[ 5 ] Greet Her
[ 2 ] Keep Staring
[ 0 ] Wild Card
[ 1 ] Dice

Talk like a normal human being.

You clear your voice, prepared to use a set of muscles you thought would atrophy before you even got to use it.

“Uh, Hi.”

Your voice cracks on the ‘hi,’ part. And on such an off-note from your usual baritone; it sounds so awkward coming from a guy with a sturdy and large build, like the squeak of a nervous trumpet player.

You are nervous though. Very nervous.

You barely have time to cough to save yourself from embarrassment.

She giggles behind her sleeve, a closed hand holding a tablet holding the number 14.

Hopefully, not all hope is lost.

"I hope you lovebirds are settling in tonight."

A brown haired older woman with a lacquered pipe smiled at the both of us with a mischievous smile. Dressed in a restrained pine forest green haori, the gold in her sleeves seemed to indicate she was someone important. Maybe this job made good money somehow.

You learn to notice the not so obvious in this land; almost anything good is deep within it.

"Alright, so here's how this works, Casanova: She's gonna be your date tonight and you are gonna take a stroll around the Village Square. You can work out who treats who but fun is the name of the game here."

She took a puff from her pipe. A colored purple smoke emerged from her lips.

"Either one of you are free to call off the date for any reason before time. Both of you will be refunded, and that will end your session. So its up to you guys to make an impression."

She made a heart with her fingers. At least you assume its a heart— the dipped thumbs flexing against the curled fingers seem to suggest so. The pose she struck was another indicator.

The blond girl turned away, politely hiding what you suspected was a smirk. You're pretty sure it was one.

...

AT THE VILLAGE SQUARE

It's been a bit over five minutes; it's a pretty brisk walk to the square if you know where the secret turns and such are.

And neither of you are talking much.

Not that you mind, though it felt more like her attention was elsewhere.

Like she's looking for someone.

Could she... could she be cheating on another man with you?

You have heard of such cases only whispered in the confines of the most intimate of manly spaces, like during the intermissions of rakugo bars, the alleyway behind takoyaki stands.

Man, it's been a while since you went out.

But her uncertainty is bugging you. Maybe it's time to reach out.

Thought just to be safe—

"AHEM"

She immediately snapped out of her own thoughts and looked at you in concern with those golden orbs that seemed to shimmer even brighter in the red lantern light.

"So, I get we're not supposed to share names with each other," you began. It was a minor courtesy the woman shared with you before stuffing you into that room to change into a decent pair of clothes after a bath.

"But I think we should find something to call each other while we're out here."

She thought about it.

"You know what? That's not a bad idea."

She smiled at you before looking back into the crowd.

"You'll have to excuse me for not making a lot of conversation; it's just that I'm actually a bit worried about bumping into someone I know from... work."

...work.

Well, that's one way to put it.

"Oh," you said absentmindedly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, don't be!" She waved her hand, indicating I may be getting the wrong idea. "It's not like she's a stalker. More like... a weasel who has way too much access to my stuff."

"Huh," you thought. "Is she like a roomate?"

"Not," she hesitated, "really."

"Is she your sister?"

"Oh no! No!" She laughed at the thought so loud.

You honestly thought that was a pretty good guess.

"I'm guessing—"

"Yeah," she brushed her hair to one side. "It is complicated."

"Huh."

You both walked a bit through the town, she keeps eyeing a dessert stand nearby. Maybe you can save that in your mind for later.

"Well, if anything, maybe we can find you a proper disguise to hide from your friend."

She looked surprised at the suggestion. Dunno how normal of a suggestion that was, but you offer your reasoning nonetheless.

"Smith shops actually have to have an eye for design," you began. "Not every piece of jewelry can go with any dress; there's almost like a system to it all."

She looked at you with what you hope are stars in her eyes and not a lantern burning in the distance.

"Sadly," you continued as you scratched your chin. "I'm actually pretty bad with fashion myself. The chief smithy is the one who usually does those kinds of delicate stuff."

She grinned, huffing her chest up.

"Lucky for you, I happen to be very good at making clothes."

You were surprised; you didn't expect such a small girl to be able to handle a whole loom by herself.

"But I guess today I can teach you a bit about fashion. If you promise to lend me your eyes and tell me what looks good on me."

"So it's a date?"

She grinned.

"It's a promise."

You smiled, glad she wasn't gonna turn back, but also wondering what you are going to call each other in the meantime.

"Er, oh right. I guess we should make some names for each other if we're gonna do some undercover fashion."

