𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 55: {{▐⯊▐▅▚▄▌█▄▌▐▅▚ ▄▌█▐▅▚ ◖ ▐ ◀▐▅▚▄▌ ▐⯊ ▐𝟯█ ▐𝟯█ }}
The dining hall's atmosphere was thick with anticipation, was shattered by the soft shuffle of feet.
Nowa arrived, blinking groggily. He was still in his pajamas, a stark contrast to the mansion's luxurious formality. He let out a massive yawn as he scanned the room, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Good morning, everybody," he mumbled.
His gaze drifted over the trio, finally landing on the newspaper in Remilia's hands. He squinted, his brain slowly processing the connection between their focused attention and the newspaper he cannot read due to the Japanese letters barrier.
"Huh," he scratched the side of his stomach. "What's going on?"
Sakuya turned to his direction. "Beckitzer. You're not wearing a proper dress in the company of Lady Remilia." A faint sigh escaped her. "I will retrieve a robe for you." She turned and walked from the room.
Patchouli offered only a slight, annoyed glance over the top of the paper before returning to her text.
Remilia, however, placed the tea down, then held up the Bunbunmaru Shinbun with a theatrical smile. "Why, Mr. Beckitzer, you're the talk of the town! It seems your heroics have been immortalized by our free press." She watched his face intently. "They're calling you a protector. A guardian. Quite the reputation to live up to over breakfast."
Nowa, who had been staring blankly at the space where Sakuya vanished, nodded slowly.
"I see... new protector. Good news, I guess..." he mumbled. "My day just became more at ease... now that I have a partner to share the..."
The sentence died in his throat. His eyes, which had been half-lidded and unfocused, shot widened.
"Wait,"
'Me? In a news?!!'
His head snapped towards Remilia, the last trace of his grogginess, blasted away.
"WHAT?!"
Remilia leaned back, a hand over her mouth to stifle a delighted laugh. "Why, the article, of course!" she said, feigning innocence. "All about your daring rescue. The public has quite taken a shine to you. Even the fairies within my mansion. They've decided you're our new heroic sentinel."
Sakuya re-entered at this exact moment, holding a robe. She looked at the scene; Remilia's triumphant smirk and Nowa's shell-shocked expression. She simply held the robe open for him.
"First, put this on. Then, you can have your existential crisis."
As he slipped into the robe.
'How was that possible?! If my name or my story is written in a news, it should have been blurred! And… That camera girl, she's still alive to spread it?! I let her write me down yesterday because I knew damn well she WILL die right after I left their proximity… she would've died somewhere or sometime after leaving my proximity, I don't give a shit about her so I let her go against my deal of the past of the things I gave up, but… how…?'
He let out a low, almost childish groan of despair and facepalmed. "God dammit," he muttered under his breath.
'What is going on… something's not right about it…'
He took a seat at the dining table, the chair scraping softly against the floor. A plate of breakfast; eggs, sausage, and a small portion of sautéed mushrooms, was promptly placed before him by Sakuya, who then retreated to her customary observant posture.
Remilia watched him pick up his fork with an amused smile. "No appetite for fame, Mr. Beckitzer?" she prodded, resting her chin on her hand. "Most would savor the spotlight along with their eggs."
Nowa responded by stabbing a sausage and taking a bite.
'Miss, I am having an existential crisis here, my deals are absolute. The consequences are immense if one is stepped out…' his gaze wanders. '...Wait… What are the terms again?' He chewed, swallowed, '…ugh, something ain't right. Firstly, I must keep it to myself for now, this information is complicated to explain to them.'
Then he pointed the empty fork at her. "...Not the type who showers in fame. That would be someone I know who would absolutely shower innit, his nose going big with it too."
Somewhere in the depths of space, aboard a sleek spacecraft, Chris sneezed violently. He blinked, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Huh. Well, someone's fuckin' talking behind my back."
Back in the SDM,
Nowa then turned his attention to the eggs, eating with focus that was clearly his chosen method of conflict avoidance.
"A friend from your travels, I take it?" Remilia asked. "How colorful."
Nowa gave a noncommittal hum around a mouthful of food, his eyes fixed on his plate. He finished the last of his eggs in silence, placing his fork on the plate, serving himself his own water via the fancy porcelain jug, and down the cup in one go. He then took a long, slow breath. Placing the cup back on the table. Then, his head tilted back towards them.
"So, who articulated that?" he asked.
As if on cue, from the entrance of the dining room, came a familiar, booming voice.
"Yo! Old-timer! Good morning!" Marisa grinned with an energetic tone but there was a tired circles under her eyes. Beside her, Reimu stood, looking equally exhausted but with a deadpan expression. Yet, her posture relaxed slightly upon seeing him, a silent look of relief passing through her eyes.
Nowa met their gaze. "Morning." He muttered to his dismay.
Marisa strode in, her gaze flicking from the newspaper in Remilia's hand to Nowa's dismayed face. "How's the news?" she asked, her grin widening. "We heard from The Yakumo that you're hosting a council later noon. Did something change?"
Nowa stood up, his focus narrowed on Reimu and Marisa. The dramatic irony of the newspaper article vanished as he took in the visible evidence of their exhaustion, the dark circles under their eyes, the slump in Reimu's shoulders that her usual deadpan couldn't quite mask. He stepped towards them, stopping at a respectable distance.
"What's up with you two, Mushroom Kid? Miss Ribbon?" he asked.
