#hereditariae

Dropped!

Taking notes of the woman beside him, he couldn’t help but catch interest in her. Something about her felt different, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. Either way, he wasn’t going to let her just slide away just yet. 

The unfamiliar sense of plastic homeliness felt wrapped tight around Cotes Ward in particular. Obviously. No place in the quartered city seemed to mimic Japan quite like it, though these things are just designed to elicit a type of welcome to them and crush the fear of the unknown, Ryoji could tell that much. Each time he steps between the houses and catches an eyeful of that eternal cherry blossom park lining the corners of this bottled city, he feels it too. The September air really never was that warm or welcoming, freezing against the soft petals as they fell through it onto the ground. Again and again, all year round. The sleek library peaking its head over the tops of these pink trees did little to ease this feeling either, almost looming over him in the park like a shadow approaching in the dark.

But what can be done about that? The morning sun was so kind to him, and the trees seemed to stretch their arms out further while he stood beneath them, reaching his own hand out to stroke the knot of the branches before they splayed out into the cold, open air. Funny, someone seems to have tied a green stray tanzaku under the flowers too.

Enough of this, though, he could see a figure approaching from not too far away; somewhere close to where the cobbled pathway lined the grassy park, and little wooden benches dotted along the joint, just outside the metro branch. A familiar face, not really ‘approaching’ him per say, but definitely playing the role of being the only other person out here. Someone easy enough for him to recognise from a million miles away too, though the distance wasn’t being so kind to him as he might have hoped, and she always had a way of drawing attention towards her without really trying.

♔ Her index finger pushed gently that book back to the place it belonged to until the shelves’ inner wall stopped any kind of further movement. Less than half a dozen rested on her cart, she had been arranging books during most of the morning. Lately, this has been the most exciting thing her current job had to offer. 

Yet her eyes didn’t show any kind of boredom, far from it, they seemed lost in the sea of titles, wondering which ones would be of use. The Metro Library seemed limitless and she picked this position not only for the money but for the knowledge as well.

The sound of heels clicking on the floor as she stepped off the mobile ladder  disturbed the almost absolute silence reigning in that section of the building. Makoto wanted to get that task done as fast as possible so she could have her lunch. 

“I mean, I haven’t eaten them a lot, but they’re so good! There’s no way you can’t live without having eaten one at least once! It’s like...an essential part of existence!”

Perhaps the other girl doesn’t really get what she’s saying, but her point still stands. The food in front of them vary in appearance, but they all have the same basic shape: on a stick, battered, and deep fried. Althoooough....now that Futaba looks at her, she does look a little fancy for certain restaurants...Still, she won’t let this stand. 

Not to mention it’s been a while since she’s had a talk with a girl her age that she didn’t know. The conversation wasn’t really supposed to be about this at first, but them’s the breaks.

“Here, you try it! There’s no way you can go your life without eating Kushikatsu! I’d feel like I’m abandoning a noob in a high level zone if I didn’t take action....”

Even with the countless amounts of hustle, bustle and general distraction that goes on in the city in general, to say nothing of the various wards’ specific attractions, Alice still finds herself longing for a moment of solitude--perhaps curled up in the safety and comfort of her own bed, and definitely with a good story to read. Luckily enough, a bit of research had lead to her discovering that the city had its own public library system--one that was apparently free of slave-driving factory owners trying to dismantle it, arguing that if the working class had hours to fritter away with something so frivolous as reading, then surely it had time enough to put in extra hours (and, purely coincidentally, make them more money). Curiously enough, for all that she still didn’t trust this city and the people who ran it, it at the very least had something over London in that she could breathe the air in all its districts and that it seemed to be free of those heartless layabouts who called themselves the Captains of Industry.

Thankfully, the nearest library isn’t too far of a walk away from where she lives, so it’s not too odious a task to force herself out of bed and make her way over for something to peruse. By this point, in fact, she’s gotten herself a small stack of books, all from the section of the library where they housed fiction. The trilogy of books from Mr. Tolkien seemed riveting enough, but unfortunately long enough for one or two of the books to function as a doorstop on their lonesome, and the three of them certainly as a tripping hazard, so she’s picked up just the first one for now; Pride and Prejudice, while perhaps not always her cup of tea, is always good for a read for the social commentary at the least; and, while The Count of Monte Cristo may not have been favorable to her as a child, it’s grown on her considerably as she’s grown older. She still may want one or two more, though, so there she walks--stalking the aisles of the fiction section not unlike a book dragon admiring her hoard, when a certain title catches her eye. She has to pull it out and examine its spine to see if it’s the one she’s thinking of.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland: a Novel by Lewis--

Her expression immediately sours as she roughly and unceremoniously shoves the spine back into place, deciding at once that she may have enough books after all and it may be best to leave before she gets the powerful urge to throw that book across the bloody room. She turns and, in her haste to get moving, ends up quickly bumping into someone else the moment she turns around. She should give some apology--it’s not her fault that leech’s work is featured here, after all, and she’ll need a moment to keep hold of her own books lest they fall to the floor from the impact anyhow.

There are already three neatly tucked under his arm, and there’s only one remaining that he has to look for....He does find it, but there appears to be someone already there, browsing the shelves below it. A moment passes, before Sannan lifts a gloved hand to his mouth to softly cough to grab her attention.

“Pardon me, Miss.

I hate to interrupt, but if I may, I’m afraid what I need is in your way.” He’d rather not reach over and startle her. His manners are still quite intact.

Finding food wasn’t particularly hard for myself. If anything, I could say it was almost a talent. Not everyone agreed with me but I can’t help it -- the smell taunts me and often will guide me into an incomparable paradise. I must have miscalculated because ... I forgot that in our society, you have to pay for food! Forgive me, mother! I underestimated the perks of nobility! Ah, is this how I die?! I thought I was prepared for the worse case scenario...!

So now I am here, staring at this yakitori stand... even though I missed it so much, I still can’t have a bite.

My stomach keeps growling too loudly and people have started to notice. I wouldn’t mind but the looks they’re giving me aren’t showing much compassion. Maybe it’s the drool or the fact I’m tearing up a little...