challange another to death." He whispered but stopped and kneeled to pray for forgiveness in his respectless speaking.

-"Pardons miss." He said quickly as he realised his own ways.

-"I've been speaking far to freely in your company. One that is not wise for one of my kind..." He said and bowed as he stood in front of her again.

The river was just in front of them and the sun was on it's way down wich cled the sky in orange. The relatives moved down and lowered the lanters into the river that quickly caught these sacred objects and dragged them down the river.

-"I will return to my simple cabin once I've paid my respect to the fallen..." He began without facing her, mostly out of nervousity.

-"I'd appreciate your company over tea but I understand if it is inppropiate." He said slowly and turned around with a lantern in his hand.

-"Pay your respects." Left his lips gently as he laid the lantern in her arms. It might make her feel like a part of the world again. He knew the feeling, to be treated differently by the others.

OOC: He doesn't want anyting more than a chat with a person who appears to be treated the way he is. So, there are no real hidden intents behind inviting her.

(OOC: Aye, sorry. Kinda' forgot that as well. But I rather not do anything huge or special with other characters. But I could of course.)

[Ben]

(im waiting for an opportune moment to jump in...i havent forgotten about yew.)

[Zerlina]

((gemini, go ahead and post in, if we have an idea of your location, we can tie the rp in so it's easier to find you))

Yuki watched the man as he spoke. He was an undertaker, it seemed. His profession was one of great stigma and yet, he spoke of it as if it were a great honour and art. The men she had always pictured as caregivers for the dead had been old and hoarse, with thinning white hair, and yellowed teeth. As for this man, he seemed no older than herself, though disheveled and hardly appropriate for public appearance.

Though it was true he had no ill intent by inviting her to his home, she was taken aback, for in all men she saw Jiro, and –unsure of this stranger’s aim- thought him to be as much a bounder. Besides, it wasn’t in her habit to accept the invitations of random men- not to mention the fact that this man was an undertaker and had been met in the oddest of circumstances.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot accept your invitation. You see, I must be getting home…I fear I’ve fallen asleep somewhere I shouldn’t have and now my family is worried. Tell me, where is Narita station?”

The lantern floated into her arms, glowing with the warmth of a fire. For a moment, her eyes fell downward and flickered in the light. He was sure she was a mourner, wasn’t he?

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she began, drawing her attention back to the man’s face “You see, I’ve only accidentally come this way by chance, I have no connection to the man who has passed.”

She offered the lantern, though she was saddened when its warmth left her.

“I think I must have hit my head, I’ve been hallucinating- I thought I saw some bodies back in the woods, and, well…I would really like to get to sleep in a proper place and make sense of things.”

[Moosetroop11]

Corgan nodded. "...alright. I haven't really got any other leads yet, to tell the truth." He smiled and shook his head, gesturing towards the line. "One thing's for sure. This was no normal collision. There's a good chance that your daughter's alive."

By Fujiwara's expression Corgan could tell that his reassurance had had no effect. The mysterious man simply turned and walked, and Corgan followed.

Maybe he really did know more about this case.


OOC:  Does Fujiwara have any sort of magical power that Corgan would pick up on?

[Prpl_Mage]

Marduki took the reply with dignity and and merely bowed quickly to show that he respected her choice.

“I fear I’ve fallen asleep somewhere I shouldn’t have and now my family is worried. Tell me, where is Narita station?” She had asked, and it didn't make any sense to him.

-"Narita.. -station?" He began, as he tried to dig through his memory after such a location.

-"I'm sorry miss, but I haven't heard of anything like that. What is this Narita station?" He said confised and continued as he put the lantern down into the river. He was surprised that a woman would not honour the spirits.

-"I'm living a block away from the Narita-san temple, that's in machinaka(central narita) and I haven't heard of anything called the Narita station miss." He said and then listened to her speak again.

“I think I must have hit my head, I’ve been hallucinating- I thought I saw some bodies back in the woods, and, well…I would really like to get to sleep in a proper place and make sense of things.” A chill went down his spine, corpses: in the woods. This could only be the work of the nature's spirit, they angered it and payed their prize.

-"The woods you say? How far away was it?" He asked but added "miss" before she had the chance to reply.

-"I paniced and ran, I can't say for sure..." She said quickly. He couldn't blame her: not everyone was used to look upon dead people.

-"I understand... But I doubt you will be able to find a room tonight, it is celebration starting this evening. People come from around our empire to pray their respect at the temple miss." He said troubled.  

-"But you could use my cabin if you'd like miss, I won't come back home untill tomorrow and I'll be busy all morning with honoring the dead." He said but added.  "I'm sure you can find a better place of course, I don't want to force you miss." He sighed, he must've appeared like a creepy guy seducing her or something.

