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[8] Yuri Worlds 8 – Contact

[8] Yuri Worlds 8 – Contact

Yuri Worlds

[8] Contact

The Sasaki house was a deep shade of tan, with extra protective overhangs sheltering the top of each window. Separate, small air-conditioning units sat on lower roof sections. Each part of the roof had heavy black tiles and artistic swoops that Misaki expected. The style looked distinctively 1980s, although she had no idea if that feeling translated to this world. A ring of paneling surrounded the lowest area, like a decorative wood skirt. A bulky black van, like some remnant of an old television show, was parked in the small driveway in front of a modest garage. What especially stood out to Misaki, though, was the presence of a second building behind the house.

That one was exactly everything she expected from traditional Japanese architecture. It had ornate roofs that felt more like armor. Small, rounded ornamentation rose from the high points. The unfortunate thing was how much black weathering discolored the bright wood, along with missing sections and covered windows. She couldn’t help but ask about it.

Yuka explained, “That’s an old hotel that’s been in our family for generations. We’re hoping to remodel it and bring it back to the splendor it once knew. It’s a slow process, but maybe when you return one day, you’ll be able to enjoy our full accommodations. Please look forward to that!”

She guided them to the front door, opening it outward and urging them in. Misaki knew what to expect right inside. There was a small recessed area with shoes and slippers. This kind of thing made regular appearances in animes. Dwight tended to refer to it as a mud room. Even Yasha took off her shoes without complaint. In slippers, they followed Yuka over to the right and up some steps along a very snug staircase. Namiko mounted them with rising confidence.

Just to the left after the stairs, Misaki noticed a sliding door juxtaposed with a regular one. Carefully sliding open the door, Yuka proudly presented a traditional room with several tatami mats laid out with just a little gap on the end towards the window. The interior had everything that they would’ve expected from a trip across the world. A boxy light fixture above cast a warm, almost candlelit glow, even though it was clearly an LED bulb inside. Shoji doors framed the setting, along with sliding closet doors on the side. A traditional tea setup prominently occupied the center of the room, with a heated table to one side and a careful pile of futons on the other.

Yuka gushed about how they serve breakfast here with afternoon tea later and added, “This is such a comfortable room for sleeping. You can really stretch out when you’re relaxing. That’s option one.”

Leading them back over, she opened the door to the other room. It was a smaller space, but it still managed to hold four smaller beds delicately positioned. They weren’t far removed from the kind of beds that Misaki was used to, but they had to be even smaller than twins. Granted, they had also shrunk in size. Yuka relayed that this was option two. Yasha dropped her stuff and leaned back on the nearest bed to the right before Yuka could really delve into the virtues of each.

She soon sheepishly withdrew her elaboration and explained, “I’m going to make sure my moms know that our guests have arrived. They might be out, but they should be returning soon, and I know they would love to greet you all.”

Misaki chimed in to ask if she needed any help with putting away the groceries, but Yuka swiftly waved her hand and assured her it was fine.

Soon, it was just them. Immediately, it felt like an intangible breath being held amongst the three of them was finally released. Namiko went all out, cradling and gripping her massive breasts. Chika shifted that pink half-dress and wrestled with the frail structure of the pants while carefully extracting a horror movie hair of damp purple from her mouth. Meanwhile, Misaki did a cursory readjustment of her chest, which she hoped didn’t seem lewd. Just being in such close contact with anime girl breasts felt so bizarre. They were a part of her body yet strikingly foreign, more like the laughable addition of a costume, and she just needed to peek underneath to find her real self.

Yasha scooted up in bed with her arms and lifted her head before asking, “So, what are the three of you here for anyway? Want to get laid? Next-level weebs? Dealing with body bullshit? Paid?”

Something of that breath squeezed back inside but also became a huff of consternation. Chika sharpened her words like a whip crack and tersely asserted that Travel Anywhere collaborated with her media LLC to celebrate the virtues and diverse qualities of this world.

“Another damn Influencer. I don’t know why they bother. I could shit out whatever puff piece they want in ten minutes. Just spray it with punch-ins and jump cuts and cover with grammatically defunct white meme text and a pop song to make Tiktok cream themselves. Am I far off the mark?”

Chika wasted no time in retorting, “Very far. I do my own thing. And we’re just here to have a pleasant vacation from the familiar. Why are you here?”

