VengeanceCricket !LFGybvde7Q 2012/03/24 (Sat) 21:09 No. 154721 ▼ File 133262337869.jpg - (270.66KB, 1108x850 , 36b598f3a53f3444aba2ea6a69ed6d1c.jpg)
Raising your hand so as to block the sun from your eyes you wait for her to tell you the news of your departure but, per usual with most people you talk to, you are forced to initiate the conversation.
“Well?”
“No.” The swiftness of her response catches you off guard.
“What?”
“Not what, but not well either.” Is she messing with you?
“What? You’re not making any sense; just tell me when I’m getting out of here.”
Lifting the front of her dress so as to not sully it too much on the unkempt stairs, she steps down a stair so as to sit next to you at the top. With hands clenched firmly in one another, she casts a stare down the stairway before answering.
“I’m sorry,” She begins in a noticeably somber tone. “It’s not going to happen.”
“Come again?”
“She said that no one can leave until some… extraneous circumstances have been taken care of.”
“Extraneous circumstances?” Without turning to look at you she nods her head.
“Really?” Another nod. ‘Well what the hell does that even mean?’ as if she read your thoughts (or perhaps you actually relayed the last thought aloud involuntarily, you’re not sure which) she responds,
“You can’t leave, not for another three weeks at least.”
It takes all but two seconds for her word to register. Inhaling loudly through your nose you begin to caress your cheeks and mouth, lightly at first, but soon begin aggressively running your hand up and down your jaw line. Three weeks. By that time you will have been officially listed as a deserter, and out of a job. Though even you question the fervidity with which they’ll hunt you down, you really cannot go and live your life in some 9-to-5 job. You had a comfortable set up going for you, especially now that you were stationed in Okinawa. Little guard duty here, dick around in the barracks every now and then and the occasional leave with generous pay made it all worth while. You honestly don’t care if you’re tried and forced in court, but the chance of losing this sweet deal, after two tours nonetheless, is not one you’re going to take.
“Like hell I can’t.” You rise up from the steps and pivot your body towards the shrine in a single fluid motion. With all thoughts of keeping a cool head gone, you begin to make your way back to the shrine to tear down walls if need be when firm tug arrests your attention before you can take another step.
“Wha-?” Keine grasped the edge of your shirt with a grip that nearly made you fall back down. She looked at you with such a morose expression that reminded you of the look mothers get when they lose a child, something, though you would never tell this to anyone, you’ve seen much too often both before, during and after duty. The look was a pitiful thing really, but for no reason other than the fact that this expression was for you made it appreciable in any way. Her countenance cut short the string of blasphemes you were preparing to unleash as you made your way to ravage the shrine and its owner.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t? Don’t? You don’t understand Keine, this is my livelihood at stake here and ill be damned if I lose it on account of what some pissant girl says.”
“Please…She has no more control over this than you or I do, she’s just doing her job.”
“And what job is that exactly?” you retort. “Last I checked wasn’t the shrine’s duty or whatever to help people when they need it? Well I could really use some help right about now!” That last sentence comes across more acrid than you meant and you immediately regret it when she winces at your raised voice. ‘Great, probably the only person who legitimately helped you out so far, sans creepy nocturnal flower watcher, and you just yelled at her through no fault of her own.’ Really, its situations like these where that self-imposed cool-headedness that was so fervently drilled into you comes in handy.
With those expressive eyes still boring holes into your will, you resign to the teacher and sit back down. Upon doing so she releases her grip and instead clutches her own hemmed dress in a manner that would make you think she was liable to tear it at any moment.
Neither of you say anything and instead continue to look down the flight of stairs at some invisible marvel that sequestered both of your attention, thus giving you an excuse to not look at one another.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s understandable that you’re worked up, especially after her callous behavior, but, I think that anyone in a situation like this would be.”
“Heh, I doubt that.”
“Hmm, why’s that?” In the peripherals of your vision you see that she has relinquished the grip on her dress and is staring sidelong at you.
“Well, I was just about ready to go in there and shove that stick of hers in a, let’s say, rather unsanctified and undisclosed location.” Your remark, crude or not, elicits a light infectious giggle that has you smiling in unison.
“I hate to dampen the mood again,” you interject when she settled back down, “but I really need to figure out what I’m going to do. Is there really no way I can get back without her help?”
“Unfortunately yes. The way back cannot be traversed without the help of the Hakurei. It’s been that way for as long as the village has been around; farther back than that even. The entirety of the village itself is, with a few exceptions, self-sufficient and very few people need to, or want to for that matter, leave. The only types of people that ever come up are outsiders, like you, looking for a way back. She normally just sends them on their way and gets it over with, it just turns out that you have some impeccably bad timing. Well, like I said, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Now as for you,” I can let you stay in the guest room for a few more nights until we can figure out some sort of suitable sleeping arrangement for you.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” You mean it sincerely.
“Not at all.”