-"But I must find the dead ones I'm afraid. But I'll be back just as  the celebration starts.... I hope." He said and smiled before bowing again.

-"I must be on my way, may the spirits watch over you young miss." He said a last tiem before moving against the city gates once more to do what others could not.

OOC: Sorry if that got a bit confusing, still having soem trouble taking some control of others characters I'm afraid. But I'll learn eventually.

[Zerlina]

((Sorry this took so long. It’s been a rough few days.
Ooc @ moosetroop- Fujiwara himself has no magical powers, however, he is more in tune to magical things as he has an ancestry that is highly associated with magic.
Ooc @ Prpl Mage- Don’t worry about controlling characters. It takes some getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it once you know other peoples’ characters. If in doubt, refer to their bio and see if it fits. Worst that can happen is the player tells you that one move was out of character, in which case you just change it. Try not to leave the scene without making an offer, however, as that closes the plot off and makes it difficult for the person replying.))


Corgan made his way through Narita station, listening to the snippets of conversation which flowed through his ears.
“What do you mean the station is closed? I have to get to Tokyo!” cried one woman, a child clinging to her jacket.

*

The ride to Fujiawara’s house was silent, and Corgan passed the time by playing with the lid of the coin compartment.
When at last the car trailed to the outskirts of the city, the houses turned to the older style, often overlooked by natives and businessmen, but played up by tourist agencies.
Now, if the Fujiwara family home were a person, it would be old and decrepit, looking as if it had once been glorious, but now falling to pieces.
As Corgan waited for Fujiwara to unlock the door, he stared up uneasily at the shingles, each looking as if they might give way at any moment. In the front yard, crumpled brown plants slumped over each other, making their home seem more like a floral graveyard than a garden.
Mrs. Fujiwara opened the door before her husband could finish unlocking it. For a moment she simply stared at Corgan, unsure of what he was doing at her home.
“This is my guest.” Spoke Fujiwara “He will be joining us tonight.”

*

What sort of person was this who did not know where Narita station was? Shouldn’t it be common knowledge?
Yuki stared at him in disbelief, though her face showed little expression. She was jaded, hardly hearing the words that he spoke to her, for they made hardly any sense.
“Wait-” she called before he could walk away “You say there is no other place to go? Well…I don’t need a hotel…but- is there someone who can give me a ride?”
“A ride? No, I’m afraid all the farmers have gone home, miss. And there are few who are willing to drive on a night such as this.”
“Farmers?” she coughed, unsure of what to say “Is this part of some sort of re-enacment?” she finally called, frustrated “I don’t want to break your performance, but I’m really lost!”
“There is no re-enacment here, other than that of the great one passing on.”
“Then what you’re saying is…”
“Is what?”
“Is this some sort of trick? To try and fool me into coming home with you?”
Marduki stepped back, offended “I am a decent man, and I have no need to fool young women!”
“Then come clean- what is going on here?”
“All that I have told you!” he turned and began to walk away.
For all her reasoning, Yuki could do nought but follow him. She walked up, away from the river, and into the woods. When at last they arrived in central Narita, she lost all breath.
The buildings were old and different than they had been before. Smoke rose up from streetfires, and all about lingered the scent of food, horses, and men. Marduki continued walking, and Yuki, now intimidated, followed out of compulsion. Her eyes flickered over each new sight- there were two men sitting on a stoop, their clothes old and ragged; a woman and her baby arguing with a peddler; a young boy sneaking up on a rice seller.
“Watch out!” cried a woman whose kimono was tied at the front.
Yuki backed away slightly as the woman fixed herself and walked around her, but as soon as she began to move again, she nearly tripped over a young boy.
“Are you a ghost, ma’am?” he asked, but Yuki gave no reply.
The boy’s cheeks were hollowed and gray; he looked more like a ghost than she did.
“Why do you think I am a ghost?” she asked, unafraid of the answer “My kimono?”
“Yes,” said the boy “It is the same that Fujiwara no Yuki wore all the time. And that ring- it is hers as well.”
Yuki stared down at her hand, realizing that a carved gold ring lay upon her finger.
“H-how do you know?”
“She was my cousin.” He said “We lived together before our family’s estate was burned.”
“Burned? Are you a ghost, then?”
“No,” he said “I was not there when it happened. But my mother was. And hers. Everyone died in that fire except her and I…you look like her. You have her eyes- her expression. But she was executed for treason and buried in the woods up by the river.”
Yuki backed up “Sir!” she cried, to Marduki “Sir, what is going on here!?”

