Chapter Text
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Date: December 25th, 20XX.
Time: 12:00 pm
Location: Home
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"This story is a work of fiction
Similarities between characters or events to persons living or dead in your world
are purely coincidental.
Only those who have agreed to the above
have the privilege of partaking in this game
[[I 𝗔𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗘]] [[I DO NOT AGREE]]
Once the 'agree' option was selected, a bright white light from the screen of the television filled the dark room and the player flinched back, raising her arm to protect her eyes from the sudden intrusive rays in her face. She scrambled to turn down the lighting settings with her controller, but once the light fully disappeared, her eyes dropped down and then her body slumped onto the carpeted floor.
It was all going according to plan.
Because when the player wakes up, her life would change drastically.
There was only one question that remained however. Would it be for better or worse?
The answer remained solely on the player because you are in charge of carving a new path for yourself.
"...The contract has been sealed
The world is not how it should be
It's filled with distortion
and "ruin" can no longer be avoided,
Those who oppose fate desire change,,,
From time to time
They were referred to as Tricksters
You have been sent to this world to seek change and rise against all odds
Now is the time to rise against the abyss of distortion"
The fluffy pillow under my head is soft but not overly too sunken, the mattress is firm but not uncomfortably so, and as the cool material of the plush duvet lays over my body, it's almost hard to get up. I feel cozy despite the morning rays of sunlight shining directly onto my face. It almost makes me forget what had happened brief moments ago until I eventually recall I hadn't been asleep. I was about to play a game and there was no morning sun, it was supposed to be a crisp and chilly Christmas morning.
It was confusing to say the very least. My eyes shoot open and panic settles inside of me when I observe my surroundings. The environment around me had significantly changed.
This bedroom isn't mine, the layout is foreign, and the snowfall that had occurred last night was nowhere to be found when I make short strides over to the window to look outside.
Pushing the curtain over to the left and pulling open the latch allows the cool breeze to flutter through my hair and face. The sunlight significantly brightens up the room. Gazing out the window reveals the hustling and bustling narrow street below me.
Not recognizing the outside made my heart pound. When I burst out of the room, greeting me first is a long narrow hallway with three other doors on the same floor. One is the bathroom while the second and third rooms are bedrooms.
My siblings and parents are nowhere in sight. The rooms are clearly un-lived in. The bedsheets have no wrinkles, the mattresses show no dents in place. Each pillow is fluffed up and fat. The blankets are folded in perfect squares. There's not a personal belonging of theirs' anywhere.
The rooms are tidy to the point of being bare bone empty. Even an IKEA showroom had more depth. I'm trapped inside a museum of minimalism. Lifeless and devoid of warmth.
The ground floor is no better. The kitchen is an open concept, but it remains small and lacklustre. At least there were appliances like a microwave and a coffee maker. But the fridge has not one magnet and the oven has a gas stove.
The dining room - if you could even call it one - displayed a long rectangular wooden table accompanied with four matching wooden chairs. On top of the table is a plain hanging light with a white metal shade. At least table runner and the single flower vase is pretty.
The living room is the most vibrant room in the whole house. It has a decent sized matching love seat and chair, both with pink and white tiny flowers printed onto the fabric of each furniture. The throw pillows are the colour of terracotta with matching tassels attached to each corner.
On the left side of the couch is a floor lamp with a tan paper shade. There is a short coffee table in the center of the room with a dark wood table top. It sits on top of a loop pile rug, and on top of the table sits a tiny bonsai tree.
A few more potted plants also brightens up the space, there are some small trees even taller than I am.
Across from the couch is a wooden tv stand, the same colour as the coffee table, with a bookcase built underneath it. Resting on the surface is a 30" inch flatscreen TV.
How generous.
The house I currently am in is not mine. I wouldn't say anything in here is something I own but I couldn't rule this situation to be a ruse or a kidnapping attempt either.
What if I am being watched?
Slowly walking to the front door and unlocking it proves that I am at least not trapped inside the house, but more questions only filled my mind. Where am I? Who or what took me here? Where was my family? What happened to the game I was playing?
My mind is hazy, but the last thing I recall was Igor's contract screen flashing white which had never happened before.
With no way to find the answers to all the questions I had, going back upstairs to the room I woken up in seemed like a better than nothing option. There, my phone is laid on the bedside table. Thankfully so too. At least I still have one recognizable possession with me.
When I pick it up and to read my lock screen, I stared at it for more than a few seconds and my confusion only rises.
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Date: April 11th, 20XX
Time: Morning, before school
Location: Tokyo, Japan
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"Ja..Japan?! April 11th?" I stammer. My hand shakes under the phone.
There's no actual way, right? The absurdity of my situation makes me wonder if this was just some lucid dream. But raising my left hand up to pinch my right wrist made my skin sting. I inhaled air through my teeth.
I was blocking myself from all the mental pain but the physical pain made my inner wrist swell red.
Despite the fact that I couldn't come to terms with the reality I was suddenly faced with, all the undeniable evidence was staring right at me.
The neighbourhood apartments across from the house is different from the suburban homes on my home street. Each are different sizes, all unique too. Some houses run small shops on the ground floor, other houses have small balconies with a clothesline hanging outside. There are neon signs and posters all over the place.
The spring weather is also impossible to deny between the warm air and the pollen travelling by wind.
With the map on my phone also confirming the location, I had to come to terms that this wasn't my home country. This wasn't my house.
My next main issue was how I ended up here in the first place. It was the biggest mystery by far. Whether it was through some predetermination or by a smuggling, I had yet to find out. The month is currently April but the year remained the same. Pacing through this room made my mind bounced around ideas. Each sounding more crazy and impossible than the last.
Maybe I was trapped in a comatose? Maybe I was drugged? Maybe I had early signs of dementia and I've lived here my whole life?
Exploring what little this room had to offer might give me some insight. There was nothing to lose.
The nightstand drawer hides an incense stick, a sleeping mask, and chargers. The desk drawers store stationary, controllers, and extra general supplies. The small closet inside the room holds a wardrobe of clothes I was at least familiar with including a school uniform and -- school uniform?
The school uniform was staring at me directly in the face and my soul practically leaped out of my body.
Innocently hanging right there in my closet was a white turtle neck, a very familiar black, red, and white plaid skirt, and to top it all off, there was a black blazer with its infamous school crest ironed onto the breast pocket.
It was a Shujin Academy school uniform.
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