“No, I really mean it. Thanks. But,” There’s just one lingering question that’s nagging at you, “why?”
“Hmm.” There’s that pensive stare again. “Well I guess it just because of my…Ah!”
“Your what now?”
“The school, I forgot that I told Akyuu I’d be back before the late morning lesson began. Sorry but I need to head back to the village.”
‘Ahh, so put off her job just to see you home.’ Now you really regret that outburst earlier and feel the heat of embarrassment spread in your cheeks. Thankfully, she’s too caught up in her own self-realization for her to notice.
“Are you coming?” Ah, she’s already up and offering her hand to you. The fingers were slender and white, well-kempt; nails not tainted in the slightest with any sort of dirt, grime, or lacquered polish that women were so eager to drench their fingers in. The stuff always made you nauseas, the scent anyways, and the nails, though sometimes in good taste, more often than naught reminded you of the richer-than-thou spoiled girls that rode Bentleys paid for by their esteemed corporate parents. It’s really the sort of thing that made you lose hope for society, if you had any to begin with.
Taking her hand in yours you allow yourself to be pulled up as the flush from your cheeks goes away.
“Right.” With that, the two of you begin to make your way down those godforsaken steps.
The trip back to the village was short, by most standards anyways. It was a walk which could have been cut down to about a ten minute drive if possible (it’s not possible). The two of you talked and questioned each other, delving into the daily affairs of one another’s life. She asked of your life and job and why it meant so much to you to get back. You in turn asked about her own, the general life in the village and how “backwards” they really are (you’re a soldier, not a poet). Each back and forth was responded to with anecdotes that gained chuckles or a sincere laugh from the other, tidbits of esoteric knowledge, and an increasing interest that preoccupied the two of you the entire way. Only a few times did silence prevail and when it did, it was not that awkward silence that prevails at the worst of moments in the company of another, it was welcome and neither of you minded it in the slightest.
Upon reaching the village she informed you that she needed to return to her house to pick up her supplies and needed to give you something as well. Once inside, she went up the stairs to her room and returned shortly while you attempted to read some of the more elegant scriptures on the wall.
“Here.” She moved some documents off to the side as she placed an oaken box on the knee-high table. The corners and edges of the box were gilded in diaphanous lines of gold and silver that weaved and looped perfectly across the box. Producing a small key, no longer than your pinky and about as wide as your thumb, she inserted it in to an equally decorous keyhole and with a short series of metallic clicks the box sprang slightly open. Removing the key and placing it off to the side she opened the box the rest of the way and revealed it contents.
The inside was covered in a fine red felt atop which were stacked denominations of gold, bronze, silver and copper that were neatly arranged on the bottom insert of the box while similar coins with square holes dangled from three parallel strings on the flat inside of the top of the box. These too were separated according to the material used to make them. Most of these coins resembled the kind you would see on the forehead of those cats in Chinatown with paws that incessantly clawed at the air in front of them. Though you were not exactly sure of their values, you could assume that the ones smelted out of gold were the highest in denomination, as they boasted the fewest pile in the box.
You let out a low whistle as you peruse the contents. “These your life savings?”
“Hardly, these are for you; well, however many you wish to take anyways.”
“Really?” You pick up on of the bronze pieces and turn it over in palm to examine the lines etched into the coin.
“Yes, the village has a trust fund of sorts set up for outsiders. A small percentage of the village taxes go into the fund each month and as it turns out, no one has been able to claim money from the box in over 6 months.”
“ Why’s that?” You return the coin back to its pile.
“Well there have been no outsiders in the past three months, and the few that did before that left right away. So I guess you could say that your bad timing is actually fortunate chance for you.”
“Wow that is lucky, I guess.” So you could take all this coinage and go around and be your regular spendthrift self in the village. “Wait, so these coins are the only form of currency here?”
“Well, trading goods and service is not at all uncommon here but yes, these are the only form of currency used.”
‘Whoops.’ Guess your kind donation to the street vender wasn’t all that kind. Damn, and you had well over 70,000 yen, soggy or not, left in your wallet from the other night.
“There’s just one thing.” A catch no doubt. “This also doubles over as an emergency fund of sorts for the village, say for construction after a natural disaster or for the school’s needs, so we require you to pay back what you take before you leave.”
‘So much for my plans of tossing cash around in the village’ “Ok, so I have three weeks to pay back everything I take from the box right?”
“Essentially, so would advise against taking too much, of course you can just come to me for your day to day needs.”
[] Take the minimal amount you would need during your stay. (Approximately 2 Ryo)
[] Take a moderate amount of money from the box. (Max of 4 Ryo)
[] Take the entire contents with box. (Upwards of 10 Ryo)
[] Leave the currency with Kiene and let her decide as to how your money will be spent.
[Write-in] What to do after Keine leaves/ questions and comments before she leaves.
Though the second choice is specifically a write-in, assume all choices have the write-in option present unless stated otherwise.
