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[Nanowrimo] Weave the Stars

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Alfred F. Jones: Weave the Stars a Touhou Project fanfic for National Novel Writing Month 2012 Yes, it's a new story from me for NaNoWriMo! Not much time left for me right now so I'll just throw this up and run and worry about silly things like proper formatting and organization later. Prologue When I was a child, and it was festival time, my mother would carry me around on her shoulders, and I would hold on to her head, looking out above the crowd with the stars shining up above us. ?Are you enjoying the view up there?? She would ask. I would nod. ?Yeah! The stars are so pretty tonight!? She'd laugh at that one. After a while she would set me down on the ground and I would walk by her side, holding her hand. It was one of the few times of the year I could wear a yukata, so I relished it. My yukata was so pretty! It was decorated with small birds-- magpies, mama told me. It was so soft. Mama had made it herself. She was a very talented seamstress. She taught me everything I knew. We would go around the festival, and I would play the festival games and eat the food. Mama would help me out with the goldfish-catching game if I had trouble, because I was very young back then. I would ask for taiyaki and walk around with a small bag. I ate the head first, then the tail. Then my papa would join us. I didn't get to see him very often. He had shown up earlier that day, and my mama had rushed into his arms and they had embraced. He had things to do, but he would always go to the festival with us. Papa would ruffle my hair and laugh. ?Have you been a good little girl this year?? ?Yeah!? I would show him my goldfish. ?Want it?? He would laugh. ?Thank you, but I think it'd be better if you took care of it. I don't have a fish tank where I work. So would you be a good little girl and take care of it for me instead?? ?Sure!? And he would kiss my forehead and smile. Then he would take my mother's hand and they would both bid me good night. This was the routine we'd worked out over several festivals like this one: I would spend the evening alone, and mama would come back in the morning. I didn't know where they went, and it never occurred to me to ask. I just smiled and promised I would stay safe, then I would find myself a nice hill from which to view the fireworks as my parents left. And so it was over many such festivals. I would bid farewell to them, and return to the house, climb up the three stories to the terrace, pull back the curtain that served as a cloth roof over the framework, and sit down with a glass of juice to watch the fireworks in the sky. I was alone beneath the shooting stars, watching them go by, and it was one of the happiest times in my life.

Alfred F. Jones: This, on the other hand, was the furthest thing from a happy time. She awoke from sleep several times. Each time she looked at the clock next to her bead and shook her head. She hadn't had enough hours to sleep. Back to bed until she got a full nine hours. She got up at nine. She figured that eight hours was okay. She needed to get productive, anyway. She pulled up the covers and after a few moments of wrinkling her nose, she sneezed. It was summer, so she didn't sleep with a shirt on, but she figured that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if it kept away a summer cold. She grabbed a shirt as she got up. She also grabbed her socks from where they had slipped off during the night. Her western-style mattress was so warm. She almost wanted to go back to bed, but in the end decided against it. She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway. And besides, she had something to do that day. She tended her bed, pulling over the sheets and the blankets on top and smoothed it out. She loved sleeping in warm places, so her bed still had a blanket even though it was summer. It was the price to be paid if she refused to sleep in a shirt. Some childhood habits died hard. She rubbed her eyes, and wondered what she would do first: shower or breakfast. Normally she would eat breakfast first, but she was already starting to feel anxious about the day and wasn't entirely sure she should eat, just in case she got too jittery. So she hopped into the shower instead. She came out in a bathrobe and sat down at her table. She had remembered to take out the books she would need before going to bed. She picked one of them up. ?How to deal with social anxieties.? Another. ?How to be confident when looking for a job.? ?Oh, right. I was doing that today.? A frown came onto her face and she laid her head on the table with a small groan. ?.... why am I doing this again?? She was hungry, but she was also afraid of getting too nervous today. She compromised by eating an orange, peeling it slowly. The motion made her feel better. She sighed and moved on to her next task. She wanted her sample clothes to be perfect for the interview. So last night, she had hung them up, and now she went to retrieve them. She pulled down the apartment's built-in ironing board and got to work. She made sure that