Reimu could only offer a weary sigh at the nickname, too drained to muster a protest. Marisa scratched the back of her head.
"Well, uhhh…" she began, before suddenly zipping directly in front of him and clasping her hands together in a frantic, pleading pose. "Promise me you won't be mad first, Ze!"
"Uh… sure?" Nowa replied, taken back by her intensity.
Marisa looked up at him, her eyes wide with guilt. "I, uhhh… broke your rune roomba. The one you made for me."
The confession hung in the air for a single second.
"It's all because I wanted to learn the Framework Rune! That's why I stayed up all night! I was studying all its components! And… and… it kinda… well, it broke. A lot."
Nowa stared at her. He even glanced back at Sakuya as if seeking advice from her, but found no words to ask. He shifted his gaze back to Marisa, processing. Then, a disbelieving snort escaped him, followed by a dry, rasping chuckle.
"Really? That's the earth-shattering confession? Well, it's okay. It's just a construct anyway, I can fix it."
Marisa's face brightened up with relief and joy. "Woah! Really? Thank you, Ze! You're the best!"
Her cheer was so bright and infectious that Nowa's expression softened in the process, a genuine, quiet warmth touching his eyes as he looked at her enthusiasm.
Then, that softened gaze shifted to Reimu. "What about you, Miss Ribbon? What's your excuse?"
Reimu immediately averted her eyes, finding a suddenly fascinating spot on the intricate pattern of the floor. Her shoulders tightened.
"I-It's nothing," she muttered. "I just couldn't sleep, that's all."
Nowa noticed her.
'I can sense a subtle fear from her… a different kind of fear, but she seems to be able to manage it. She's tough then, she'll recover, I'm sure.' He gave a slow, accepting nod.
"Hmm. Fair enough."
Reimu felt a subtle wave of relief that he didn't press further, her posture softening.
He then crossed his arms and stood a little straighter. "Right. Time for the main issue." His gaze was now clear and focused on them both. "I believe you two orchestrated that propaganda news, did you not?"
The reaction was immediate. Both of them broke into a visible sweat. Marisa scratched the back of her head nervously, taking a half-step back. "Y-yeah. We uh... wanted to, uh... give the public a positive view of you, Ze!"
Nowa did not look angry, but a familiar, slightly exasperated annoyance settled on his face. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. This is troublesome. I really don't want to get involved in politics. Too much brain muscle fat to burn for so many complication ahead," he muttered to himself, while at the same time his thought process was,
'If they're the ones suggesting to write it… they would've died too… but… they're not. I still remember how the deal works. If someone tries or suggests to write me in any form of story, well, in this case, a news story. They will die by an unknown cause, the start of it is when I leave their proximity, that is the deal that will claim their soul regardless of what they are. Being outside the story is the point of the deal, being outside the story has it's benefits, like a lot. It allows me to erase stories without being erased in the cause. Thus, this novel cannot exist at all. But…'
He briefly glanced at the manuscript before returning to them.
'They are still readin… needless to say… Someone or something is doing this on purpose. The author? No… he's dead though… But who?' He glanced at Reimu. 'Your narrative inheritance is doing this? …maybe, I can't feel it from her if that's the case. This part of the universe's story is… at its Chapter "2,04#,065,069"...? Da fuck is this? The original source chapter of this universe is about eighteen point three millionths of one percent to the billions it says… What da hell kind of exaggerated number is this? …Well, It's safe to say someone started this story long ago… but if my guess are correct, that would make this around year 7500, not 2026.'
A pause. 'I guess that's a call for Detective Nowa's case then. I can see the structure of each story I visit thanks to these rune upgrades after all. But this one seems like on a… No… someone is the original protagonist of this alternative timeline. And that someone is not Reimu, but someone who began this loophole… Someone who…' the statement hung in the air.
'If so, something or someone is doing something behind the scenes, or way before I arrive here, a story untold… And finally, for my strange rune reaction to this world… Someone is experimenting on me…'
Both Reimu and Marisa are confused by his silence.
'No matter how much I can see the structure. It's not as all knowing… there is a limit to this rune system of reading the structure. If I wanted to read more… This world has to be converted to a rune for better understanding… That is the ultimate rune… and a dangerous one… one that allowed me to redo my home multiverse's structure of divinity. The exchange is… This world's destruction… and in that destruction, lies all the information of everything… For your convenience, reader, since you're reading my thoughts. It's like disassembling a toy car and seeing its full set-up up close, and you know which one is which so you fully customize it to your liking… I have to avoid it… cuz the latter is that killing them all is the answer if that's so.'
Then he looked at them both. "...Well, it happened." He stated.
Remilia slightly raised an eyebrow, taking a thoughtful sip of tea, acknowledging his casual takeover of the 'crisis'.
'But, I'm now more concerned. What if it's a fucking delayed tick death? …Are they gonna die because of that in the future…? I really… really don't like the idea of altered terms… I have a very, very bad feelin about this.'
"But that will be it, alright?"
'Fuck, I hope it's not a frickin foreshadow that these two will die on that fuckin term man… I don't have any luck throughout my life… Well, if it comes to that, I'll just use 50ms Author to resurrect them. I have the tools for it now.' He internally sighed. 'I REALLY wish I didn't jinx it.'
Marisa beamed with palpable relief. "You got it, Ze! No more sneakiness!" she declared, before adding with a wink, "Well, probably less, anyway!"
'Oh come on…' Nowa internally frowned.
Reimu offered a single, sharp nod of agreement.