Oh dear, Ayano thought as she crouched low behind the unmade bed listening to the older boy creepily gush to his (Presumably) favorite image of Magical Girl Pretty Miyuki.
She had left school that afternoon with a plan and had arrived at the house with a goal, but she'd never exactly ruled out an ah...arrangement of sorts with Osana-chan's hopeful suitor*.
Although...now that she was here-
"My waifu!~"
The idea of this guy in the same room as Osana actually made her skin crawl.
He doesn't even want her, she thought in fascinated disgust, just her face.
...Cat rescue it is then.
She crept forward to the end of the bed, keeping low to the floor with one soft-soled sneaker clad foot placed carefully in front of the other. He seemed pretty um...absorbed in his nonsensical sweet-nothings whispered to the anime character plastered all over his wall, but, while that was certainly a lot of things, it was no excuse for incaution. After all it was over-confidence that thwarted Odysseus,* and she was no legendary hero.
She peeked around the corner and carefully observed her surroundings. Her first impression was that while his sister's earlier assertion that he never left was almost certainly an exaggeration -he'd managed to find and harass Osana after all- it really wasn't much of one. The room had this pervasive stench of fermented body oils, like an old, unused locker room, and looked to have ambitions toward one of those hoarder intervention shows popular in America.
Except it...it wasn't so much that he...kept things exactly, more like...he couldn't be bothered to throw them out. All of his actual belongings were, in fact, well organized and put away; it was just that the floor was practically a maze of garbage*. Snack wrappers, chip bags, instant food containers, all in varying stages of fullness and decomposition and just lying where he'd dropped them. Not to mention the...assortment...of bottles and cups in multiple sizes, the contents of which Ayano decided were best not investigated too closely.
Heh, she smirked to herself, eyes quickly drawn to the far corner on the other side of the room, luck of the fox after all. Even in this mess, especially in this mess, that cat carrier stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was setting on a low stool with no real obstacles to deter her, except she'd have to squeeze between Hikkikomori (His sister had called him so and so he would be.) and his crinkly, motion activated alarm system to get there. His attention was so fixed to the image of the girl on his wall; though, sighing dreamily and caressing it as if... 'she'...could feel...As long as she was careful and watched her step, she thought she could pull it off.
Carefully, gently, she crept out from behind the bed.
No reaction.
Emboldened, she took a step forward.
He made this...gross...sort of...breathless...sound and rubbed his cheek against the wall.
Satisfied, and more than a little creeped out, she cautiously made her way into the room, sticking to the center of the relatively cleared portion of the floor. It serpentined through the middle of the room and wrapped around to the right past his computer desk and ultimately Hikkikomori himself in a sort of unnecessary scenic route to the opposite corner. Still, it felt safer than trying to tip-toe over the refuse in a more direct attempt with fewer opportunities to wrong-foot herself and alert her unwitting host.
The path itself brought to mind sad and somewhat disturbing images: Hikkikomori shuffling back and forth between his bed and computer...and his precious Otaku-Wall of Miyuki. Watching the series on loop. Printing out new pictures to add to his collection. Subsisting on snacks and instant food stuffs so he'd never have to leave it...
How did he even find Osana-chan? Ayano wondered, stealthily picking her way through the discarded evidence of his unremarkable and, sort of, miserable existence. Did he stumble over her on Kaobook? Discord? How long was he sitting here, staring at her picture next to Magical Girl Pretty Miyuki episodes, comparing her to fanart and screen-grabs before he approached her Shisuta Town? Did he call her 'Miyuki'?
She carefully skirted the computer desk and halted, face to back with Hikkikomori.
Like his sister, he must've been preparing for bed, comfortably dressed in an over-sized white t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants with white running lines up the sides and matching white and blue socks. Although, with his clearly rampant social life, this might just be his every day casual.
Not a constructive thought, perhaps, but where there was snark there was confidence.