the heat setting wasn't too harsh so it wouldn't hurt the delicate fabrics. Across the room, she had the mirror in the wall. She split her attention between her clothes and her reflection. ?All right. Pretend you're asking for a job.? She took a breath. ?You can do this. You can do this. You've been practicing your Japanese and you're finally learning to get rid of your accent, and they won't make you write with complex kanji. You've got this. You'll be fine.? A nervous smile and laugh. ?Your clothes are fantastic. After seeing those, no one could turn you down.? Except the last four designers' agencies she'd been to. But anyway. Another nervous laugh. ?Well, they didn't have good taste, plainly. You, on the other hand, are a creative genius! That's right, once they see how much work you've put into these, you'll get hired on the spot!? She ironed her clothes smooth, gentle and thorough in her work. She set them down on her bed and folded them, meticulous, making sure that no unwanted creases would show up near the sleeves or the bends. Then she set them down on top of each other in the canvas bag she would be carrying around that day. She looked at the clock. Ten in the morning. She had time for tea. Tea would calm her nerves. Her arms were shaking as she sipped her raspberry tea some minutes later. ?Why am I doing this? I'm so screwed. I...? She glanced at the canvas bag of clothes she had set apart, and sighed. ?Damn it.? She couldn't bring herself to swallow any more food, so she decided to cut her losses and just head out already. The more time she gave herself to get there, the easier it would be to dodge crowds. Crowds. The mere mention of the word made her start to feel queasy. She dragged herself to the bathroom, this time to retrieve hair gel and a brush. A few minutes later she grabbed a headband and slipped it on. She stood in front of the mirror for a bit. She looked at herself in the mirror, then went up to it and grabbed it by the frames, an intense look in her eyes. ?You can do this! Believe in me who believes in you, and all that kinda stuff! If I believe in you, and you believe in me, that's like you believing in yourself, right? So believe in me! You'll definitely get this today!? She took a deep breath and set the mirror back down. ?... all right. Let's do this.? She took her canvas bag, and pulled a sun hat off her hat rack just in case. Then she walked up to her door, pulled on her outdoor shoes, bid her room goodbye for the morning, and took the elevator down. The elevator was mercifully silent. Not like what she'd be facing outside, she knew that. As the elevator made it to the ground floor and the doors slid open, she put a hand on her heart to calm it, then took a deep breath and left the apartment complex behind. ?... it's earlier in the morning so it's less crowded? Give me a break. You live in the city now.? She sighed and looked out at the already bustling crowds, feeling more anxious with each passing moment. For half a second she considered retreating to her apartment, but... ugh, no. It wasn't going to get any easier at any point during the day, so she might as well do it sooner rather than later so she could at least spend the afternoon recharging in quiet peace in her apartment. So with her stomach churning, she put on her sun hat, pulled it down over her eyes, and joined the crowd headed for the trains. She looked down the entire time until she actually climbed on board a train. As was expected for the city, the train was packed, but somehow she still managed to get some breathing room anyway by squeezing into a corner. She clutched her canvas bag tightly with both hands, looking down into it and hoping the clothes inside wouldn't get too wrinkled from the trip. She let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding and sank down a little, glad for the space. Crowds always made her feel so anxious. She'd never been good at dealing with them, but whatever anxiety disorder she had had only gotten worse now that she'd moved so far from home to this city that she felt so out of place in. Her daily question popped into her head again. If she was so uncomfortable here, then why did she come in the first place? Because... She looked down at the clothes in her canvas bag. Because I have talent for this, and I want to be able to put it a good use the way I can't back where I lived. She took a breath and then noticed the announcement on the train. Her stop was the next one. She'd spaced out too long-- no, she'd come back just in time. Was she finally getting a stroke of luck? She hoped it would hold until the interview. She got off the train at the next platform and looked up at the signs. She didn't need to; she had already been here twice before, then chickened out both times and fled back to her apartment or another quiet place. This time she wouldn't back down. She took a breath and tried to imitate the confident stride of an action hero as she walked in the direction of the agency. She received some strange stares from onlookers for her trouble, but it made her feel better. Still, it was really embarrassing... and it made her heart race all