A Genre Within A Genre
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Mai Taniyama, a nineteen-year-old girl well on her way into burying herself under a wonderful hell called 'college', has—surprisingly—kept her part-time job in Shibuya Psychic Research all these years. This quaint company is not, well, normal per se. See… There, they hunt ghosts for a living.
Yup. Ghosts. They hunt 'em. For a living.
Such fun.
She's been working in SPR for almost four years now, and you might say she has been desensitized from all the nightly howls of pain, sudden goose bumps of doom, grand possessions of terror, etc. All the experiences she has had before are all kiddie games to her now. What? Eerie dolls kidnapping children? Crazy voodoo ladies coming out to take revenge on the innocent? Sinister immortal men (with bad breath) rising out of bathtubs brimming with blood? Psh. Childish.
Now, now. People might think her to be absolutely mental for not being scared of these, but seriously? Perhaps she already is. Y'know, bonkers. After all, she fears a much tamer experience with the supernatural, even dreaming about it every night since.
Almost a year has passed after the incident, but Mai remembers every detail, from how the sun was shining, how the grass was green, how she wept after comprehending what happened and how he smiled before leaving her forever.
She had been walking from uni to work at the time, skipping merrily as she hummed a tune. She was in a great mood. Why? Because Kazuya Shibu—Oliver Davis, her boss, was finally coming back from England to reclaim his lair and minions. After so so soooo long, the great Narcissus incarnate was finally coming home.
Delight encased her bright brown orbs, a smile dancing across her features. It was a great day to feel great too. The cherry blossom trees were blooming in the same way they had when she first entered (ahem, was swindled into, ahem) SPR. Stray roseate petals fell gracefully to the grey pavement, creating a scene worthy of Monet's genius.
But.
A blob ruined everything. Everything. Her good mood vanished, her smile fell and her pace faltered. Even the sun hid behind dutiful clouds, sensing the change in atmosphere. And the blob? Well, it just stood there. Mai's eyes stayed transfixed, leering persistently at the bluish entity.
She held her gaze at it for more than just a moment. The clocks might have already melted around her, but she did not care. She had a feeling that if she lifted her eyes from it, it will vanish without ever returning.
And it did.
She only blinked, then it was gone.
Her heart might have left with it, because until now, her chest stays hollow.
Good bye, it whispered. I'm sorry.
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