Long-ish charcoal gray hair just touched his shoulders, shaggy and greasy, in desperate need of a wash and trim, but still nicely combed and deliberately styled, dancing gently about his profile in a neat little waterfall of steel. Ghostly blue lines spiderwebbed faintly through the back of one milk-pale hand tipped with five even and carefully trimmed nails that gently, reverently, traced the black outline of the anime girl's face. Ayano couldn't help but wonder if this disproportionate attention to his appearance was some kind of Sherlockian personality quirk, or...if he foolishly still thought he could impress Osana.
Enough stalling, she snapped to herself with determined fists and a little nod of encouragement. Onto the hard part.
The space behind him was actually bigger than she'd initially thought, more than big enough to sneak past, but Ayano couldn't seem to help finding this new proximity (She could reach out and dip her fingers into the shallow pool of steel gathered at his nape if she wanted.) to her obviously unwell and unwilling host somewhat...intimidating.
In fact, something sort of...sour and almost cold uncurled in her belly as the reality of this situation really struck for the first time since slipping that note into Osana-chan's locker. Swallowing down the lump rapidly forming in the back of her throat, the school girl turned literal cat burglar managed to identify the sickly sensation as panic, wondering Just what the hell was I thinking?! Breaking into someone's house with no plan, no resources...I-I didn't even wait until the place was empty!
True, she was working with something of a time constraint, but well, surely she could have drug this out for a day or so at least?
Oh, but she'd been so excited by this afternoon's discovery; such a straightforward and simple means to eliminating Osana-chan's threat to her love...It had made her impulsive. Careless. She hadn't taken the time to properly watch the house and assess its inhabitants or to calculate potential outcomes.
Now look at her: literally ankle-deep in enemy territory with no contingencies and everything banking on Plan A working when she knew nothing about this guy -any of these people- really, or what they might be capable o-
A slow, deep breath soothed her suddenly frazzled thoughts and re-steeled her weakened spine as she ordered herself to Get it together! What possible use could she find in lamenting mistakes she'd already made? Especially now, of ALL times, her goal maybe a dozen steps to her left with nothing but a weak-minded, lovesick lunatic around to keep her from just waltzing over and snatching it up?!
And with it, all of Taro Yamada's love.
As usual, such a thought was enough to send her heart spasming into overdrive, leaving her feeling deliciously breathless and flushed with pleasantly liquified insides. Her cheeks felt warm beneath her palms as she rode that fantasy back to wherever she'd dropped her confidence because Osana was going to be grateful. Indebted, in fact, to the soft-spoken and mysterious Heroine of the Back the Row, easily swayed into abandoning her crush by her savior's honest words and gentle pleading. Haaohh, maybe she'll even sing my praises to Senpai!~
...O...kay, so maybe that last one was a little unlikely given the other girl's obvious reluctance to share her situation with even her closest friends, but...eh, still. Securing her cat was as good as securing Taro-senpai's heart. And that was more than reason enough to leave the older boy to his delusions, sauntering right up to his Golden Goose, Hikkikomori none-the-wiser, safely at her back with his mouth pressed lovingly against that stagnant, lifeless smile and murmuring increasingly fanatic and frenzied promises into glossy paper skin.
Ayano stifled a giggle at her completely oblivious host and leaned forward for a quick just-in-case-peak through the carrier's wide-slotted metal door; though, by her estimations, this guy was, frankly, full of it.
Sure he may have found a stressed and frightened Osana to be easily blustered into relative obedience with an unsettling phone call, but Hikkikomori would find his hands were a little more full with Ayano. Far enough removed from the overall situation and lacking any attachment to similarly exploit though emotional intimidation, she didn't believe for a second he'd have laid a finger on his furry little hostage. Not when her owner wore the face of his beloved.
Counterproductive for one thing.
Nonetheless, she wasn't quite prepared to call his bluff. Especially when this whole 'plan' of his reeked so much of both recklessness and desperation. Ugh, he'd already made so many ill-considered and rash decisions with little, or no, concern for their consequences. Case in point: this absurd 'Love Me Or I Will Destroy This Thing You Do Love.' ultimatum approach he'd gone with, which was only ever going to get him as far as a jail cell.
