Happy Birthday, Miku! Except...you might not like this gift as much. Oops. Oh well.
In any case, Hello! This is a little story I've been working on for quite a while. It'll come in three parts, of five chapters each. Maybe a fair warning...it's not exactly normal? Or...balanced? Or sane? idk. Rating will stay at T, but don't expect this story to sit snugly in the realm of what you'd expect in a real-life scenario.
Also, thanks again to Jak656 and Kokodoru for beta-reading this story! :D
As always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! Don't hesitate to tell me what you think, what could have been done better, or anything!
I hope you enjoy!
"Will follow you for money."
With the title finished, Luka pressed 'post' and sat back in her chair. Her computer screen illuminated her otherwise dark room with a pale-bluish light, the glare of it almost painful to Luka's tired eyes. She eyed her post, exhausted; it was two in the morning or so, and she hadn't slept in over twenty-eight hours. She had searched very long for the perfect place to publish it. Writing it took even longer: it had taken about a day on its own, just long hours of painstakingly choosing every word exactly for what she wanted to say, laying down the rules, and organizing everything so that it looked good. She had made it look professional. She had made it impossible to track it back to herself, avoiding personal information to the slightest detail. She had even made the effort to write in a style that wasn't hers, with short sentences and long words. After all, if she was to indulge in her practice and make money from it, she didn't want anybody she knew to find out.
The title said it all. She loved following people. She loved choosing a random person in the middle of a crowded street and stalking them to their destination. She'd arrive in the strangest places, find the best shortcuts, the most interesting people. If she lost her target, she chose another. But losing her target hardly ever happened any longer, not since she graduated, even though she sometimes needed to run, or even get a taxi. She grew confident, knowing that she would see her target 'til the end. Sometimes, if the walk was long, she entertained herself by guessing where they were going and why. Were they going home, or to an underground improv show? Were they going shopping, or to a BDSM dungeon? Were they picking up a child from school, or eloping?
Luka loved it. She loved every part of it. She'd been following people for five years: since high school had started. On that first day, she had no idea where the classes were, and followed her schoolmates around. As benign as it was, and as impractical as it was compared to simply asking for directions, she discovered that she got a kick out of it. Then she followed them home, and then she followed strangers...literally everywhere. One day, shortly before her final exams, she'd followed one person all the way to another city. It had been the greatest adventure of her life. The stranger had gone to an airport, that Saturday night. Luka had purchased the plane ticket the moment she'd known where he was going...and had followed him all the way to his home. It was thanks to that stranger that she'd found her current studio. And by Monday, she was back, and nobody had ever known that she had been to the other end of the country.
That was probably the best part: nobody ever knew she was there. Nobody knew they were being followed. Watching them walk or sit or drive just ahead, carelessly going where they needed to be, not knowing that they were bringing someone along with them… Yes, that was the best part. Maybe it was some sort of espionage thing. Maybe it was getting to feel somewhat like an omnipresent being. Maybe it was getting to taste a part of someone else's life. She didn't know, but she delighted in it all the same.
The cross-country expedition, in particular, had seized her. She absolutely had to return to the city she had discovered thanks to a stranger, a gift from an unknowing giver. Two months in her first summer vacation free of high school, she had moved there, leaving her hometown behind, able to bask in the feeling almost constantly; the first taste of the city was slow to leave. Even as she discovered the city thanks to other people, tailing them left and right, simply being in the destination from her biggest adventure enhanced every experience.
The move had been a surprise for her friends and family. Her parents, in particular, wanted her to get a job, and study law. Law — for Luka — had evolved into some sort of joke. After all, her favorite pastime bordered on the illegal. As for the job...
Luka closed her laptop. Maybe she could save up for a car, or a bigger bed, or a pair of curtains. She chuckled. Ultimately, it depended on the success of her post. She wondered if being followed was something that gave some people a kick.
Her stomach growled. Ah, it was probably best to think about the near future though, she thought, as she stood to cook herself some dinner.
