It was dark. Eto stood in front of a recently abandoned hotel. The company had gone bankrupt, and another hotel had bought the thirteen story structure. However, the new company was not even going to start renovations for another three years.
It was the Sefuro Hotel. Eto used a piece of loose concrete to break the chains that held the main door shut. The electricity had been shut off, so it was pitch black. She closed the doors behind her. The half ghoul stumbled around in the dark until she found something she decided must be a couch.
She laid down her suitcase and climbed on the couch, and despite the discomforts. The next morning, she awoke stiff from her night on the couch. She glanced at her watch; it was 10:37 in the morning. Eto sat up and yawned, and she examined the empty lobby.
The lobby smelled of all the people that had passed through here. The carpet was in need of replacement. It was a blood red with beige swirly flower designs on it. The walls were a bland white, and the couches and chairs were black. The windows were large, letting the late morning sun warm the room.
Eto decided that she didn't want to spend another night on that uncomfortable couch. She stood up and stretched, then dragged her bag over to the silver elevator and pressed the up button.
She waited for a minute or so, and then remembered there was no electricity.
"Stupid me," she mumbled.
Eto took a mournful look at the stairs and began to drag her bag up them. After seven flights of huffing and puffy, she decided she was high up enough. She rolled her suitcase down the hall and then went into a room on the right. She opened the door and looked at the room.
The hotel had not been abandoned long, so only a fine layer of dust covered everything. The walls were beige with white boards going around where the walls met. A long mirror and a painting of a cherry tree adorned the left wall. Pushed against the left wall was a furnished oak dresser and desk. A block swivel chair was neatly tucked under the desk, which had a pad of paper and pens on it. A television sat on the dresser top, but Eto knew it would not work.
The bed was on the right side of the room, and the sheets were white with a dark brown blanket draped across the center. Two blue accent pillows were propped up nicely. A small nightstand sat next to the bed.
"So," Eto said out loud. "This is where you'll be living for the next nine months."
She forced herself to smile, and then began unpacking. She placed her clothes in the dresser drawers, her personal belongings and writing supplies in the nightstand, and then came to a problem when she went to put away her toiletries.
There was no running water. However, Eto quickly remembered there was a gas station right next to the hotel. It was certainly not the best, but it would do. She stuffed her suitcase into the small closet, and flopped onto the bed.
"What to do, what to do," she said, fiddling with her hands as she stared at the bumpy ceiling. Eto wanted to do something that she enjoyed, but she didn't know what.
She decided to use the same escape she always had— writing. She pulled her pen and a fresh notebook from the nightstand. Eto situated herself comfortably, and began to think of what to write.
She tried to come up with an idea, but all that she could think about was Suzuya. Suddenly, and idea hit her.
"I got it!" she said, and began to sketch the cover. Even though Eto was no real artist, she had a habit of sketching a cover for whatever she was working before actually starting.
She flicked her wrist around, making the sketch a little messy. She drew the powerful wings and the curved talons with rough lines, and went on to sketch the other figure with pure strokes; as graceful as she could. When she was done, she held it as far as she could from her, squinting her eyes to scrutinize her drawing of the two birds.
"The Owl and the Dove," she said proudly.
Eto had decided to write her and Juuzou's story— from her view, of course. But just in case she wanted to publish it someday, she knew she couldn't use everyones' real names. She twirled her pen. What would her name be?
She could use Kyō for owl, and combine in with Sakka for author. Kyosakka. Eto liked it. But what about the last name? Well, she could use Riki for strong, which Eto decided she was. And Hōtai for bandages. Rikihotai. Kyosakka Rikihotai.
"Kyosakka Rikihotai!" Sen giggled. "I like it."
What about Juuzou? Hmmmm, she thought. She could use Hato for dove, and Tantei for investigator. Hatotantei. It was odd, but then again, so was Juuzou. Last name… Tsuyo for brave and Nuime for stitches. Tsuyonuime. Hatotantei Tsuyonuime.
"Kyosakka and Hatotantei," Eto mused out loud. "A tragic love story."
She chucked to herself and began to write. She called Shinohara Okihito, meaning big man. She honestly didn't know what other name to give him; she had not known him well. Eto called Kiniko by the name Araiyatsu, meaning rude guy. Naki became Ureitomo, appropriately meaning sorrowful friend. Unknowing on how to handle nameless Ju San, Eto just gave her a different number.
Eto worked on her book non stop, until she could not see the paper.
"Maybe being in this abandoned hotel," Eto said. "Isn't so bad."
She got comfortable, and then let the sound of the two extra heartbeats sooth her to sleep.