Worse, she vowed silently, if I find out I have to tell Osana-chan I was unable to rescue her cat after all. Whatever happened tonight, tomorrow Ayano would be assuring her rival that her stalker, at least, was no longer a problem.
Such aggressive thoughts, however, were quickly proven unnecessary. Osana's cat confirmed all of the quick assumptions she'd made regarding the oblivious, spineless creature spending his evening alone, licking poster board in his darkened bedroom behind her.
They say, in ancient times, cats were worshiped as gods; they have not forgotten this.'* There was just...something about this moment -that little half-grown ball of fluff staring back at her with an unimpressed expression- making her think of that.
Seated primly at the door of her prison, Osana's cat awaited her rescue with an almost expectant boredom, long bottle-brush tail wound around her in an elegant half-circle, its tip swishing in lazy patterns at her feet as she studied this other-new-face framed in the narrow-checked bars. Round, luminous eyes all aglow, eerily caught the dim computer light and threw it back in this kind of...pink-orangish gleam that just...there was just...something about...about that color in those wide, feline eyes...Something...unsettling, almost familiar, but she couldn't-
She blinked. Deliberate. Measured. Dripping with species-typical indifference as her head dipped and tilted just so, that eerie, reflective sheen fading from her eyes, revealing the natural, striking blue beneath. She raised a paw with (Rather pointed) nonchalance and, giving it a dainty lick, passed her judgement with an ear flicked in Ayano's general direction, "You'll do."
Annnd Ayano just...gave herself a little shake, shrugging off that strange surge of discontent (As well as the sudden, overwhelming urge to stick out her tongue...) and scooped up the adorable. Little...furball, carrier and all, quickly spinning on her heal to head back the way she'd come. The night was young, after all, and she'd still have all of it over which to ruminate and dissect the haunting, if vague, sense of familiar triggered by the warm, sunset hues eerily coloring that wide, luminous stare, and the feelings of...distress it had caused her.
Right now though? It was time to go.
This approaching-the-finish-line urgency...may...have...been her ultimate undoing; adrenalin spiked blood rushing her along, footsteps she'd so cautiously planned and placed with such meticulous care were now roughly considered movements, quickly taken and sloppy with haste.
Or...perhaps...in her own way, flush with victory, a mental track of the Mission Impossible theme song accompanying her every step, mind already spinning the tale to Osana-chan...she too was simply plagued by Odysseus's most famous flaw: her name shouted across the sea in the muffled, crinkly crunch of an unfinished bag of chips crushed beneath her foot...
A nasally, screeching, "Huh?" cut off the low, oily whispers he'd been breathing to his literal centerfold girlfriend as the older boy, suddenly very aware that he was NOT, in fact, alone, whipped around, unwanted guest and unwitting host unexpectedly face to face with neither seeming capable of any action beyond blinking dumbly at the other: Ayano unprepared for a confrontation and Hikkikomori, though he'd, of course, expected it, nonetheless startled by the sight of a stranger in his bedroom.
That, of course, had only briefly delayed him in reading her the standard Intruder Riot Act, his high, wheezing voice demanding and thick with righteous indignation, no doubt rallying around the fact that, regardless of what exactly he been doing, this moment's high ground still belonged to him.
"Who are you?!" he barked, though he hardly waited for answer, ploughing forward in humiliated fury and doing his best to intimidate this invader to his sanctuary, "How did you get in here?!" Oh, but his voice. The way it jumped up an octave on par with his increasing agitation...it did very little for the intended effect.
Not that he had much of audience in Ayano, who wasn't listening and could barely hear him over the sudden roaring of internal conflict. Hikkikomori...he turned...to see an enemy. Ayano...had seen only herself.
She watched the color drain from her own face, familiar gray eyes, wide with terrible recognition, staring back at her in the mirror of a pair of thick lensed glasses perched on the nose of a boy whose thin, gaunt face, corpse pale and only lightly colored by the thick, tired looking bruises circling manic gray eyes, all sharp angles and hollowed cheeks...
It...was like...like looking in a funhouse mirror; the image distorted, grotesque, but...recognizable all the same.