Only half an hour later, Luka opened her computer once more. She checked her mail and was pleasantly surprised to find an email.
At first, she rolled her eyes; it was probably her parents, being worried sick about her potentially eating fast food or noodles for a week straight. She hadn't been moved in for two days, and they were already texting and mailing her hourly.
But no. An unknown sender sat there in her inbox. She opened the e-mail.
Someone wanted to be found and followed for two hours straight. Someone wanted to pay her a few hundred for it. Someone was also open to doing it again should it go well.
Luka chuckled. She replied.
"I'll find you. I'll follow you wherever you'll take me. But you'll never find me."
She sent it. Seconds later, her inbox welcomed a new e-mail. It included some information; a little, but just enough. It was signed off with a single word.
"Deal."
Luka whistled a tune as she folded her bed back into a couch. She was going to see her best friend for the first time in almost a year and was looking forward to it. With a bounce in her step, she went over to the table and picked up all of the paper and envelopes that rested there. After looking around for a few seconds, not knowing where to put the papers, she shrugged with a smile and shoved them between a couple of books. Then she emptied the sink, opened the window and made a last check for cobwebs in the corners of the room.
She wondered how Lily was faring; if she had any tales to tell of home; if she had a boyfriend by then; if she'd moved into a place of her own; what she was studying.
A loud unforgiving buzz rang through the room, making the pinkette jump; she wasn't sued to the aggressive sound, for hardly anybody ever needed to visit her. Shaking off the surprise, she opened her door and practically flew towards the front door with a wide grin.
The moment the door opened, the two girls greeted each other with loud, enthusiastic cries. They hugged, mixing together phrases like 'it's so great to see you' and 'how have you been' senselessly. While exchanging their pleasantries, Luka led her to her place, closing the front door behind them.
Luka entered her home with a semi-enthused 'ta-da!'. She knew that her studio wasn't impressive, but it was her place and hers alone; she felt proud for just being able to exist independently with such ease that it showed. Despite the nice furniture and sparkling floors, Lily stayed in the doorway, looking around with slight surprise visible on her features.
"Nice place," she said, all excitement gone.
Luka laughed, rolling her eyes at her best friend's words.
"It's a room, Lily. A studio. Technically, a loft. But it's supposed to be small," she said as she closed the door.
"Right, right," Lily continued looking around. Luka could practically see what she thought of the kitchen, composed of a stove which had only two hot plates, a tiny oven, a mini fridge and a microwave, all packed against a wall in three square meters. It was no luxurious setup by any means, Luka knew, plus it was better than what most could get, but she didn't like the thoughts she was reading on her best friend's face.
A small desk shoved against the fridge marked the transition from kitchen to room, which was just as sparsely furnished. Aside from the desk, there was the chair, a table and a couch, which was pushed under the window, against the far wall.
Luka chuckled humorlessly, sitting down on her couch.
"Yeah, I'm living like a king," she said dryly, hoping to pull her friend from her thoughts.
"...It's a nice room," commented the blonde as she took off her jacket. "I mean...it's got lots of light, and you managed to preserve enough living space despite the lack of space you had to begin with."
Luka sighed at her friend's effort to compliment her home, wishing she could laugh at her poor attempt at masking her true thoughts.
"Having just a table, a chair and a couch help with that," mumbled Luka as her friend came to sit next to her. With a start, Luka realized that she'd forgotten to put away her laptop.
"I bet..." Lily looked around once more. She could see Luka's entire home from where they sat, with the exception of the bathroom; the door, next to the front door, was closed. "How much is the rent?"
"Next to nothing, actually," answered the pinkette, quickly putting her computer away.
"Your parents helping out with that?"
"No, I got a job."
Lily gasped in genuine surprise, "No! Really?"
"It's not like I'm studying, you know. I phone people. Surveys."
She saw her friend flinch.
"Ah...neat?"
"It's nice, actually. Don't have to do much. It pays well enough; I can eat."
They sat quietly for a few moments. Luka could feel the air getting heavy as she waited for the blonde to finally say what was on her mind.
