The tree branch outside Toma's room danced in the piercing wind, casting erratic shadows on the wall behind her. The dark-haired girl sat slumped at her desk, fighting to stay awake. Leaving her homework to the last minute had not been the best idea. By the light of her desklamp, she tried in vain to wrap her tired brain around the problems that swam across the page in front of her. Ordinarily, she would have had little trouble tackling these antiquated sums, but in her sleep-deprived state they were rendered an incomprehensible soup of numbers.
Of course, this wasn't the only reason she couldn't concentrate.
The bespectacled girl's head was swarming with thoughts of Torako. That strange, perpetually enthusiastic girl who had caused Toma so much confusion. She was so... energetic, for want of a better term. Ever since their first meeting, she'd wanted to be Toma's friend, and endeavoured to fulfil her quest with psychotic zeal. At first, she felt mostly annoyance toward the other girl. Who is this fool, and why does she and her entourage of weirdos keep hassling me? It seemed simple. But it wasn't. There was something... intriguing about her. She did frequently infuriate her, but... somehow she didn't mind that much. She liked having Torako around, no matter how illogical it was. But then, things got more complicated. Every time she set eyes upon the shapely blonde, she felt an inexplicable but undeniable rush of happiness. Not that she'd ever let it show. It was true, she could be so cold to Torako at times, but this didn't seem to deter her in the slightest. If anything it seemed to strengthen her resolve. But the reason she tried to drive her away was not because she found her annoying, but because she no longer did. It was strange. She had every reason to regard Torako as an irritating brat. She was loud, rude, abrasive, disrespectful, crass, inconsiderate, funny, kind, sexy...
She started in frustration, blushing. That train of thought had clearly taken the wrong track somewhere.
But it was true. Torako had always inspired... strong feelings in Toma. She'd fought against them, tried to deny or disguise the powerful emotions that Torako inspired in her. But there was no denying it now. She had once, so long ago, felt that she would have to live with Torako's presence, but now she didn't think she could live without it. Her feelings hadn't come to head suddenly, rather they had crept up over time, until the conclusion was inescapable.
She was in love with Torako.
She was reasonably certain what this meant. She'd never been attracted to boys, not in that way. And before, she had found some girls attractive, yes, but she'd just attributed that to a vague sense of longing to belong to a social group, not desire. She'd never really been that concerned with sex and sexuality.
Until she'd met Torako.
She kept cropping up in Toma's dreams in... unusual ways. She longed to reach out and touch her, only to find herself clawing at the darkness. She blushed as she remembered that particular dream. She was so beautiful, her long flowing hair, her brilliant blue eyes, her... other attributes.
Looking back now, she could see that her appreciation for the appearances of other girls went far beyond what was considered "normal", but she hadn't realised this at the time.
But Torako wasn't like her. Torako... didn't have those feelings. Granted: she was very enthusiastic, but she wanted to be Toma's friend, nothing more. How would she react if she told her? With anger? Fear? Disgust? All of the above, probably. Sure, she could brush off Nene's affections, but that was just playful lust. It would be different if a girl was actively in love with her.
She valued their friendship too much. She couldn't tell her.
But not telling her hurt so much.
If she told Torako that she loved her, she was sure that she'd destroy their friendship. But if she didn't tell her, she felt like it would destroy herself.
She knew, sooner or later, she'd have to make a choice.
Toma sighed, then turned around.
And then, she made the most important discovery of her life.
In the corner of her room, was a blue box.
Stunned, Toma sat bolt upright, eyes fixated upon the new arrival. It was tall and rectangular, industrial but strangely organic. It was coloured a brilliant dark blue, and it resembled a wooden phone booth. Boxy writing at the top proclaimed it to be a "police public call box". It looked... bizarre in its inexplicable absurdity.
Where had it come from? Someone couldn't have moved it in; she'd been there the whole time. It was impossible. The most likely explanation, she eventually decided, was that she was dreaming. But after pinching herself several times, to no avail, she concluded that she was not. Perhaps she was hallucinating. Maybe she had finally accepted one of Koma's repeated offers to sell her dope. She shook her head violently, dismissing such a thought. She was prone to making bad decisions, yes, but she'd never be that stupid.
Tentatively, she rose to closer inspect the box. She surveyed it with a mixture of awe and apprehension. It was quite tall, about two and a half meters, and had two windows on each side. It also had two doors, like the ones of an old-timey cafe.
"Open them" said a voice in the back of her head. Her id, she supposed. The inner animal, slave of impulse and desire, unrestrained by logic and compromise. Usually it was a voice she needed to shut out, especially when it gave her advice regarding Torako. But now, it had a point. There was no way something like this could even exist, let alone be moved silently to her room in a few minutes. Not to mention the fact that no-one else was here and awake. Her parents were out at some champagne-centric shindig (getting blind drunk), her sister was staying at a friend's house, (most likely also getting blind drunk), and her brothers were both sound asleep.
There was no alternative. She was dreaming. In a deeper sleep than normal, perhaps, but dreaming nonetheless. Maybe she was unconscious. Perhaps she was lying lifeless in some hospital bed. Perhaps her parents were not, in fact, having alcohol-fuelled debates about Ninja Warrior and banana chips, but were maintaining a constant bedside vigil, overlooking her with concern. More likely, they were arguing who would foot the hospital bill while her sister asked if she could have Toma's room and her brothers were engaged in a frenzied debate about whether Optimus Prime could defeat Mecha-Godzilla.
She sighed. She supposed her family showed their care via a general lack of caring. She walked over to the box, well, prism technically, and ran a hand along one side. It felt wooden, but strong, warm and powerful. It vibrated slightly with the energy of another world. It felt strange, new and exciting.
If this is a dream, she thought, then I might as well see where it takes me. And without another thought, she thrust open the doors.