MOVED TO WILDODE

                         “I don’t wanna live” -- I should have just said that. Will I be able to find peace?

This  clinic…  It  was  one  of  the  recently  opened  establishments  fixed  in  Morioh,  Japan,  a  suburbian  town  known  for  it's  rather  drab  demeanor  and  water-based  recreational  activities  that  opened  during  the  summer.  Yukako  has  heard  reviews  from  only  few,  but  all  of  them  assert  the  fact  that  the  experience  was…  UNCOMFORTABLE,  to  say  the  least.  It  was  an  odd  evaluation  for  the  likes  of  a  healthcare  facility,  however  she  neverminded  the  uncertified  critiques  and  continued  on.

The  lack  of  others  in  the  front  was  quite  NERVE  WRACKING.  Did  no  one  else  get  their  annual  health  check  during  the  first  month  of  the  year?  Such  an  inquiry  was  mentally  spoken  and  deemed  rhetorical.  With  one  leg  crossed  over  the  other  and  her  left  hand  finding  heat  in  the  narrow  space  between  her  right  arm,  Yamagishi’s  eyes  were  glued  to  her  phone,  her  only  means  of  killing  time  besides  the  dreary  magazines  that  remained  untouched  in  the  table  beside  her.

It  was  the  receptionist  approaching  her  with  the  familiar  clipboard  and  pen  that  successfully  diverted  her  attention  away  from  that  little  screen,  bringing  her  to  store  her  phone  in  her  purse  and  grab  the  extended  items.  Readying  herself  to  write  her  information  and  check  the  appropriate  boxes  for  30  grating  minutes,  Yamagishi  turned  the  object  around  and  made  a  wide-eyed  expression  at  what  she  was  looking  at.

“  …  ”  Her  lack  of  speech,  paired  with  her  roused  look  quickly  turned  sour,  made  way  for  the  clipboard  to  be  turned  back  towards  the  receptionist.  “  What  is  this?  ”  She  was  not  amused.  “  It’s  just  a  BLANK  PIECE  OF  PAPER.  ”

Was it? Was it but a blank piece of paper? Or was it something else? No, it really was just a blank piece of paper really. There was nothing special about it at all. Mal’s expression doesn’t shift in the slightest, despite such confrontational tone from the girl in front of them.

“That’s right. When jotting down the information required, we prefer a much more...direct and straightforward route with the way we acquire it. No need to check so many boxes you can’t tell right from left anymore, or to read tons of legal documentation. Just the bare essentials!”

For a moment, that paper might have looked like a pamphlet. Full of tons of droll legal warnings, advisement, questions regarding healthcare providers, and other such things. A grimace tugs at their features as they place a finger down atop the stack of sheets, “You don’t want that, right? It’s so totally boring...so boring it makes me want to sleep for the next eighty years.” It was still just a piece of paper, not a packet - or a pamphlet. You scarcely know why it would have even appeared to be as such, and it seems the receptionist’s arm never left their side, either.

      This person—are they even a person?—seems to function in their own time frame or something. This whole place feels off actually. Like she walked into, very regretfully, a different dimension. But she’s here now, in front of what’s probably supposed to be a receptionist, and it’s not like she can just start walking backwards and out of this place. No matter how sure she is that the one sitting behind the desk is a fae. Has to be. No other reasonable explanation for such outlandish behavior.

       Everything, absolutely everything about this…uh…place…is off. From the colorful character behind the desk to the frozen computer screen. But what’s probably the strangest in this already pretty weird scenario is Kimiko’s unchanging expression. Gotta stay calm and all that jazz. “I’m really not sure. About what you were talking about anyway.”

“Speaking isn’t so much what I do as much as I try...communicating the things I know issssss...difficult.” They know too much, too many things far beyond the scope of what can be put to the human tongue. “Are you sick? Do you need a shot? You got some weird toxicity going on in your blood or something? Whatever’s wrong with you I can totally probably fix it. OUR DOCTORS can fix it, rather. I’m just the desk jockey.” Nobody else works here, it’s deathly quiet.

“ Wait… what? ” Oookay… that part where all of their stuff just went to the UNKNOWN VOID was… weird. Sure, he’s seen weird shit before, but he never saw like… whatever that was. “ Really...? Are you… sure? Can’t you check again? Maybe you missed it or something? ” Why the sudden bad feeling™ about this…

“What did I just say? It’s a thousand years too early for you to question my rigorous scheduling, plankton.” -- Oh wait, the desk is back, so is the computer. The floor’s still flickering, but that can be reconciled later. They walk around the desk’s perimeter, check the computer.

“But I don’t see your name on the list, so I guess not...” Everything fades now, they’re in the middle of an empty lot. The evening sky cools as it dies into nighttime, and Mal grumbles slightly, shoves their hands in their pockets.

“You’re contaminating the space--” Brows furrow as they swipe everything off of their desk, computer, clipboard and all. It all crashes to the floor, which they can’t see anymore by the way. Just an empty expanse of space below their feet.