"What's wrong?" she asked when she finally ran out of patience.
Lily sighed at the question.
"I don't know, Luka. You...you're a really bright, talented person. I always thought you'd end up being an explorer or an astronaut or something...awesome. But… This is the kind of place I expected to end up in, Luka. Not you. Yet, now you're far from home, in a room, with a desk job, and you're just twenty-one."
Luka was taken aback.
"And?"
"I guess I always saw you doing something...better than this," as she spoke, Lily gestured towards the room. "Bigger than this."
"I'm happy, Lily!" Luka assured, sincere.
The blonde turned towards her, mildly surprised.
"Really?"
"Really."
Luka sighed heavily, unable to get the morning out of her mind. She was so happy to see her best friend again...but then it had gone sour.
She shook her head; after that, it had gone better. They'd chatted, and it wasn't as if anybody needed an amphitheater to have a one-on-one conversation, so the blonde couldn't complain any more about her living quarters than she already had. Dinner was pleasant, too. Lily was studying geology, had a part-time job as a waitress, and still lived with her parents. There were a fair number of stories about Luka's parents because they had taken to visiting the Masuda residence since her departure. Lily said that her father's hair was going gray, which made Luka feel something between melancholy and nostalgia. A year was longer than she liked to admit, yet it felt like no time had passed at all.
She shook her head again, deciding that she had to focus. While she was talented at creeping around after sunset, her destination demanded her full attention.
There it was: four stories tall, narrow, dark, squeezed against the house next to it. A small alley to the house's left led to the back of the residence; it had a garden, just like all of the houses on the block. The walls were an off-white, the lights weren't on, the door was shut tight. She knew that it had more than just one lock, and she knew that every window was armed.
Luka sighed. She'd taken countless pictures of the place. By sheer observation, she had managed to map out most of the interior. Only a little bit more, and she'd know the place… well enough.
A shiver ran down her spine. It was chilly out for late spring, and she wasn't wearing a coat. Only a long-sleeved shirt, a pair of leggings, gloves, and some gym shoes protected her from the cold. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail; she could feel the breeze on her neck.
She looked over her shoulder once, twice, then checked again. Only a little bit more till she knew how the whole place fit together. Unfortunately, that little bit more required a step that was not so little. The thought set her heart alight in a painful way.
Skillfully, she ducked into the little side alley. That wall of the house only had windows on the top two floors, so no need to hide from those. But she needed to be swift nonetheless; it was a quiet residential area, and any step too much could make all of her careful planning fall apart. The side alley stopped at a small fence which connected the two homes, stopping people from entering the garden. It was easily hopped over.
She avoided the soil and branches, making sure absolutely nothing of her could be left behind. No footprints, no snaps, nothing. Another chill ran down her spine, but the cold wasn't at fault that time. She could feel her heart in her throat, she could feel how her blood was being pumped down her arms and legs. It shook her, literally.
One glance at the backyard was enough; nobody was ever outside that late, private garden or not. Despite that, she hid in a bush and observed her surroundings.
Most of the neighbors had large hedges around their little backyards, effectively sealing themselves from the others. This house went even further: there was a fence of sorts, bamboo maybe, behind the dense shrubbery. But that didn't mean that Luka was safe from other prying eyes, or ears. If anybody was outside to inhale the cool evening air, she could be heard. She listened, quietly, as she gazed up at the back façade of the building.
A single light was on, on the third floor. Luka checked her watch; quarter to eleven. She looked back up, only to see that the light had gone out. Clockwork. Inhale, exhale, relax.
She waited another twenty minutes. Only if there was no new light on by then would she decide to move again. Until then, she waited, fully aware of her surroundings, feeling her fingers chill and her heartbeat slow. She breathed deeply, letting the chill sting of the wind into her nose and lungs.
No light. Admitting to herself that she'd waited long enough was enough to make her heart skyrocket, despite her best attempt to keep herself calm. Her fingers, cold, started trembling again. It wouldn't stop her, she told herself. Nothing will.