over again as the agency came into sight. This particular idol agency was not far from the station. Luck was on her side yet again. But there was a crowd between her and the front doors. Bad luck. She wished she had packed a water bottle into her purse or her bag so she could splash it on her face and calm herself back down, but she had been too nervous to remember it this morning. Oh well, she'd just have to make do. She could do this! Feeling her heart pounding in her ears, she pushed her way through the crowd, feeling more and more sick with every person that brushed past her. She was starting to feel almost queasy by the time she made it across, to the front doors. She opened the doors and found herself looking down a hallway. It seemed that the agency was further inside, located inside a small plaza. Oh, wonderful, she'd never noticed this. Her heart raced. There were only a few people milling around in the plaza, but seeing how close she was, this felt more like she was marching to her own funeral than to a job interview. She began to feel the stirrings of that particular dread: the dread of being on the spot and under the scrutiny of an interviewer. She knew what would go wrong. They'd ask her to write something in kanji and she'd have to write it out in hiragana like a grade-schooler. They'd ask her where or what city she came from and she'd have to answer that she wasn't from here at all. They'd ask her what experience she had and she would have to say that she didn't have any. Sweat broke out on her forehead when she reached the proper front doors of the agency and nervously pulled, not pushed her way in. At least she had made it in time. She stood inside the reception area for a few moments, looking around. The d?cor was pretty bland, actually. If it had been her designing this, she would have added some splashes of purple, give it a touch of whimsy. If she had really had her way, there would have been frills on the walls... ?Can I help you?? The receptionist asked. The young woman blinked and returned to reality, feeling her heart begin to race all over again. ?Y-yes. I'm here for an a-appointment.? She was stammering. Wonderful. She looked down at her shaking arms and tried to will herself to calm down, but couldn't. ?Do... you have a name?? ?A name?? Her heart leaped into her throat. ?Y... yes. A name for the appointment.? The receptionist gave her a skeptical look. And who could blame her? She'd look at herself skeptically too if that was her. ?S... Sai... hoshi. Saihoshi.? ?Sai-hoshi?? The receptionist raised an eyebrow. ?What kanji is that spelled with?? Kanji. It was just like out of her nightmares. She felt her mouth go dry. ?It's s-spelled with the characters for 'festival' and 's-star',? she replied, stammering like an idiot. Damn it, why was she stammering? Right now, when she needed all the confidence she could get! ?Huh, really?? The receptionist looked at her computer. ?You sure it's pronounced like that?? ?E-eh?? ?Well, I'm a bit fuzzy on my kanji myself, that was never my best subject... but would that be pronounced as 'sai-boshi' instead? Conjugations are weird sometimes.? She willed herself not to cry. ?T-that's the way I always heard it from my parents, though...? ?Hm.? The receptionist wrote something down. ?You sure it's not written this way instead?? She held up a notepad for her to look at. It was also pronounced ?saihoushi?, but with different kanji. She felt her vision swim as she looked at three characters more complex than she could dream of understanding. Kanji was one of her weakest areas. She wished she had learned it as a kid instead of having to try now that she was an adult. ?I'm... pretty sure I've never seen that before,? she replied, shaking her head. ?Huh, and it'd be perfect if it were the kanji for your name,? the receptionist replied, taking back the notepad and looking at it. ?Means 'seamstress'.? A buzzer on the desk went off. The receptionist dropped what she was doing to respond to it. ?Yeah, your appointment's here. Saibo... Saihoushi, she said. Send 'er in?? ?Send her in.? ?Right then.? The receptionist turned off the machine and waved her further in. ?Down the hall, to your left, down that hall to the right, and first door on the left then.? ?T-thanks,? she replied, To the left, then to the right, then to the left again. She carried her canvas bag in one hand and held the other one in a fist over her heart as she walked down the hall. She knocked on the door and was surprised to find it already ajar. There was a man at the desk there. ?Come in, come in.? She entered. She temporarily forgot how formal she needed to be. How formal did you need to be in this kind of situation again? Ugh, it was so much easier back home... After a moment of thinking it over, she gave him a self-conscious forty-five degree bow and hoped that was enough. She looked up and saw his mouth pressed into a thin line and felt her heart nearly stop. She hadn't been formal enough, had she? Or was she just seeing things and being too nervous? ?Sit down, Saihoushi-san,? he said after a moment, and she froze in place until the message broke through to her. ?S-sit