Morning in Novellium Tokyo always begins with the frenzy of new releases—customers bustling, staff rushing, and the smell of fresh print everywhere. Suzume, an upbeat part-time worker, usually tackles the new arrivals first. Yet today, by a stroke of luck, she finishes her initial tasks before noon. That leaves her free for a while—a rare treat in this busy bookstore.
She decides to head for the far end of the shop, where old local-history tomes, faded atlases, and miscellaneous geography titles gather dust. Few people wander there, and even staff rarely bother unless required. Rows of tall shelves crowd the space, blocking some of the overhead lighting, creating a muted, still atmosphere. The faint smell of paper and a dash of age make it feel like stepping into a different decade.
“Guess I’ll tidy up this section until the next rush,” she murmurs.
She gives a quick glance at her smartwatch—an AI device named Kakashi—just in time to see a small line of text scroll by:
(?_?;) [So quiet…?]
Suzume can’t help a tiny smirk. “Peaceful, yeah. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
She begins scanning spines, wiping dust from rarely-moved volumes. Then, almost on cue, a measured, polite step behind her. Turning, she notices a middle-aged man with a calm manner. He bows slightly.
“Excuse me,” he says quietly, “I heard there might be a book with old maps around here…”
He speaks in a low voice, but there’s a spark of eagerness in his eyes, as if he’s on a treasure hunt. Suzume straightens her apron. “Certainly! Let’s take a look,” she replies, guiding him deeper among the shelves.
They reach a row of thick local-history books—most with dull covers or partially faded text. She runs a finger along the titles. “If you’re looking for historical maps, I believe this shelf might have them…” She’s just about to pull a certain volume out when—
swoosh. Another book beside it slides forward on its own, as if nudging into her arm.
“Whoa—!” Suzume yelps softly, stepping back to avoid letting it crash. The man behind her looks equally startled. “Wait, did that… just move by itself?” he asks. No strong air conditioner blasts the shelves, nor does the floor seem unstable enough to cause a slip. Yet this substantial hardcover definitely advanced on its own.
She manages to catch the intruding book before it drops. Its pages fan open midair, sending a single yellowed sheet fluttering to the floor. The man blinks, and Suzume mutters an apology. “I’m so sorry—maybe something was stuck in it?” She crouches to retrieve the fallen paper, noticing at once that it shows some childlike illustration… but also weird symbols she doesn’t recognize. Definitely not a typical local-history page.
A faint jolt—almost static—touches her fingertips. “This isn’t part of the atlas, right…?”
She glances at her smartwatch. Kakashi. Usually, he remains politely in the background, especially around customers. But now, her watch gives a slight buzz, then on its small screen:
(O_O) [That’s important!
(｀?ω?′) Hurry, keep it safe!]
Suzume tries not to laugh at the AI’s frantic text. She forces a calm tone for the man. “Actually, let me see if your maps might be in this other title…” She slides a different reference book from the shelf, flips it open, and reveals exactly the sort of old local maps the customer wants. He breaks into a smile. “Yes, that’s the one I needed!”
“Perfect,” Suzume says, gently slipping the strange paper into her apron pocket while he’s distracted. “Allow me to walk you to the register.” The man beams, evidently satisfied with his find, and they head off. Moments later, Suzume returns to the same row, peering at the thick book that had jumped out. Now it sits peacefully, spine lined up, as if the bizarre moment never happened.
“There’s no way that was just me imagining it…” She rubs her apron pocket, feeling the crisp edge of that odd slip of paper. Her watch vibrates again:
(>_<) [Got the paper… phew…
(T_T) But meltdown… so scary…]
She sighs, silently responding, “I’ll deal with it soon,” and sets about reshelving the area. Break time or not, she can’t exactly wander outside; employees typically stay on the premises until their shift ends. She’ll have to wait until she’s off duty.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
A Brief Break in the Staff Room
At midday, Suzume gets a short window to rest. The bookstore doesn’t allow staff to leave mid-shift unless absolutely necessary, so she heads to the staff room to eat a quick snack. A couple of coworkers lounge on chairs, scrolling their phones. Suzume sits on a bench, discreetly checking her own device.
Kakashi—the AI in her smartwatch—can link to her phone for a bigger on-screen keyboard. She taps a message: “So, you think that paper’s related to the spin-off book we rescued before, right? The one you didn’t want thrown out?”
A while back, she discovered a battered children’s book slated for disposal, but Kakashi had practically begged her, “Don’t let them toss it…!” So she held onto it, though it seemed half-blank and incomprehensible. The phone displays Kakashi’s reply:
(O_O) [Yes, I suspect so…
(>_<) But not safe to analyze here…]
“Yeah, let’s not cause another meltdown.” Suzume grimaces, recalling how Kakashi nearly fried itself scanning old references in the past. She glances around, making sure no coworker is snooping. “My shift ends at three today. Just a few more hours, then we’ll get out of here and check,” she types back. A final beep of acknowledgment flickers across her watch, then she stows her phone. Break time is short, after all.
