The book landed in front of her. Even if it hadn't done quite that, it still made a heavy thud on the white beach sand, a sound that made her take notice, pick it up. She gave it a cursory look, but for now where it had actually come from was for more important - so she checked first left, then right, then up, then looked back over her shoulder. There didn't seem to be anyone around to have thrown or dropped it, and that made her frown. There wasn't any convenient overhang or tree branch for it to have fallen from, either - that made her frown even more.
Had it really appeared from thin air? Since she was a very logical girl, Koizumi tried not to think about that too much, though she definitely scowled as she studied the book. It was a battered, black wreck of a thing; tattered and torn. The title was unreadable, and half the pages threatened to fall from the rotting binding when she opened it up. However, they retained something like a death grip on it - and so the only thing that actually drifted to the sand was a clean white note that had been placed just inside the cover. Curious as to how something had stayed so pristine when she'd found it, she bent and picked it back up. After a pause, she flipped it over, and found an odd little thing scribbled there:
If you want to save their lives, read this.
– A Friend
She raised an eyebrow at that, glancing about herself once more before turning her attention back to the book. To her, saving anyone's life was ridiculous - she hated to think in such a hopeless fashion when it was exactly what the bear wanted, but it was surely only a matter of time before their little group had a death on their hands. For now, things were peaceful, but Koizumi wasn't stupid. She'd taken enough photos to know that there were tensions bubbling under the smiles in the photographs she'd gotten of those stranded here, even though it was only their first day – Hinata's strained expression, Togami's cold gaze, the way Souda stood so casually that it crossed several lines and became extraordinarily tense. Soon, soon, though she didn't want to admit it, someone would die, and there would be nothing she could do about. Perhaps shewould be the first person to go, and she was certainly in a good place to be killed. Socially, she was the pushy girl not even Sonia appreciated, and in terms of the location, she was all alone on a beach in the middle of nowhere. If this wasn't prime murder scenario material, she wasn't entirely sure what was.
Unless this book can seriously save lives, she thought, but was quick to stop herself there - she'd never heard of such a thing. The note was most definitely a lie – and yet, she was curious. Koizumi gave the book one last, doubtful look, before turning to the first page. It wasn't in a language she could understand; it looked something like French or German, or at least it was composed of English letters, each arranged to make words she didn't understand at all. With a snort, the redhead flipped though - perhaps there was dictionary in the back - but only gibberish greeted her – different symbols, different handwriting, but all at about the same level of nonsense. How was she supposed to read any of this?
Maybe she should take it to Sonia. this could be a valuable clue of some sort– and then her fingers brushed across the last page. This in itself wasn't any big deal, more a statement of how hopeless it was to try and read the book than anything else, but as she did that, the book caught on fire. It burned, it spontaneously combusted, it smoked, it blazed, and honestly it took a moment for the significance of this to sink in, so ridiculous and unlikely it was. But when it did sink in, the photographer, having no small amount of common sense, dropped the book.
Or at least, she triedto.
Dropping the book, as it turned out, was impossible. She jumped back and let go of it, yes, but the damned thing didn't fall. It just hovered in the air, and kept right on being on fire, blue and green flames licking up its sides. Koizumi could feel the heat, was half-blinded by the new light source, and overall was so very surprised that she tripped over her own feet in her attempts to get away, and ended up sprawled in the sand in front of it. She couldn't move, only watch, see how one by one, the thing's pages were flicking backwards. And - maybe it was her imagination, but in those terrifying moments, Koizumi thought she could recognize every blue–tinged word that flew by. It was an instruction manual of some sort, but not a sensible sort – she caught one too many references to mind–reading, and brainwashing, and-
Wait, was that my name–?!
But how the text had apparently changed to something intelligible, how the thing was on fire and floating, and how the book knew who had just touched it were not things the photographer could think about right now. She snapped out of her stunned state, scrambling to her feet, escape all that she could consider – she had to get away from the book, before something worse happened, something along the lines of 'large, possibly mystical fireball to the head'. Glancing over her shoulder towards the waves, Koizumi slowly began to back away, towards the sea. Perhaps, her panicked mind reasoned, she could put out the flames if she managed to make it there.
It took a few seconds for her to realize it, but the thing was following her, floating along with those pages flicking backwards one by one. It had made it halfway through the book now, and she could have sworn that the enormous flames weren't red and purple when the whole mess had started. She didn't want to think about what would happen if it made it to the start of the book. One step, two, the soothing sound of the sea becoming ever louder, the familiar softness of wet sand against her shoes. She was almost there, just one more step, just one more–
The rest of the pages fell to the ground in a smoldering heap, leaving only a miniature fireball floating in the air. The sea seemed to hold its breath with Koizumi in those two seconds of awkward silence – and then the thing lunged for her and she was stumbling back with a screamed expletive that no sensible girl should know, and one that no sensible writer would ever print. That word brought her no peace of mind, though - there was only a light bright enough to qualify for a blank Word document in reply, and then a white–hot pain in her chest and cool water against her back. Everything was going wrong, everything was painful, and there was no familiarity left, nothing but white light and pain, not even a splash when she fell flat on her back in the shallows, just a screeching, louder than the worst of Mioda's guitar playing – wait, no, that was her own voice–!
A crescendo, and then a dreadful quiet.