The blonde settled down against the pillow. “I told you, it’s delightfully delicious here. Common, but interesting. I’m just around to have a little fun. Don’t worry. I’m not staying long. I’ll fuck off before you know it and leave you all to do whatever… and whoever the hell you want. I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse until then. I even promise to sleep over in the other room. Maybe you’ll even end up joining me. That shit is comfortable as hell.”

Her last words hung in the air without additional commentary as the others properly started to set out their travel bags and begin unpacking everything. Chika breathed a sigh of relief as she laid out her camera equipment and other recording devices and discovered that not only were some versions of all the normal batteries and data cards present, but the electrical plugs and other attachments had been subtly modified to match the slimmer designs in the wall. The cabinet by the window provided plenty of space for all the extra stuff that could be comfortably stashed.

Misaki caught the insistent cry of a bird somewhere just beyond the window in the trees. All those were female too. Did they bother with mating dances? Were there fights for partners? When eggs somehow emerged, who stayed on the nest? Birds alone probably had enough going on to keep curious people occupied for decades. She wanted to follow up this thought with an even better one while emptying her bags. But her declining energy latched on to the familiar, soft presence of the bed. Time to take a nap, her body commanded.

It was monumentally weird to sit there and think about boobs on such a personal level. They not only didn’t go away, but they clung and pressed from every angle. And it was more than just a passive, transitory presence; instead, it was like a persistent, thought-consuming companion. Before Misaki found a particular angle at which to nap, a light but persistent rap came at the door, followed by words.

“Excuse me. May I…enter?” The voice didn’t sound anything like Yuka's. It rose sharper but also dwindled softer. Like someone starting out with an effort at authority, but that resolution swiftly faded and depleted their speech. Chika was the first to urge this new girl to enter. Namiko nearly went over to open the door herself. Yasha sprawled back, and Misaki sat up.

The girl who stepped through the door did so with such a light presence that it almost seemed the air was left undisturbed behind and around her. She squeezed her arms against her hips and fluidly bowed her head to everyone.

"Welcome. I am the eldest Sasaki daughter, Sasaki Haruka. Welcome to our home.…Cool? I mean…My little sister should be back in just a little while. Our moms were trading for some daikon radishes with a neighboring farmer. Do any of you have allergies to eggs? The papers they sent ahead didn’t specify. Or any other allergies. I can pass it along. I have a slight allergy to buckwheat. But it’s for lunch—a late lunch—and it’s going to be these big, everything-cooked-together omelettes. It’s a Southern thing. Is that…cool?"

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Misaki felt convinced there had to be some form of automatic translation going on. The older Sasaki sister was likely describing okonomiyaki. She also figured that “Southern” wasn’t something like the southern states back home or Mexico, if either of them existed. But was it like any equivalent from their world?

This Haruka stood slightly taller than any of them. Her hair was a bright, practically colorless white in front, with patches towards the back and the sides reminiscent of snow softly melting. Her eyes were a breathtaking, etheric shade of blue, sharper than Dwight’s original set. They made Misaki think of precious gemstones submerged in still, crystalline waters. Her face was strikingly narrow, but without a sharp chin. Yuka had a much more rounded presence while not appearing too childish or chubby. Her clothes were starkly simple, with a fluffy, pristine top that matched her hair and a black, pleated skirt that fluttered across her legs. Aspects of the outfit, aside from the fact that Misaki wore pants, casually reminded her of what she had been placed in. Furthermore, her hair practically seemed like a color-inverted version of what she had.

Perhaps those were silly, surface details to focus on, but it did leave Misaki with the vague, unsubstantiated notion she reminded Yuka of her sister. She suspected she was probably far off the mark. In contrast, Haruka had gorgeous, painted nails practically the same shade as her eyes, along with a dainty, jeweled, actually pleasant wristband wrapped in a deeper color tone. Not that she was trying to compare, but Misaki got the impression that the two of them fell pretty close when it came to the chest.

The older sister had a more subdued reaction to them. No “wowser” outbursts; however, it was obvious when she first noticed Namiko’s ‘presence’. Her eyes got exceptionally large, and she desperately avoided looking over there. She appeared quite curious about Chika or her production equipment. None of them had any allergies worth mentioning, at least before all this happened, and none of the documentation relayed the addition of new ones. Misaki inquired about various rooms and whether any were off-limits.