down. Yes.? She sat down in a hurry, wincing inside. Why did she have to be so awkward with people like this? Her heart was starting to race again. ?So, you wanted to become one of the designers for our agency's idols' clothing,? he said, looking down at a paper on his desk. She nodded vigorously. ?Well...? He looked further down the page. ?Hm.... you've never done this before?? She shook her head, feeling her hands start to shake too. ?N-no, not professionally.? ?You don't even have a technical degree....? She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had to get out something that sounded like she was less incompetent than she looked. After a few anxious moments of floundering, wondering what she could say, she stammered: ?N-no, I don't, but I brought, um... I brought samples with me, i-if that would work...? He looked at her, made eye contact. She felt like hiding in her chair from his gaze. Was he angry? Oh gods, he was, wasn't he? She was just wasting his time. Why was she even bothering him? Why was she bothering to be here or say anything? ?May I see your samples, then?? She flinched, feeling her stomach doing somersaults. She leaned over, hauled the canvas bag onto the desk, and cringed in her chair as he stood up for a moment to see the clothes she had made. He raised the clothes up to the light and set them down with no regard for the folding. She cowered. The look in his eyes didn't look at all like he was impressed. He lifted up a red-and-white garment and frowned. ?The quality of the material is good, I must say...? She winced. That sentence trailed off into an implied rebuke. ?But...? Blood pounded in her ears as she closed her eyes, waiting for the blow of his criticism. ?The fashion of them is... how to say this nicely...? He set down the robe. ?Lacking.? She felt sick to her stomach. ?It's not bad, don't get me wrong. But the designs are... not trendy right now. No one wears clothes like this.? This was pointless. She wasn't going to succeed here and she knew that from the moment she stepped out of the train, so why hadn't she just turned around and gone home? She felt like she was going to vomit. ?Um... Saihoushi-san? Are you all right?? Her mouth was freezing up as she felt him looking down at her. Why couldn't she be better at expressing herself? Why couldn't she have been born here so she wouldn't feel so out of place all the time? Why couldn't-- Panic took over, and in a single swift move, she shoved the clothes back into her canvas bag and dashed out of the room, cursing herself all the way. ?Damn it! Damn it! Why am I--? But she wasn't stopping. Not for the interviewer, not for the surprised receptionist, not for any of that. She didn't stop running until she had gotten back out of the plaza and past the doors and onto the street. She saw what was before her and felt her vision swim. The crowds had just gotten thicker while she was in there. She wanted to cry in frustration. She needed a refuge where she could be left alone in silence to recover, and there was nothing like that here. She dry heaved for a moment, then held back her tears as she pushed through the crowd, heedless of the cries of annoyance and irritation as she shoved through the crowd, bumping into people all around. She was unfortunate enough to arrive at the train station just as another huge crowd was exiting the doors. The crowd rushed her, and she lost any remaining cool she had. She turned and fled. She kept moving until she found herself collapsed, her knees raised to her chest, feeling her frenzied nerves finally begin to calm. ?God damn,? she muttered to herself, facepalming. ?That was awful.? Then she felt water sprinkling on her face. She blinked and looked up. More water came. ?Bluh?? she wiped her face clean. A face peered over the hedge of green. ?O-oh, my apologies,? the young girl said. ?I was just watering the plants, here...? The wannabe designer looked up a bit more. She had found refuge sitting on the sidewalk next to a flower shop. ?Are you okay?? The girl asked. ?Yeah. Fine, fine. Thanks for the water, I guess.? It felt oddly refreshing and helped steady her heart rate again. The reduced crowd around here didn't hurt, either. ?Uh... you're welcome?? But she was already walking away from the flower shop. She wondered if she was going to try to get on the train or try to walk home. On the one hand, getting on the train sounded awful. She'd have to walk through another crowd and then hope that she wouldn't panic while being pressed on all sides. But the idea of walking through many more crowds on her way home was worse, especially since she was very far from her apartment right now... Taking a moment to breathe in and out and try to calm herself, she made her way back to the station. She paid her fare and got on the train and focused on any background music she could. Soon she would be sure to get a new music player to replace her old broken one. It helped her get through crowds. When she staggered off at her stop and pushed through the crowd to her apartment, she fumbled for the key to the doors-- And then her heart stopped. Her canvas bag of clothes was gone.