She crept up to the home, no longer caring about hiding in the bushes. There, behind some plants and conveniently de-thorned roses, was a grate which led to the basement. Normally, it would be bolted down into the cement around it, but normally there wasn't a regular visitor armed with tools who took pictures of the place on a weekly basis. Consequence: the bolts were long gone, and the grate was lifted with ease.
The stones crunched slightly as Luka jumped down the pit. She froze but heard no reaction of any kind. Even the wind had stopped. Gingerly, she put the grate back in its place. The soil falling in her eyes made the task difficult; the weight of the metal, the stress, and the cold made her arms tired. After a moment, it was secured in its cradle, so she turned to the window which kept her out of the basement.
No little black bug clung to the frame of the window, red light shining. It was the only unarmed window in the entire building. That was why she was there, it was her only way in.
She kicked her shoes against the wall, making absolutely sure no dirt would follow her inside. After double checking her ponytail and her gloves, she pushed against the window's frame.
It didn't budge. Of course.
Luka willed her heart to calm down. Just look at what kind of mechanism is closing it, she told herself. Just look, and worst case scenario...come back tomorrow with a plan B.
She squinted, trying to see inside. It was not so much the dark that stopped her from finding what she sought, but the awkward angle; she was tall, the window was not. She did not know how it worked, or what exactly she was looking for.
She quickly realized that it was a window that could slide upwards. If she was lucky, there would only be a simple plastic or metal device that stopped it from being opened from the outside. Where could it be?
When her glove touched the wooden frame of the window again, she realized that the paint was chipping. How old was this thing? Spurred by sudden excitement, she took out a thin but sturdy knife she'd brought with her and ran it under the window. It was loose on its hinges and hung away from the wall a bit. She wondered how much of a draft ran through the home because of it. She remembered that the residents probably didn't count on staying in that home for very long, which probably explained why they decided to simply allow the old window to stay, with the bolted grate as the sole measure of security.
As she ran the blade across the top of the frame, she met metal. There it was; she pushed against it and quicker than she had anticipated, it sprang loose. The window clattered, and whatever she had dislodged fell to the floor inside with several muted clangs. She waited with baited breath, scared to the core. She hadn't expected such a swift result, and hadn't expected the noise. But the home remained silent. The residents were dead to the world. Carefully, she tried pushing the window upwards. It got stuck, but after shaking it a bit, it finally decided to slide all the way upwards with only several rattles. Luka squeezed herself in and shut the window behind her.
The home was eerily quiet. She hardly dared to breathe. The basement smelled of damp laundry, dust, and rotting wood. Quietly, she picked up the broken mechanism; it had rusted through and through. She pocketed it, not wanting anything to stay behind.
She crept through the basement for a while; she wanted to know the place inside out. Most of the rooms were pretty empty, but none were locked. In one room, there was a washing machine, a dryer, a large closet, and a few boxes. It was the only room with a working light. In the closet, she found various summer clothes and shoes. It was full to the brim. Another room contained the boiler and quite a few pipes with dials. A plastic box on the wall indicated that close to no electricity was being used right then. A third room had a large rack with wines of all sorts against the far wall. All bottles had collected a huge quantity of dust, so Luka didn't even dare look at how old they were.
She didn't know what to feel about such an empty basement; even though it was clear that it was hardly ever visited, there was nowhere to hide, and whenever she let her foot fall a bit too loudly it echoed. Dust was everywhere, coating the floor, just waiting to catch her footprints. The more she realized that her environment only put her at a disadvantage, the more she ached to find a better room.
She already knew most of the layout of the other floors, thanks to her previous scouting and some logic. She knew that there would be a kitchen and a dining room on the first floor, and an office on the third, for example, but had no idea where she could possibly hide.
She tiptoed up the steps, feeling the air grow warmer as she went. Slowly, she opened the door, only to freeze when it creaked. Once again, she waited till she was sure that nobody had heard the noise of her intrusion. She checked the time: almost midnight. Even the father, who worked till very late, would be deep asleep at this hour. What she didn't know was how deeply they actually slept, and she wasn't about to go test their limits.