And then...
"Is this about...that girl?!"
...And then...
"We're destined to be together!"
Her own words parroted back at her in that reedy, frenzied voice...
"You can't STOP ME!"
She just...just-she needed to get out of here. Now.
Abruptly cutting off her defeated foe's increasingly...unhinged sounding tirade, Ayano quickly turned and made a rush for the door, crunching right through the biohazardous maze of decomposing food and plastic and splashing about a scientifically fascinating array of liquids in a variety of colors and viscosities as she tripped and kicked over partially drained energy drink cans and the suspicious looking cups in her haste. Stealth was officially a moot point anyway, and she just wanted to leave.
So blinded and sick with her own horrified realizations and panic, she failed to consider the inherent dangers of presenting any enemy with your back as she mounted her abrupt and inelegant escape. But even if she had, she'd long since pegged this guy as a spineless, cowardly, impotent little man without a legal leg to stand on* and hardly worth the trouble of watching out for.
He was, however, both reckless and desperate. ...And currently watching his ONE bargaining chip slip right out from under him.
"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS*!"
The nasally, screeching battle cry was quickly accompanied by thundering, crunchy footsteps as Hikkikomori crashed through his mess after the arrogant little bitch who dared insert herself into his love life, and gave Ayano just enough warning to twist away from the snatch he made for her ponytail. Undeterred by the near miss, however, her angry host latched onto the handle of the cat carrier with his dominant hand, yanking it backwards and bracing his legs to make himself heavy, and continued his...unorthodox apprehension efforts with the other.
Ayano's own grip tightened instinctively, the carrier jerking roughly back and forth between them, as she threw up a hand to ward off his tactless, flailing grabs at her face and hair. He wasn't particularly strong, but what he lacked in power he made up in absolute relentlessness, and, if one of them didn't let up, they were going to hurt the-
"Mrrryowel!"
Tch, that is it.
Head back in the game, Ayano surprised her persistent, desperate foe by abruptly letting go of her side of the carrier; though, not half as much as she did when she surged forward and jammed her knee into his solar plexus.
Gasping and choking on the air forced out of his lungs, the older boy had little choice but to release his own grip and bend double against the sudden blow; the ideal position for Ayano to bring her fist down hard against the base of his skull. Smugly watching as stars exploded behind his eyes and he teetered drunkenly on his feet, she grabbed him by his narrow shoulders and, uh...helped...him to the floor.
Problem number one effectively solved, her attention immediately flew back to the cat carrier lying abandoned, though, thankfully, upright at her feet. That shrill, feline scream still fresh in her mind, she dropped to one knee, momentarily fumbling with the stupid pinch-styled latch, and gently swung the door open to properly check on the creature inside.
The poor, little cat was curled in on herself and cowering, ears flat against her skull as she pressed herself tight against the back wall of the carrier, obviously unhappy but, more importantly, unharmed.
Releasing a quick sigh of relief, and fairly certain she'd just felt her heart re-start, Ayano rose to leave, sparing one final glace for the boy lying unconscious before her, discarded like so much debris in this mess of his own making.
"Tch," she scoffed, and brushed the hair out of her eyes.
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NOTES
So, anyone else see this guy in the demo and think, "Pay attention Ayano, 'cause that's you by week ten!"? ...No? Just me? Houhah, yeah, it's always just me.
*Bold move to include a stalker-rescue side quest in a game about being a stalker, but it does raise the question...well, actually the whole situation raises a lot of questions, but in the interests of keeps the NOTES shorter than the story let's just stick to why we would not just let that play out?
*We're all familiar with The Odyssey, right? At least Odysseus and the cyclops? If not, let me know. Might be fun write up a summary.
*Um, yeah, it's really more like a trail of garbage...But, I mean, if you're gonna go through all the trouble of making a garbage obstacle, you might as well go all out.
*RIP Terry Pratchett. The literary world is much less interesting place without you.
*Hey, Yanderedev said it, though I will admit to mangling the quote a little.
*His voice lines are out of order, but this sequence makes more sense to me.
