Ink Stained

15: long time no see*

久しぶり

Kanou warned her that this could be the case, but still – she's unprepared to find herself in her childhood bedroom.

She opens her eyes to find herself sitting cross-legged on a futon by the short table set in the middle of the room. The walls around her are painted a pretty shade of flamingo pink, although one wall has a rather terrible rendition of Kaonashi painted on it. Behind her is a big window, with murky mid-morning sunlight hazily streaming in through the sparkling clean glass of the window. Dangling from the window frame is a wooden talisman that hangs still in the windless day.

Obaasan had made it for her, when Shiori complained about the mean little Yori Chiisai that liked to follow her to and from school. Somehow, it kept them from entering her bedroom, she remembers. They could only linger at the window and peer in, but not enter, before they got bored and left. Shiori still has the talisman, now hanging it on the window of her room at Ayashi House.

In front of her is a closet built into the wall. It's open to reveal several uniforms and some casual clothes neatly folded and lining the shelves. A single yukata hangs on the hook of the open door. A lot of Hello Kitty clothing merchandise is in there, along with an assortment of other anime merchandise, mostly Studio Ghibli if it isn't Hello Kitty. A large variety of shoes for small feet (were here feet really that tiny?) are lined neatly in the shoe rack at the bottom of the closet.

To her right is a desk and rolling chair pushed carefully into it, matching with the running Hello Kitty theme. On the table are three notebooks, the covers being red, blue, and one in a darker blue with a dancing Totoro character painted on it. Right above the desk is a whiteboard nailed to the wall, swept clean of any traces of ink. A duster with a wooden back and a big black marker sits next to it.

Shiori slowly stands, wincing at the rush of pins and needles down her legs. She makes her way to the desk, feeling too big in this room obviously meant for a little girl – and not a little embarrassed at the sheer amount of Hello Kitty that floods her senses. She remembers loving it when she was younger, but was it really to this extent?

She picks up the notebook with Totoro on it and stares at the name tag stuck to the bottom right corner.

It's her handwriting.

名; 松本 詩織

クラス; 2-1

先生; 田中綾夫

手間; 家政学

Her finger trails over the ring-bound spine of the notebook. She flips the cover open and there it is; her thirteen-year-old messy, scrawling handwriting fills the page, squeezing between margins and other sentences to preserve space even though she was told by her teachers not to do that.

Shiori sets the book down in its place. She walks on slightly wobbling legs over to the closet and reaches out a hesitant hand to touch the yukata hanging there. It's very obviously fit for a child, and as Shiori runs her hands over the smooth, silken fabric, tears spring to her eyes, a knot in her throat. She doesn't wipe the tears away. Instead, she pulls the yukata out of the closet and holds it in front of her. It only reaches to just above her knees.