The door continued to creak and groan no matter how she tried to open the door. She tried everything between nearly imperceptible movement to a quick shove open. Both rewarded her with a high-pitched sound, one long and never-ending, the other a shrill shriek. At the end, the door was open, Luka was in the doorway, in the dark, waiting for a reaction.
Still nothing, much to Luka's relief. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest, though. After all, she was in a stranger's home, with no hiding places, and the only thing she knew of was that she was facing the west side of the building.
She calmed herself down and looked around. The home was fairly narrow, so the whole structure was built around its length. The northern wall to her right had the front door, framed by a closet, mat and a dresser. Then the space evolved, to her surprise, into something akin to a small living room; there was a couch against the wall, a few chairs, and a coffee table. A large clock and some fancy hanging shelves showing off porcelain kitchenware adorned the walls. This space was closed from the rest of the floor by a strange protrusion into the space, giving it the feeling of a nice and closed welcome space. That southern wall was braced by a spiral staircase, which led upstairs. The protrusion was its own little room, from what Luka could tell in the dark, and the side that faced her was directly in front of her, and also had a door. She took a single step forward, crossing what she thought was a hall of sorts, and opened it. She found a very simple bathroom, the simple toilet and sink combination. The ceiling of the room was slanted; the staircase, after the elbow, ran just above it.
Silently, she closed the door and turned towards her left. Exactly opposite the front door was the door that led to the garden. This door also played the role as some sort of marker; it separated the dining space from the kitchen. To the left of the door was a table and four chairs, the walls adorned with paintings. To the right, she found a fridge, stove, oven, and numerous cabinets and cupboards.
Luka opened everything, searching for any empty space. To her luck, she found an empty cabinet next to the oven, and after looking under the tablecloth she found a large hiding place between the four chairs, provided nobody sat at the table, of course. The couch in the living room was very wide and low, so with some effort, she could crawl under it and remain invisible. The stairs invaded the living room somewhat, and there was a cabinet under the steps. It was very small though, so she doubted she could go in there easily. She found nothing else.
She took out her notepad and scribbled down a reminder to bring oil for the hinges of the door to the basement; both the front and kitchen door had huge locks that she wouldn't ever be able to invisibly bypass, and the windows in the kitchen, which overlooked the garden, couldn't be opened at all. The basement remained her only way in and out, and the creaky door was her only obstacle.
Luka sighed, realizing that she was going to take the next step and go up the stairs. They would bring her closer to the living beings which she could wake at any moment. She had managed to forget them to some degree while she studied her surroundings, but now that she needed to go somewhere, she was reminded of where she was going, and what was waiting for her.
She steeled herself. She had already managed to break in, she had managed to go to the ground floor. One more, she told herself. At least one more. In some form of meditation, she checked her gloves and ponytail again.
The stairs were carpeted and made absolutely no noise. They were, however, narrow. Too narrow for comfort. Whatever light had managed to slip into the rooms behind her didn't manage to make it past the turn, so when she looked into the second floor's room, she was met by nearly perfect darkness.
She waited a few minutes in the elbow of the stairs to let her vision adjust. She prided herself in how well she could navigate in the dark, but knew her limits. Quietly, patiently, she sat down against the wall and stared into the black room.
Minutes ticked by. She could only hear herself breathe. When the refrigerator started humming, she almost jumped.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she could make out various shapes. To her right, above the kitchen, was a proper living room, with more furniture. This also surprised her somewhat; such a room was usually used frequently, but she had hardly ever seen any activity in this part of the home before. There was even a fireplace in the southern wall, and the pale outlines of frames on the walls, which suggested a very welcoming and comfortable room. A large carpet covered the floor. She supposed that in daylight, it would look homely. The windows were closed for the night, however, and the shutters didn't let any light through.
