Yuri Worlds
[72] Sneak
It wasn’t long before the sun sunk past the trees and mountains, ushering in the cool, whispering presence of evening. The strung, dancing lamps provided flaming flutters of light to push back the night. This location had a sense to it that could easily convince Misaki of spirits, monsters, and all sorts of things that had been hinted at and warned of.
She could imagine spirit beasts with incomprehensible forms and hungry mouths worse than what was contained inside the wristbands just ambling along in search of their next meal of human flesh. The umbrella creatures. The stalking witches. Rattling, emotionless gray cherubs sounding like sand falling against stone. And countless other things she’d forgotten in her preparatory readings. So many reasons for not wandering off alone in the dark.
Did the festival have toilets? That was the one thing she hadn’t thought to check yet as she realized the idle feelings in her body were pushing towards a certain, rumbling urgency.
When she gave voice to this need, wrapping it up as a reaction to some of the spicier items she’d so far sampled, several of her companions immediately went to work, poking their heads up and scanning around for the nearest options. The psychological boost of having everyone look out for her steadied the turbulence inside, even though she knew it was a fleeting remedy.
The discovered options turned out to be a defensive line of portable units still being set up towards the back, far away from the food booths, the place she went during her first chat with Miss Okura, and an old arrangement approaching the line of shacks. Misaki knew which of those options she immediately preferred.
However, the entrance to the community area of the shrine was blocked by piles of equipment still being sorted through. She apologized copiously and had Yuka as her protection to ward off anyone saying she couldn’t go in this direction.
The restroom, as before, was right before the left turn to Miss Okura’s space. All those left turns all right. They didn’t really mean anything, Misaki told herself. It wasn’t like the quantum, physical, and biochemical alignments proposed by the old lady actually translated to literal left and right turns.
That was just her consciousness taking noise and trying to translate it into a pattern, like a form of pareidolia. She knew it probably had a better and more precise name than that wedged somewhere in the heavy tomes of human psychology. Still, she couldn’t deny the fact that weird stuff had happened and was continuing to happen.
Maybe it was all coincidental, but simply dismissing it all as such seemed like a bad idea. She had to find a reasonable point between the worst panic of conspiratorial thoughts that Bianka was trying to overcome and smiling as the world burned. It was not as easy as it sounded.
Misaki took a while to finally feel more like herself. Yuka remained nearby, hopping up on a sturdy, dry portion of the sink counter to wait and chat with quiet distractions while she fiddled with their prizes. The questions ranged from the familiar to the obvious. Favorite games so far? Any plushies she really wanted? Should they actually try for the fish, even though they might be a nuisance? And so forth. Until a lull hit.
Yuka broke the lull by announcing, "When I visit you across the universe divide, I’m gonna do so as a boy. I hope that’s not weird, but it seems like the only opportunity to know what that would be like. I figure what I want won’t be what the travel company wants. They better not slap a wristband on me. Hopefully, things will be different, better, and freer when all the bad things they’ve done come to light. I can wait, but I want to be the best boy for you. Maybe we can work on what I’ll look like next week. I have so many plans for tomorrow and all the days left. I’m not letting a single one go." Misaki lamented that she couldn’t take this beautiful moment and give Yuka the hugs she deserved because she needed to finish up.
But after getting clean, using the hand soap with steaming water, and finally drying, she squeezed the girl she loved into a vibrant and soul-affirming embrace. They wobbled together, soft, firm, flimsy, and solid all at once. When they returned to the half-lit hallway, Yuka restrained Misaki from swiftly hurrying back to the event.
They were alone and mere feet away from the old woman’s office. Yuka didn’t need to do much pitching and proposing about her idea to check in on what things Miss Okura implied and left unsaid. Their phones sufficed for light as they plunged deeper through the left looping hall.
Unfortunately, the door to the old woman’s office space was seemingly locked and secured. With a huff of disappointment, Yuka leaned her shoulder against the door. It shifted with a slight clicking noise. They tested the knob again, but it had no give. However, the lock wasn’t fully engaged. That left wiggle room, but not quite enough to get it open.
Yuka surged with all sorts of scrambling, rambling ideas of a bump key, along with using metal pieces to pick the lock and push it open. Misaki pondered for a moment and dug around to get her train pass. The card was largely metallic and held its shape through the opening. She briefly thought about the legal and ethical concerns of doing this, but the card was already gently shoving the lock aside. After that, the door opened easily.
The interior was black, with the anime version of little whispers of photons and the faintest discoloration from their optic blood vessels. Yuka went first and checked every inch for a camera or a window that might give them away.
Flicking the light on seemed a terrifying prospect, but it was moot as the switch had been locked by a tool in the down position. What they could see of the room was as sparse and reminiscent of a cozy tea room as Misaki remembered. The old, gray computer was in exactly the same spot. They had to dodge around several pillows spread across the floor.
Yuka probed the entire floor space with her phone swinging in all directions. Once she had a good look at everything, no matter how mundane, she started tapping the walls and listening. Not that either of them knew what a suspicious sound was supposed to be.
For Misaki, every tap sounded like screaming out to the world that they were here. She struggled to manage her heart rate. They were about done with that lead when Misaki grazed her foot along the side corner, and a heavy THUNK sound followed. Both of their hearts went into overdrive.
Inspecting the corner carefully, she pressed with her nails and found a narrow seam that allowed her to shove a small section of the wall back. It reminded Misaki of the plastic cover on her mom’s old carrying wagon that cleanly slid in place like a set of toy blocks.
She had no idea if that memory came from the original version of her mom and dad or her two moms. Before proceeding further, Yuka gingerly reversed her actions to see if she could seal the wall space back up as though nothing had happened. It was awkward and pinched her flesh along the side with pain approaching a blister, but she was able to slot it back without a seam showing. Misaki had to help push it further to reveal a hidden space.