"Oh right! I almost forgot!"

You were almost shocked at her shock. It almost felt like the world had collapsed under her.

"Mmmm! I'm not good at these things! Would you choose one for me?"

How could you say no to her?

[ ] Choose a name for Alice
[ ] Choose a name for yourselves, big man.
[ ] Twist: Use your real name (no, not your actual name, but the character's name.)
[ ] Author's pick: Celia for Alice and Toru for the MC.

The lights dim,
you hear your pulse rise in the background as the sounds of a distant shore beat in the back of your head.

You can't help but feel like this is not your world, and yet, you don't seem to have a choice in the matter.[/i]

[Volition]: Who the hell are you?

[Electrochemistry]: Whoever you are, I bet you've got something to help us feel the buzz, eh?

[Shivers]: Fascinating: an entity not of this world manifesting from the Pale solely from the shock that he is not alone.

The voice felt comforting in your mind, gentle and cool like the seabreeze around you.

[Shivers]: I know what that feels like. It's quite nice, isn't it.

You can feel a pull on your lower stomach. Something is pulling you away from there.

[Shivers] Hm... He reminds me so much...

Of Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau.

You return back to the lands of Gensokyo as you open your eyes. The world was still here, that girl was still here.

She was eyeing you with a bit of concern in her eyes...

OH RIGHT: HER NAME!

A flurry of names raced in front of your eyes:

HARUNAJUNKOALICEREIMUCIRNONAOYARUMIAAIKAAHIKOCHIDORIGINKO

you felt lost in a sea of names. It got so bad it almost gave you vertigo, causing you to sway slightly as the names passed your mind like an out of control stock ticker.

You could almost feel yourself flying, flying away from the date, even away from your body. Only the faint rhythm of vibrant drums kept you steady.

...Drums?

Yes, as it turns out, there was a 2nd floor down the street where people were dancing merrily to the beats: a rapid saucy tempo that felt infectious even from a distance. The muffled roar of trumpets and a voice you can barely tell, yet you already knew what she was saying:

Quimbara Qumbara Quma QuimBamBam!
Quimbara Qumbara Quma QuimBamBam!

It was the hottest song here in the human Village. No one knows what it meant, nor why the rhythms were so infectious. But it found a home amongst the same people who embraced the less traditional instruments like the trumpet and the cello; It was a novelty that though ignored by the mainstream, it felt welcoming to hear when it comes up.

You could only have known about this while helping the master smithy build a whole trumpet as a special order request-- Someone had to keep the customer occupied while the team was making it, and his anxiousness got so bad he was visiting the forge every day to see the progress: we told him it would take months.

He showed you this song in his basement. An oddity he was planning to sell to that weird antiques shop along the Village Outskirts. Kourindou, you think it was called.

And the woman who sang that...

"Celia," you finally spoke.

It felt warm in your mouth. And she seemed to like it as well.

"Celia," she repeated with her mouth. "I like it. It feels fresh."

You were glad your suggestion was met with such optimism.

"What about you?"

Her innocent question rushed you back into panic mode.

>CRITICAL ERROR: Creativity.exe returns with System Error 1450: Insufficient Resources!

>INITIATE FAILSAFE

>LOADING RANDOMBULLSHIT.exe

You start thinking.

I... am nothing.
I... just want to be nothing.
I... am anonymous.

Anon.
Perfect.

(you thought back at that awesome name from the fog. You wonder if you're getting FOMO now that the name itself is slipping back into the void.)

you open your mouth to say your new name:

"無名 (Mumei)"

You both stare at each other. She is hoping you would at least add something to it. Praying you would.

You are starting to hope you had chosen Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau.

She sighed, softly of course. It felt as heavy as a slap.

Still, she chose to face you with a smile.

"Look, I do appreciate the name you gave me. It felt like it had history, passion, a whole life behind it that I can explore."

She stepped back a bit; probably because she knew she was about to explode.

"But that's what made that name fun! It came from you! And what are we gonna do if we go to a shop? 'Oh hey, I literally have no name! surely I'm not gonna do something embarrassing like... steal or...!' "

You found yourself staring at the ground uncomfortably, shuffling your feet.

"It's... not my fault I can't think of anything,"

You want to turn away. Maybe it was gonna be you that hung up the coat early tonight.

You were just about to apologize for wasting your time and bolt into the darkness before you realized:
she was still gently holding your wrist.

And staying quiet for a moment.

"I... don't mean to push you further than you're able to."

She looks at the ground.

"I... actually I am surprised we have been together for as long as we have."

You looked at her curiously.