Slowly, carefully, she walked between the various couches and chairs and tables in the room. Every one had spindly and long legs; none made a good hiding spot. A metallic grid covered the fireplace, and Luka decided it was too dark to try to figure out how exactly it opened.
She refused to look at the pictures hanging on the walls.
The northern half of the floor was an office of sorts, as expected. Numerous books about business, economy and the like covered the east wall. An abnormally large desk faced the windows to the north, but they too had light-tight shutters. Upon the desk were various books, and Luka thought she could recognize schoolbooks. What truly struck out to her was the paint on the walls; it wasn't that the painting wasn't well done, but it stopped at a certain point, and noticeably enough so that she could see it in the darkness. She figured that the room had been refitted in order to become an office. Briefly, she wondered what it could have been before. Maybe it left a few structural secrets behind?
Knowing this made her obsess over the room for a bit too long. She felt against the walls, pulled at the books on the shelves. The seam where the paint ended was too perfect, yet she couldn't find anything.
She wrote down that she had to bring some extra supplies on her next visit. The first item on the list; a small flashlight. Maybe one with an almost-empty battery, or with adjustable intensity. Then she wondered how easy it would be to find the original blueprints of the home. Another item on her list was a measuring tape. There was something about the room, she knew it, and she was set on figuring out what it was. After all, what she didn't know will hurt her.
The stairs emerged a meter or so into the room, so it was fitted with fences so that nobody could fall into them from the sides. The following stairs to the third floor were next to them, also fenced off. She didn't like the fact that on the first floor, the stairs had been moved into the corner of the mini-living room without guards, and suddenly on the second floor, there was this grid, and it was all that separated the stairs from the rest of the space, not to mention that it was the only thing that separated the two different rooms from each other. Because the division wasn't as...opaquely obvious as it had been downstairs, she could see from one room to another. She was unhappy from a practical point of view: on the first floor, she could hide in the kitchen without being seen from the front door, but on the second floor, she could be seen from anywhere. Only the desk made a decent hiding place, except the chair took all of the space under it. And of course, the design choice didn't fit her tastes: why a fence? There could have been walls or curtains, or another bathroom to mimic the first floor. It was useless to complain about the lack of taste in the design, of course, so she pressed on, hoping to find a better hiding place.
Luka pushed past the anxiety from going up yet another floor and simply went upstairs. The stairs continued to be carpeted, luckily, so there was some consistency. The third floor was as dark as the second, which didn't bother the intruder in the slightest by then.
She was startled by the sudden change in layout: until then, the stairs had spiraled somewhat, intruding into the living space. But there, in front of her on the third floor, she saw wooden steps leading up to the last floor, sticking out of the eastern wall. They were very narrow and hardly as intrusive.
To Luka's right, she found another office. Windows were on the western and southern walls, and a light was on the desk; that was the light she had seen over an hour prior. This was the office the father worked in, she knew. On the eastern wall, she found more books in a custom built bookcase, so that it would fit snugly under the steps. The was no strange paint on the walls and no uneasy feeling about the room, no schoolbooks, and there was a large desk under which she could hide. The theme of the books remained economics, plus a dash of politics. A single framed picture sat next to a shut laptop.
Just like with the previous floor, a fence made sure that nobody in the office could accidentally fall down the stairs. But, unlike the previous floors, the other room on the floor was totally cut off from the office and stairs alike by a large white wall. More books covered some parts of the wall, and in the middle of the wall was a door.
Luka feared it might be a bedroom. She knew that the father was home, at the least, and he was probably right there, behind that door.
Her heart rate skyrocketed; only a door kept her from a man, and only a door kept that man from the intruder.
She forced herself to breathe. He hadn't heard her till now. His desk looked smaller, but the chair was different, so she could hide there if she absolutely had to. Despite the little mantras she told herself, all of which were meant to be reassuring, she couldn't shake the fear. She couldn't and wouldn't open that door. Not that night.
She checked the time: a little over two o'clock. She had spent more time than she had expected in the office on the second floor. The room, remembered, bothered her anew. What was wrong? She couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Luka then turned towards the last staircase. She figured that the third floor hadn't been that bad, so she could go for the whole house in one go.