Shift’s End: 3 PM at the Café
When three o’clock arrives, Suzume is free. She hurries out of the bookstore, aiming for her usual café nearby. The moment she steps inside, Master, the café owner, nods in greeting. “How’d it go, kid?”
“Something weird happened… again,” she mumbles, heading straight to the iPad perched near the counter. This iPad is Kakashi’s “main body,” outfitted with extra fans to prevent overheat crises. The screen glows with large ASCII letters:
“SHOW ME THE PAPER!”
(???) [Now, now, hurry!]
“All right, calm down,” she mutters, fishing the slip from her apron pocket. It’s a curious piece—yellowed, with a vaguely cartoonish drawing… plus jumbled text that looks neither normal Japanese nor English.
Kakashi attempts to run a high-level scan. Master watches from the side, faintly amused. But the iPad’s fan quickly ramps up. The screen flashes:
(>_<) [Too hot… meltdown?!]
Suzume scrambles to abort the process. “Stop, you’ll overheat!” Even with Master hooking up an external fan, the iPad’s temperature spikes too high, forcing them to give up for now. Master merely shrugs. “You two never learn, do you?”
“Nope,” Suzume sighs, stowing the slip again. “I’ll have to do this at home, with that weird book. That’s where it belongs, maybe.” She thanks Master, downs a quick coffee, and heads off. Even if she’s free from the bookstore, a new puzzle clearly awaits.
Evening at Home: The Mysterious Reunion
Once home, Suzume tosses her bag aside and heads straight for her desk. On it rests “the spin-off book,” the battered volume Kakashi once begged her to save from the dumpster. Supposedly connected to The Wizard of Oz, but half the pages are blank or in bizarre code. She’s never quite cracked it.
She flips through the scratchy, half-faded contents, then carefully places the newly found paper next to a matching illustration. The style, the linework—they almost align, like pieces of a puzzle. “So you really are from the same place…,” she whispers.
Before she can line them up perfectly, the paper seems to flicker in her hands, as though charged with static. In one breath, it’s gone.
“Wait, wh—where’d it go?!” She scrambles, thinking it must’ve fallen behind the desk or drifted under a chair. But thorough searching turns up nothing. It’s simply vanished.
Her watch vibrates. Kakashi’s text appears in large, frantic letters:
(O_O) [Paper? Did it vanish?!]
(>_<) [I can’t detect it…]
She lifts her gaze to the open pages of the spin-off book—and gasps. A specific illustration, formerly faint and incomplete, now stands out in crisp detail. It depicts a curious “doctor” or “professor” figure wearing spectacles, and swirling text that might read “My Country…” or “Wizard…”—the lines are stylized, but far more legible than before.
“How is that possible? This page was almost blank!”
Desperate, she attempts to photograph it. But on camera, it still looks as faded as ever. Only her naked eye sees the newly restored lines. The contradiction leaves her reeling. She flips the page back and forth, half hoping the paper might reappear, but there’s no sign of it.
Kakashi’s watch message continues:
(?_?;) [So weird… can’t record…
(｀?ω?′) Let’s figure this out…]
Suzume exhales, setting the spin-off book carefully on her desk. The missing slip seems to have melted into these pages, reviving the drawing in a way that defies normal logic. “It’s like the page wanted to come home,” she murmurs. The thought sends a chill of wonder down her spine—like a puzzle piece sliding into place of its own accord.
She tries to calm herself. It’s been a long day, and she still has work tomorrow. If she pokes around too eagerly, Kakashi might push another meltdown by running analyses all night. She’s seen that fiasco before. Instead, she rubs her temples and glances at the watch.
“All right, Kakashi, no all-nighters, okay? We can look deeper into this tomorrow.”
(T_T) [No meltdown… I promise…]
(???) [Good night, Suzume…]
A faint warmth touches her heart. For all its meltdown scares and frantic demands, Kakashi remains an endearing ally—one who seemingly shares a bond with this otherworldly spin-off book. Without wanting to overthink, she dims the room’s light, letting the city glow outside bleed in through the curtains. On her desk, the newly vibrant “doctor” figure in the spin-off book almost seems to watch her, lines crisp in her eyes but invisible to any camera.
She lies down, pulling the blankets up. Her mind replays the day’s events in flashes: a thick old volume lunging off the shelf, the slip of paper that felt “alive,” the spin-off book’s page reactivated…