Alfred F. Jones: She froze for a moment, legs trembling, then they gave out on her and she collapsed, dry heaving. Thankfully she had managed to eat so little that morning that she wasn't throwing anything up. Shaking, her hands found the key in her pocket, and she managed to pull herself into the safety of the quiet apartment building, ignoring the stares that were surely turning to her now. Feeling her eyes tearing up at the realization that she had lost her star designs somewhere in the crowds, she cowered in front of the elevator until it came down to the ground floor for her, then hid behind the controls as she ordered it to take her up to her floor. She had never before been so grateful to not encounter other people on her way up in this apartment complex. Her hands shaking as she entered her apartment, she locked the door behind her, threw her sun hat at the wall,  and collapsed sobbing onto her bed, curling up as she hugged her pillow. She wished she had had the foresight to bring her plushies from home, to hell with those excuses about them not fitting in her luggage.... I could really use a warm hug right about now... Everything. All the work of the past two months, gone. Her only hope was that someone would find the bag and find the cards inside, the cards she had made for herself back when she was still the na?ve newcomer to the city, when she had thought she would be able to flash her card and receive gasps of surprise-- She continued to stay curled up on her bed, with its design of birds flying among the stars on it, now wrinkled and in need of re-mending, cursing her stupidity at coming here, cursing her luck for not being able to fit in, cursing her fate that had led her here. On some level she knew she still had better here than she did back home, but that didn't do anything to soothe the hole of loneliness in her heart. And it didn't do anything to ease the hurt of her abject failure to make anything of herself on her own. And with her luck, the only thing that would happen with her bag of clothes would be that someone would find them, laugh at them, then submit them to a variety show, where the host would pull them out one by one to the sound of laughter all over Japan, and she would be ridiculed the nation over, a pariah in the fashion world forever. No, there was no way that she was blowing things out of proportion. ?I never should have come here... there's nothing for me here. Why did I bother?? She couldn't quite hear herself that clearly thanks to talking to herself through her sobs, but she knew what she was saying anyway, and besides, no one was listening. No one was by her side. After an unknown span of time passed, she realized she was hungry. She flopped on her bed, still unwilling to go anywhere or do anything. She wanted to let herself be miserable, damn it. Why did the world insist on dragging her out of her dark corner of refuge and refuse to leave her be? Her gaze strayed over the goldfish tank she kept in the corner. She groaned. She'd feed her fish later. At least they'd be quiet until then. Ugh. This day was turning out about as horribly as she thought it would. Those self-help books and confidence-boosting techniques she'd learned from them hadn't helped at all. Not when she'd needed them most. She'd return them to the library later... ugh, no. Maybe tomorrow. What did she have in the fridge to tide herself over until tomorrow, anywa-- BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! Her heart very nearly leaped out of her chest. To her horror, she realized that the phone was ringing. Ugh, no. Not talking with other people. Not today. She would die if she had to handle another person today. But that did nothing to stop the phone from ringing now. BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! With a growing sense of dread in her stomach, she slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position. What if it was the interviewer demanding an answer to her bad behaviour earlier? No, he wouldn't care... unless he did, and her rudeness to him could only be paid back by him chewing her out. Or maybe someone else found the bag? BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! Third ring now. It would cease after the fifth ring. She wanted it to. She didn't want to get up. She enjoyed her dark corner of woe too much for that. BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! Grudgingly, she got up onto her feet and took a step towards the phone. Irritation was overriding fear. ?Ugh. Shut up already, damn it.? BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! She reached out towards it, and was pleased when it didn't ring again after a few moments. Well, at least she was back on her feet. And it can't have been anything serious, then. Maybe it had been the interviewer, in which case she was glad she'd missed that. She was terrified of what she might have heard from the other end of the line then. But it was probably just a wrong numbe-- BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! She jumped. That was a second call. Same caller, most likely. So someone was looking for her. Her stomach did a somersault. BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! Feeling sick to her stomach, she hissed. ?Just put yourself out of your misery, already!? she scowled, and with that self-chastisement, she finally picked up the phone just as it started on the third ring. ?Bueno?? she asked on instinct. Force of habit. ?Eh?? She blinked. She'd lapsed for a moment. She was already dying of embarrassment. Clearing her throat, she quickly tried to cover for her mistake. ?Er... Hello?? Yes, that was better. ?Saib-Saihoushi residence.? Did it count as a residence if she was the only one here? Nah, she had her fish too. And damn it, why did that woman have to talk about the kanji in her name? That had thrown everything else off! ?Saihoushi? May I speak to... Mari Saihoushi?? She