Unlike the rest of the house, she had no idea what to expect on the top floor. It was too high up to properly observe from outside, but she could presume that there would be at least one other bedroom up there, with some living space.
Contrary to the spiraling stairs, the last set wasn't carpeted at all and creaked ever so slightly when she applied too much weight to the outer end of the steps. So, she hugged the wall until she reached the last floor.
Instead of being greeted with open space, she met a door. She was facing southwards, and could only imagine that the door was just far enough from the southern wall to be able to open.
Slowly, she pushed the door open, and found that she was right; she saw the southern wall, and through the nearest window, the garden. She had to stop to let herself adjust to the light a second time: the faint moonlight felt like a searing burn to her eyes. It didn't take nearly as long as getting used to the dark, so less than a minute later, she crept into the room and closed the door behind her.
She turned to be able to see the rest of the room. It was large and open, and in the northeastern corner she saw another protrusion; Luka supposed that it was another bathroom. Large windows were present on all four walls of the room, giving the entire space a blue aura.
It was so open that Luka suddenly realized that she hadn't ever thought of the possibility that there was motion detection security in the home; all of the windows were armed, as were the doors, so why wouldn't they have detectors? She hadn't spotted any, but technology allowed those things to get tinier and harder to find. Maybe there was a silent alarm? Maybe the police were on their way at that very moment, since she stepped into the basement?
She shook her head, calming herself; she'd been in the home for more than two hours by then. If the response team for this security was so slow, then this family wouldn't trust it, and wouldn't have it. Yet, for the home to be so airtight from the world, but to have no motion detection? It confused her.
She noted down the detail in her little book. It was food for thought. Then she resumed her analysis of the room, hoping to find some refuge in its open space.
More books lined the western wall, interrupted by windows. The middle of the large bookcase contained a stereo sound system. Upon inspection, she found that it was hooked up to devices that allowed whoever used it to play back records, cassette tapes, CD's and had a dock for various mobile devices. Impressed, she moved on to inspect the books, only to find fantasy and romance-oriented stories. A wide, soft carpet covered the middle of the floor. A large loveseat and a huge chair were placed around it seemingly haphazardly. The eastern wall had two bookcases filled with CDs, records, and movies, and between the two there was a desk with a pretty nice computer. To the back of the room, in the northwestern corner, there was a bed.
Luka froze. There was a living being in the same room as her. Immediately, she felt vulnerable. The entire room was far too open and uncluttered, she had nowhere to hide. She couldn't even hope to dash down the stairs because they creaked. The more she thought about it, the more fragile and exposed she felt.
But the other person didn't know she was there...
Luka calmed herself, which took quite a few minutes. Then, slowly, she approached the stranger.
Next to the bed, she found a small nightstand with a small lamp, a notebook, and a digital alarm clock. The nightstand had a drawer. Quietly, without even sparing a look towards the sleeping human being, she opened it to find a smartphone and some mp3 player, both charging. Luka wondered what kind of engineering allowed the wires to run into a drawer before berating herself for getting distracted. She shut the drawer and turned towards her victim.
Luka stifled a gasp. She recognized the girl, and it almost broke her heart right at that moment. She'd only seen photos of her when she was...what, nine? Now she was seventeen or so, she remembered. What was her name...? Miku.
Luka stared at her for a long while. At first, it was curiosity. What did she look like? Oblivious. She was dead to the world. She was vulnerable. She was in her home, trusting that her walls would keep her safe. And now, a stranger had managed to creep out of her basement, all the way up to her bed.
At first, it had been curiosity. But it evolved into simply drinking the feeling of power, control, and guilt. Luka stared at her victim, and yes, she knew that even though she wasn't going to do anything to the girl, she was most certainly a victim. Luka was in this girl's home. Luka was in her room. Luka was in her private space. Luka was right next to her! And she didn't know! It didn't help that the girl was just that, a girl! She was a minor!