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The two of them scanned around the room to make sure they had no unexpected visitors before scrutinizing the opening. It was doubly dark, even with both of their phones shining through.
Impossibly, the search was fruitless for several minutes until Misaki held her breath and poked as much of her head through the opening as possible. Nothing back in the wall but some woven wooden lattices for support. The fragments of plaster smelled awful. She glanced upward and then turned her eyes down towards the ground. Finally, something.
Below the level of the opening was a long, narrow wooden box sitting on the foundation. She had to cough into her hands a few times before attempting to grab at the edge of it. Yuka did her best to nudge it up and out. The box looked like a hardened version of a file folder, and they could both hear the shifting of heavy papers as they tipped it.
It wasn’t especially dusty, though it did have a musty smell. Popping it open, Yuka gently sorted and sifted through the contents. The first layer was deeds, along with some birth certificates, and business contracts. Though Misaki found it difficult to scrutinize everything, nothing contained in the folder looked strange or suspicious.
Just a version of a safe used by a peculiar old woman. Some of the papers were brown with age. Koharu’s marriage papers, birth certificate… And death certificate were all present. Misaki winced and was about to tell Yuka that they needed to put everything back when she paused and brought a particular paper closer.
It had Haruka‘s name on it. Her birth certificate. In addition, several medical papers were included for blood tests and physical examinations. The details were redacted and referenced other documents not present. Yuka also managed to find similar papers for Maharu and the old woman, but she kept returning to Haruka‘s.
“Why does she have my sister‘s birth certificate? What…why…how could she possibly get it? I’ve seen it a few times, along with my own. It looks right. Maybe it’s just for safekeeping? But what’s all this doctor stuff? Do my moms know that she has all this? This is crazy!“
The kindest theory that Yuka could spin was that the old woman was stealing identities for criminal activity or sale on the black market. No other prospects made the least amount of sense. From between some heavy business documents, a tiny key plopped on the table. Yuka marveled at it with her mouth hanging open and had to remember to breathe.
Nothing that they found suggested a lock or a spot to insert a key. Looking around in the immediate area also revealed no suspects for where to stick it. Several phone camera snaps of the most suspicious documents flashed the room like rogue lightning with surely blurry results, but that was the best they could do.
Yuka meticulously and gently shuffled all the papers together and restored everything as they had found it. Once the wall cover snapped back with no seam showing, Yuka slumped on the floor and gave a deep puff of air. In the pinging silence that followed, both girls heard steady footsteps from far away.
Launching herself at the door, Yuka moved to close it but was met by unyielding resistance. The lock refused to slot into place. She hissed a curse with every gasp of breath. Misaki attempted to use her train pass again, but it refused to push down, no matter how much leverage they applied. The footsteps sounded like they were coming from all directions. Only one option remained.
They both slipped through to the other side of the door, and Yuka gave it one last tug and wiggle of the knob to see if she could at least wedge it back to the halfway point they originally found it at. No such luck. And nothing they had with them could quite prop it closed enough. Yuka strained and kicked her foot against the wall for a little more strength as Misaki braced her. Miraculously, the lock wedged itself back into the little groove it started in.
It would have to be good enough. Scrambling together with their held breaths burning in their lungs, they snuck into the small restroom before the footsteps overwhelmed them.
Once inside, Yuka slammed the light switch down with a fist. They hustled into the nearest stall. Mercifully, the fringe at the bottom wasn’t an exposed highwater like every bathroom stall back home. Just a tiny sliver was left above the tile. Still, it seemed like a good idea to try standing on the toilet. Too cramped though.
They listened carefully and patiently to figure out what was happening beyond the door. Aside from the pipes making low, ominous noises, the building was silent. They picked up the noise of footsteps again, just around the corner from the restroom door.
Not heavy footfalls, but more patient, plodding, and methodical. Misaki thought she may have heard some faint whistling but couldn’t rule out the pipes again. They squeezed against each other and did their best not to breathe.
The floor vibrated right in front of the restroom door. Someone or something reached out to rattle the knob. It clicked and shifted, with a questioning squeak radiating out into the room. Misaki realized this was silly. They had every right to be in this bathroom without suspicion. What were they hiding for? Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything or even clear her throat.
A fresh cough wanted to fight its way out of her mouth, but she swallowed it back down. The door remained open for several seconds before the light switch clicked on. No sound came from the door except for an anonymous, careful breath. The presence of whoever was there didn’t feel familiar, nor did it feel menacing. A hot tingling invaded Misaki‘s head with a deeper, more constant tone than any ringing in her ears.
Eventually, the light flipped back off and the door shut. However, another sound issued from down the hall with that left curve around the wall. Yuka knew what it was immediately. The tenuous balancing act of yanking that stubborn lock in place had been disturbed, and the other door popped loose. That drew the footsteps advancing towards it swiftly. When they pushed at the now likely open door, Yuka desperately whispered in Misaki’s ear, "Go now. We have to go."
They untangled themselves from one another, clung to their phones and everything they had put away in their traditional clothes, and furiously soft shuffled against the tile until they had the door and a way out. Swinging it open made way too much noise, but there was nothing they could do about that.
Once clear in the hallway, they bolted towards the main area. The footsteps sounded like they were starting back towards them, but they made it to a side door and out before they could get close.
Catching their breath on the stone tile, the two girls exchanged a glance. Back to the group like nothing happened. But something had happened—something that clearly rattled Yuka as Misaki did her best to comfort her. Her sister and the girl who called her mommy. Something was going on with them and perhaps this entire community. The company clearly had secrets, but they weren’t alone.