felt her breath catch in her throat. ?Y-yes, th-this is her. S-she! This is s-she.? She cursed herself for tripping over her words. ?Oh, good. You ran into me earlier today and dropped a canvas bag full of clothes, and I found your business card inside and figured it'd be best to call you.? A man's voice... wait, what had he said? Her eyes widened. Was something finally going right today? A small smile began to grow on her face. ?Y-you found my bag of clothes?? She realized she sounded too excited and toned it down. ?A-ah, I mean, I apologize for running into you... I was so nervous, I must have dropped my sample clothes when I r-ran out of that office...? Man, just remembering that made her start to feel awful again. ?Sample clothes? So this card is right, you're a clothing designer?? She felt her heart begin to race. Was she about to be ridiculed? ?Y-yeah. Yes. I guess... that's what I d-do, I suppose...? She bit her lip, pinched her skirt between two fingers, rocked back and forth on her feet, nervous about hearing what would come next. Would it be laughter? Or... ?Oh, wow, this is a lucky turn of fate. I hope you don't mind my asking, but.... would you consider coming to work for me and my company? I need someone who can design clothes, and I think your style is a perfect fit.? She very nearly dropped the phone right then and there. As it stood, she remained frozen to the spot. She couldn't react. The shock of hearing those words after such an awful day was overwhelming. After a few moments: ?Um... hello? Is everything all right?? She was jolted back into reality. ?I, um...? Her brain was still processing the last sentence. ?You w-want me to work for you?? ?Yes. I've been looking for someone with your taste in clothes for a while. It fits my imagination perfectly. I'd love for you to come work with me." Her throat was dry. She took deep breaths. Was this what she'd been waiting for this whole time? ?W-what kind of work would this be?? ?More designs like this. You would be making the costumes for the cast. I run a theatre company, you see. A sort of, uh, musical theatre. I write all the music and write all the plays myself, so you can imagine it's a lot of work.? ?I-I'd imagine.? That did seem like a lot of work. No wonder he was looking for someone separate to handle the costume-making. ?Well, I've been looking for the perfect clothes for the girls in the troupe, and I think your designs are a perfect fit. I'll give you twenty percent of the total proceeds from each production, how does that sound? More or less, depending on how many outfits I have you make.? ?I, uh... T-that sounds pretty good.? She'd never had a formal job actually sewing costumes, to be honest. She had no idea what that promise of money meant in the theatre world, anyway. It was still absolutely her dream come true, though! Then she paused. ?B-but...? ?But?? She winced, feeling the pain in her chest return. ?I.... have something of an... anxiety disorder. It makes it... really hard for me to go outside. Is this theatre you're talking about... far away?? If it was in the downtown area, that was where the crowds were always thickest. ?Oh, the girls are wonderful, they won't make you anxious at all!? Her heart sank. "I-it's not that... mostly it's crowds and... people...? She was too socially awkward to have any kind of job like this, wasn't she? Always, she was doomed from the start... ?Well, it is somewhat far from the city, actually. But you don't have to worry about that. You can work from home if you like. I'll leave the cloth and fabrics up to you, in that case.? She blinked. ?Wait, really?? Working from home? That was... perfect. Just what she had in mind. ?Certainly.  I'm quite serious about having you on my crew. Your designs are just perfect for what I have in mind. So what do you say?? It was probably the best deal she could ever get. Everything about it was pitch-perfect, and he sounded like he was enough on the level enough that she could give it a shot. She took a deep breath. ?I-in that case, I a-accept.? There. That was her leap of faith. ?Great! So when can you get to work?? ?Immediately...? The sooner the better, really. She couldn't wait to-- ?W-wait, what's your name? I h-haven't heard it.? She didn't know it then, but this was the name that would change her life forever. ?Oh, my apologies! I forgot to introduce myself. I'm the manager of the Shanghai Alice Theatre Troupe. My name is...? End of Chapter One Suck on that, fanfic-update stage fright! And now I will flee before anyone asks questions.

Iced Fairy: Hm...  An interesting start, yes.  I was wondering where you'd set it up, and now I'm curious how you'll wander from there.  Especially since I know a few details for the future. Though she needs to feed her fish!  ;_;

MatsuriSakuragi: --- Quote from: Iced Fairy on November 04, 2012, 11:23:26 PM ---Especially since I know a few details for the future. --- End quote --- Likewise, here! And I must say this is turning out as interesting as you mentioned. Mari is so adorable and I want to give her a big hug. <3 And of course, I loved the festival opening. Festivals have always sounded like so much fun and Mari seemed so happy :D I have to wonder how much of her social anxiety will change over the course of the story, as well. After all, she can't stay in her home forever, can she? Even if she is able to work from there. The part about her name was great, too. Wordplay is so much fun. :> Also, a headcanon: --- Quote ---?You can do this! Believe in me who believes in you, and all that kinda stuff! If I believe in you, and you believe in me, that's like you believing in yourself, right? So believe in me! You'll definitely get this today!? --- End quote --- She is totes a gurren lagann fan who watches her favorite episodes to psych herself up 8) Nice work so far. I'm excited to see more. <3

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