"Who would reject you? You look great!"

She smiled and crossed her arms behind her back.

"Well, maybe that can be something we can talk about another time.

She began walking forward, towards the informal markets that hid from the daylight and the watchful eyes of the village bureaucracy.

You decided to follow her.

"Does this mean I can keep the name?"

She doesn't look at you. But somehow you could tell she was hiding a smile.

"Perhaps."

Rules are essential for a functioning town. If there was no garbage disposal, how do you keep a town clean? If there is no homeowner's bureau that checks up on you in case you brought a girl into your apartment, how else would you maintain your chastity and be in danger of achieving sage status at the ripe young age of thirty?

in short, a bit of organizing goes a long way.

But here, past the Hour of the Rooster, when even the stars themselves are asleep.

That's when real magic happens.

all around what used to be empty streets were stalls upon stalls upon stalls that sold all kinds of knickknacks and goods. Most new arrivals almost never know where or when these stalls will pop up next, so they came to be known as "Treasure Shops," or "Good Fortune shops."

As in: you had the good fortune upon stumbling into their treasure hauls.

Tonight, somehow, you were wandering in the midst of these stalls with a girl who was simply rushing through the stalls, a frenzy of white and blue trying on different bracelets and things before hearing the price.

And all you could do was hope that your jean pants and blazer didn't feel so out of place next to a girl in a Victorian style dress an sturdy leather boots.

"Hey, Mumei?"

You turned. She was pushing something into your palm. It felt delightfully cool to the touch as she grinned like a devil.

"Feel this really well."

You did as you were told. It was like bone, but it was also so smooth. The shape was ovoid so you could tell immediately it was a shell.

But nothing could have prepared you for the inside.

It was gorgeous. The whole bottom half of the oyster had been smoothed and adorned with a pearl at the mouth's center, along with a soft bed of a pinkish resin that mimicked the lost flesh of the oyster. It glowed with an almost hypnotizing radiance.

"Hey! That's not for sale! Put it back!"

an old woman emerged from the depths of her stall and eyed at you as you returned the treasure to its display box.

"It seems your girlfriend has an eye for the finer things," she spoke.

You nodded in agreement, though you don't really know anything about the piece of jewelry or its value.

"You should be careful with all that glitters like gold; pieces like this are priceless because they are almost impossible to get like this."

"Mother of Pearl is an especially finnicky piece of jewelry."

You raised your head as she caressed the jewelry box lovingly.

"My husband, he used to be a jeweler. Knew the trade better than any of his kinsman. One day he had a boy bring him an oyster from the sea with the pearl still in his mouth."

She smiled, brushing her hair on one side, as if she was about to adorn a broach.

"It became his anniversary gift for me."

The thought fascinated you. But it also raised a lot of red flags.

"When you give someone a gift that's forever, it should be something they can never part with. That they wear and love as much as the first day they fell in love with the thing."

"There... there isn't a sea anywhere around Gensokyo, is there?"

She looked at you curiously, as if she was lost in a dream.

Perhaps this was a good time to leave.

You found Celia waiting by another shop. The old lady didn't say another word.

"Pass your hands across this," Celia told you.

Your calloused hands passed across the softest blue dress shirt you have felt yet. It was buttery smooth and almost as gentle as a warm kiss.

"This is linen," Celia continues. "It's been worn for quite a while to be this soft. and it's a good quality too."

She stared at it longingly, as if she herself had stitched this shirt herself.

"Making it is an absolute hell though: you have to grow a bit more than an entire tsubo (坪) for just enough material to make one shirt."

She eyed it enviously.

"Especially of that quality. And the combing..."

Your hand drifted to another shirt as she angsted over work you aren't completely sure she has never done, a loose white shirt with a collar. But it was huge. Baggy.

And felt amazing under your fingers. You can't even feel the individual threads, it all felt like a sea of softness you can wear on your body forever.

"That's cotton," Alice said, looking a bit frayed. "That's even worse to get right."

Luckily, the vendor had a changing room in the back of his impossibly large tent.

...

"I found a skirt I think would look nice, as well as this cute dress."

She showed you a white one-piece dress, thin enough to be sleep wear. She also had a cotton shirt and some other goodies to choose from.

But at the moment, she was debating what to wear above her upper part.

"I want you to choose between these," she told you. "I'll see what I can do to make these look nice."

[ ] White baggy cotton dress shirt

[ ] Blue Linen long-sleeved shirt

[ ] Wild Card: You reach into a pile of discarded clothes that calls to you and pull something from the void.