Haruka explained that all the bathrooms were set up for them, and the rooms downstairs were fine. Just ask permission when it comes to the other bedrooms upstairs. That made sense. She also added that the adjacent hotel had some rickety sections that were still being fixed, so they were advised not to explore it by themselves. She also told them, “It’s kind of creepy. Especially at night.”

They could all tell that the girl desperately wanted to retreat back through the door she entered, but she had one final note to express, asking, “Did any of you bring along pets? A dog? When I was coming upstairs, I noticed this really quick thing dashing through the hallway. It was close to the ground with this big poof of black fur.” Misaki didn’t need to hear much more than that to realize Haruka was referring to the strange spirit thing she had been seeing for the past day. Haruka could see it too?

The older sister drew in a short breath through her dainty nose, which appeared as insubstantial as a simple pencil mark from certain angles. She quickly brushed her hair back and assured them that it was probably just a trick of the light, mentioning that they had done all sorts of cleansing rituals before anyone arrived and even offered appeasing gifts to the traditional spirits, especially the kindly house helpers talked about in local folklore.

That was all the elaboration the young girl offered before craning an ear and conjuring up the notion that she heard an urgent call from one of her mothers. No one else heard anything. Misaki had to resist a spontaneous chuckle she felt from witnessing this anime girl do less of a majestic receding through the bushes type retreat and more of an antsy crab walk over to and out the door.

Moments later, Namiko raised a finger and then frowned, mentioning to the others, “I should’ve asked her if it’s okay to walk around. I wanna see more stuff.” Misaki felt that invisible, weighted blanket of consuming tiredness start to slip back over her with the reminder that this was still a bed she was perched on. She did her best to shake it off and think about all the things they could see together. Despite being rural, the region had so many interesting attractions. Chika fussed with her digital camera and grumbled over the fact that the battery had been mysteriously drained since she charged it overnight. Blaming TA seemed like a solid notion.

She motioned to check her phone battery and give it some nourishing assistance where needed when her ringtone suddenly went off with the announcement of a call coming through. Chika straightened up, her phone held at arm’s length, as though it had suddenly changed into something else. She glanced around at the others. Even Yasha looked over with rigid scrutiny, devoid of a sneer or any other mocking traits.

Turning the phone around quickly, no number was shown in the drop-down Notification, just the words “UNKNOWN CALLER”. Chika bounced her brown eyes between them as though it were a ball served back and forth. One of the things that the documentation the company gave them clarified was that while the modified versions of their phones would work with the networks and mobile data provided locally, phone calls would be blocked as extreme roaming to prevent carrier charges. Misaki could only imagine that it had to be a direct communication from the company itself since only they would have access. Expressing this to Chika, she swiftly drew the phone closer and selected to answer.

Silence followed for several uncomfortable moments. Spam and robot calls had trained Franklin to respond not with words but with careful throat clearings and patience to wait out any artificial answers. She didn’t bother with any of that, immediately asking, “Hello… hello? Who is this?“ The words were phrased firmly and clearly against the receiver.

Misaki strained against the silence of the room to hear something from the speaker. The subtle hint of a car driving over gravel carried to her ear, along with the suggestion of cicadas. Not a bold and unmistakable cry. More birds joined the subdued symphony, punctuated by a chicken clucking in the distance. And still silence from the phone.

Usually, most calls terminated in about a dozen seconds without any sound on the line. This one continued for several multitudes of that as Chika begged whoever was on the other end to speak up. At the point of mind-numbing frustration, a voice finally broke through. A woman’s voice without any distinctive qualities.

“Be careful…”

That was all that was said before the call ended. Instantly, Chika swiped over to the phone options. She growled as deeply as she could over the absence of any information on the logged call. No designation of spam, no expanded details, and no number listed at all on the painterly screen. Unknown contact, unknown number, unknown details. Even the contact date was missing. She motioned to slam the phone against the bed but resisted the urge since it hadn’t done anything wrong.

They puzzled over all this amongst themselves. Yasha didn’t contribute anything, but Misaki noticed that she looked more flustered than she’d been the entire time they’d known her. She had no idea what that meant, if anything.