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Chapter One
~Aldea's POV
I feel someone's arm crash into the back of my head and I dig my elbow sharply back in the direction of the person who did it. I hear a muffled cry and I smirk. The tube door opens and I wait slightly to the side of the door for people to get off, glaring daggers at the ignorant, self-righteous morons who try to push their way onto the tube before people have finished getting off. I barge my way past idiots and climb on. I lean against the pole and hold onto it as JubyPhonic's English KagePro covers blast through my headphones. A girl, maybe two years older than me, gives me an approving smile as she stares at my clothes. Someone appreciates my incognito cosplay, at least. I make eye contact with the girl and she mouths something that vaguely looks like I'll take a potato chip and eat it. I smile at her and then look away.
I stare blankly at the opposite door until the tube stops at Piccadilly Circus. I push myself away from the pole and get off the train. I pull my ticket out of my pocket and walk up the stairs. By the time I reach the top, I'm completely worn out. A few people give me odd looks. I'm not unfit, but I'm not used to stairs because I live in a ground floor flat. I pull my water out of my bag and take a few sips, before putting my ticket into the slot on the barrier, retrieving it and walking through. I grin and try to hold back the fangirl squeal bubbling in my throat. I'm almost there! I sprint out of the station, gaining a few weird looks from the poor people who are hit by my long braid that flies out behind me as I pass them.
I throw myself around the corner from the tube station and into the part of the Trocadero building that is home to Tokyo Toys. I bounce over to the shop and step into it, making my way straight to the plushies that line the wall. I scan the rows of fictional hotties until I spot the one I'm looking for: Hatsune Miku. I grab her down from the shelf and continue to look around. I decide to get a Colossal Titan plushie, too. I pick up four boxes of matcha green tea Pocky and a box of milk Happy Panda and take them to the counter. I pull my Death Note wallet out of my pocket and take out hand the employee the £38.70 it comes to.
"Would you like a bag?" she asks, and I shake my head, gesturing to my SNK rucksack. She nods with a smile.
"Thank you!" I say, scooping my stuff up off of the counter and shoving it into my rucksack as I leave the store. I stand out in the street for a few minutes, wondering what I should do next. I still have four hours before I need to meet my dad in Leicester Square. It comes to me, and I click my fingers. I walk back to the tube station and take a deep, steadying breath before going back underground.
I go to the northbound Piccadilly Line platform and wait for seven minutes for a train to come. I board it, glad that it's much emptier than the one from Waterloo was. I get off at the first stop- Leicester Square- and go to the northbound Northern Line platform. I board the first train and again get off at the first stop. This time, it's Tottenham Court Road. I walk up the stairs and leave the station, relief flooding me when I'm above ground again. I trudge along the road until I reach Forbidden Planet. I enter and go straight down to the manga section, checking to see if there's anything new that's worth reading. I give up on that, though, opting to get the next few volumes of Naruto, instead. I've already read the whole thing, sure, but I don't actually have my own copies of all of them yet. I grin when I see that they're on 3 for 2 and decided to get six of them. I have enough money to get six volumes and still get takeaway ramen from Japanese Canteen near UCL. I scan the shelves and let out a loud squeal when I see the manga that I've been wanting to buy for ages. Kagerou Daze! I put back three volumes of Naruto and pick up the first three volumes of Kagerou Daze. I go back up to the checkouts and wait patiently for my turn. Finally, I'm at the front of the queue. I place the manga on the counter and hand over the money when I'm asked. I shove the manga into my rucksack and continue on my way.
An hour or so later, I'm sitting on a bench by the river Thames, eating ramen and inwardly fangirling. I shove noodles and tofu into my mouth, pausing every so often to sip some of the miso base. I sigh happily. The only things that are missing from the paradise I'm in are a handful of particular anime protagonists (and an antagonist or two, for good measure). I stare at the river, imagining the Iwatobi swim team messing about in it. I allow a small smile to make its way onto my face.
My fantasies are suddenly cut short by a familiar figure passing by. My eyes widen and my heart pounds in my chest, though I'm not sure why. The person isn't supermodel material, and as an asexual I don't feel that sort of attraction to people. I frown, trying to figure out who it is and why they're affecting me in this way. The person turns and I gasp, dropping my chopsticks. He makes eye contact with me and I look away, blushing. I let my eyes drift back across to him. His eyes are fixed on me. I know now who it is. I inwardly chastise myself for not recognising him just from his hair. I complain to my friends about what an asswipe he is almost every day. Against my will, my lips form his name, though no sound comes out. Kuroha, I mouth into the echoing chatter of passersby. He begins to walk over to me, and my body tenses. Please just be a cosplayer, please just be a cosplayer, please just be the best Kuroha cosplayer ever. The single thought echoes through my mind. I know I'm just being stupid. He's a fictional character who doesn't even live in England. Even if he was real, what would he be doing on the Southbank? It must be a cosplayer. It has to be a cosplayer. It has to be.
"Do I know you?" The voice startles me out of my almost trance-like state. His English is strongly accented, and he sounds just like the anime voice actor. My breathing quickens. I glance around. A group of boys in their mid twenties are giving us worried glances as they talk among themselves, and it's obvious that they think he's a predator of some sort.
"N-no. Y-you don't." I say, and he frowns.
"You said my name. You know me. Who are you?" I chew my lip nervously and try to think of what I should tell him. A thought comes to me, and I hope I can act confident enough to pull it off.
"I'm a massive fan of yours. You're truly inspirational. My name's Aldea." I say, planting a fake smile on my face and sticking my hand out for him to shake. A twisted sneer finds its way onto his face.
"Really? You idolise me?" He doesn't sound convinced. I nod.
"Of course! You're amazing!" I bubble, beaming at him. "Could I possibly have a wish granted?" I ask slyly.
"Someone with correct ideas like yours certainly deserves one."
"I want to meet the Mekakushi Dan." I say. Kuroha smirks.
"As you wish, Aldea." My name sounds warped and almost unidentifiable on his lips.
"And I want my Japanese to be better so that I can communicate with them." I say, smiling innocently at him. And I want to stroke Seto's hair, I think, but I don't say it out loud. That would be creepy. Kuroha doesn't say anything else, but I suddenly feel as though I've been plunged into ice water. All of the colour has gone from the world, too. Everything is black, white and every shade of grey imaginable. It scares me, and for a moment I think that he's sent me to the Route XX ending. Am I dead? I turn my head and see pylons sticking up, pushing through the surface of the water that surrounds me.
Colour begins to seep back into my vision, and the first thing I feel is fear. Pure terror fills me as I thrash around in what has turned into a murky brown that almost matches the colour of the Thames. I cup my hands and try to pull myself up. I can't breathe, and I'm afraid. I know that I'm underwater. It's not the water that scares me. I love messing about in the local pool. What scares me is the depth combined with the small fact that I can't swim. My face breaks the surface and I gasp for breath as I thrash around. The river seems to be running through a city, but it's definitely not London. I tread water and scream for help. It's no use, though. It's night time, and there's no one around. Terror takes over my body and I accept the fact that this is where I die. I won't even enter the haze, because it's October.
I give up and begin to sink back under the water, but a startled yell cuts through the air.
"There's someone in the river!" I begin thrashing again, desperately trying to stay above the surface. I swing my head around, trying to spot who it was that yelled. I finally manage to make out the shapes of a group of people standing by the riverbank. One of them runs towards the water and dives in. I calm down slightly, but I don't stop thrashing. It's the only thing keeping me afloat. The person reaches me, and calmly treads water as she wraps my arms around her neck. Her poker-straight hair fans out around her. Her eyes lock onto mine, and warm recognition floods me.