 

*

Corgan wandered through the house, letting his hands brush the ends of picture frames and nick-nacks, all gathering dust.
“Come, sit please.” Said Fujiwara, gesturing to a soft cushion.
The home was old and bare, seeming to have come out of the nineteen-forties. There were no chairs, the stove in the kitchen was old, and judging by the temperature, it was not heated properly.
Mrs. Fujiwara took a book to her husband, and he lay it out on the floor between him and Corgan.
Corgan nearly laughed. He had expected some sort of ancient text, but what he saw was a translated version of Stephen Hawking’s The Universe in a Nutshell.
Fujiwara took the piece seriously. He opened it up to a page that had been marked with a sticky-note. On it was a diagram of a blanket folded over itself.
“Sir, what do you think this is?” asked Fujiwara.
“It seems to be a blanket painted with stars, though I assume it is something else.”
“Indeed,” answered the old man “This is an illustration of time. It turns over itself, and so certain periods of time may lie below others…at least in some sense. It is my belief” he sighed “that our time has folded over another. Specifically, the mid-Edo era.”
 “And what makes you so sure of this?”
Fujiwara rose to his feet and removed a framed picture of Yuki from a wobbly table.
“This is a picture of my daughter- the one who was hit by the train today. It is the oldest picture we have of her.”
Corgan analyzed it. She was a teenager.
“She is adopted then?” he asked.
“In a way. Though it is more accurate to say she is my ancestor, and I have not so much adopted her as been given her.”
Fujiwara took a letter opener off of the table and sat down once more. His wrinkled hands folded the edge of the tatami over itself. With a smirk, he stuck the letter opener through it so that it pierced through the wooden braid in two places.

“There is a hole in time, Corgan-Sir. My Yuki is from this,” he indicated the bottom fold of the tatami “And we are here.” He indicated the edge.

“You must be insane!” Corgan cried, though he was interested nonetheless.

“Perhaps. But people also thought that Newton was insane.

It is my belief, sir, that there was somehow torn a hole in time- just like this. And My Yuki, as well as others have come through it, and now are going back.

I did not adopt my Yuki, she was asleep when we found her in the garden. An old man was with her, and he told us to take care of her until she had a chance to ‘return through time.’ I wasn’t sure what he meant until I found this book and then it all made sense.”

“That’s a stretch of a conclusion.”

“Not really.” Laughed Fujiwara “If the smartest man on earth developed this theory, how much of a stretch could it be?”

[ZeroKirbyX]

As Dimitri wandered down the narrow, dusty street, he carefully inspected the few remaining "shops," his eyes excitedly peering over every piece of merchandise they had to offer. Hunched over, arms crossed loosely behind his back, the tail of his robes slid along the ground as he furiously shuffled along. Very little seemed to garner his attention for long than a few seconds. Scattered across the mats and racks were mostly garbage as he saw it. Lucky cats, "magical" seeds, even a sword or two from would be smiths. Passing on from one set-up to the next, he quickly jerked back, thrusting his arms out and almost instantly, he was careful inspecting it, rotating it within his hands as if he were a child with a ball. Adjusting his spectacles with his right hand, holding the item in his left, he focused his eyes to gain the best perspective in the diminishing sunlight.

The shopkeeper, very excited now at the obvious enthusiasm of his customer over his wares, begins to speak, gesturing excessively with his hands.

"Do you like that? Its on sale for today. 30 yen! But hey, I like your face, so I'll give it to you for 25! Its not too often I get foreigners to my store!"

Dimitri's eyes quickly dulled from childish enthusiasm to tired weariness. "Do you know what this is?"

"Yes, it's a very rare and valuable-" Dimitri quickly cut him off "Piece of crap." He set it down back onto the mans dirty mat, "But I'm sure you'll have better luck selling it to a fool."

With that, he continued meandering his way down the street, nothing more to gaze upon as all the keepers all pulled themselves in for an evening. If he wanted to do anymore shopping this night, it would need to be more of
a personal persuasion.

Straightening his back, he gazed over the heads of the puttering citizens, eager to find something else to do. Or better yet, something to study. He had been in this country for a year, and had just recently made his way to this fine city. And now he was broke. Finding rarities in this new land was slightly more difficult than he expected. It was uncommon to find a truly rare artifact, and even more uncommon for it to be valuable enough to earn him a living. Or even someone willing to purchase them. Ancient treasures seemed to be in less demand here than in his mother Russia. He was hungry, tired, and lonely. So he made his way to the others he considered to be closest to him in times of solitude; the long since passed. He always felt as if there were hearts gazing at him when no eyes were around to see. A cemetery seemed to nearby, or so he had heard. Perhaps, he thought to himself, I can relax there.