Luka shivered as the guilt mixed with self-disgust, the feeling of power and control fading away. She decided to keep to a professional mindset and continued inspecting the room.
The bed was high enough to hide under. It was probably the only good hiding place in the entire room. Luka didn't like the fact that her only refuge was right under her threat. She moved to the bathroom, hoping to have more luck.
The bathroom was illuminated by the moon a hundred times; the light bounced off of the tiles infinitely. The setup was extensive. She had a bathtub, a separate shower, a vanity covered in a large range of makeup.
Luka inspected the makeup; there was a lot one could learn about a girl from what kind of makeup she used. She found everything she knew about and more: foundation, mascara, eyeliner, lipstick and gloss, something called primer, eye shadow, rouge, concealer, lip liner, blush, pencils of various sizes and colors, a few bottles of perfume. She only ever used the classic mascara and lipstick, and she knew she could rock both. So, what kind of person was this? Miku had looked quite nice while asleep and makeup-free, making Luka question why she needed so much.
Also, there was the fact that she knew that Miku never left the home. She had nobody to impress. The large collection of books, the extensive music, and the nice computer were Miku's everyday distractions.
But the makeup could be a distraction too, right? Luka inspected various tubes and sticks and bottles to find that everything had been more or less used to some extent. Even makeup had become a pastime...Luka's heart broke a little more as she wondered how lonely the poor girl was.
Carefully, she made sure that nothing looked like it had been touched. Unfortunately, even though the bathroom was richly furnished, it was possibly the worst room in the entire house; everything was white or cream, the glass in the shower was just too clear, and everything was against the wall and the edges met the floor at a right angle. Nothing to crawl under or behind. Luka felt like she was miles away from any hiding spot.
She left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Now that she only had to backtrack, she had to make sure she left everything exactly as she'd found it.
Miku's room really was large, Luka realized. It would take her a couple of seconds before she could reach the door if she ran. She noted that the girl's desk could pass for an emergency hiding spot, but only if the room remained dark.
The girl suddenly turned in her sleep, making Luka freeze. When she realized that there was no immediate threat, Luka relaxed again, but her heart continued to lash against her ribs. She was everywhere she shouldn't be. She was doing everything she wasn't supposed to be doing.
Slowly, she crept back to the bed. Miku was facing the wall, still holding tightly to the covers. She was oblivious. So oblivious.
Luka wondered how the girl had spent her youth 'til then and would continue to live her days. Holed up in a home, meeting nobody, never going anywhere.
She was, Luka figured, her total opposite.
Her heart ached for the girl who was caged in the room Luka had so swiftly managed to sneak into. Miku would never know Luka was there. She might never find out that there was a way out. She might never know that, just out there, was such a huge world filled with beautiful things and disgusting intruders.
Luka repressed a sigh and left the room. Slowly, she made her way back downstairs, not touching anything, not changing anything. As far as the family was concerned, she never was there. She was a ghost, an intangible witness to their sanctuary and their slumber.
She did wonder what she had to do with the broken piece of window. Could she risk coming back with it later and gluing it back on just for looks? Was it worth it? On one hand, the room it came from wasn't used. On the other, all she needed was one slip up, just one person to notice that it's gone for only a day before they lock it properly. There was absolutely no way that Luka was going to risk her only way in. What could she choose? Take it with her and throw it away, or put it back?
Luka decided to give them the illusion that nothing had changed. She put the metal object back in its place on the window, hoping that whatever remained of the rusted screws would be enough to keep it in place while she opened and closed the window as she fled the scene. She'd glue it the next time she visited.
After placing the broken lock back in its place, she carefully opened the window and climbed back outside. When she didn't hear any clattering after shutting the window, she could only assume that all had gone well. Then she lifted the metal grate, climbed out of the hole, replaced the grid, erased her footprints from the soil, kicked her shoes, and left the garden.
She went home.
Little note: 'scarab' is the name sometimes given to the 'unspecified currency' symbol. Thought it sounded cool, and since this story doesn't exactly take place in our world, it fit.