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Nitsuki blankly stared ahead as steam continued to fog the wet room. Her eyes traced the droplets of water that clung to its ceramic tiled wall, watching as they slowly rolled downwards and pooled on the floor, one by one.

She was just soaking now; she'd been done with her bath for quite a while. But here she sat, because no matter how much time passed, she couldn't quite get herself to stand and exit the tub. She couldn't bring herself to do much of anything really. Her brain had turned to mush after what had happened.

She was alive.

After heading back to the strange space Daimon had called the Crossroads, he had explained some of the finer details about her new ability and then promptly sent her home. He had also made sure to warn her of the potential pitfalls of her new gift: it was dangerous to rely on it too heavily for her decisions; overusing it would harm her; it was important to not become obsessed.

In other words, the typical things that one would expect to hear when given a godly ability. To be frank, Nitsuki hadn't paid much attention to those. Rather, she was a little peeved that the old man had disappeared right after that. Not even a proper goodbye.

"Whatever. I probably won't ever see him again anyway," she mumbled to herself, closing her eyes as she sank a little further into the water and submerged her upper body. There were more pressing things to focus on.

Like how she was actually alive. She hadn't died. Her life was still going, and that was… hard to process.

She had spent so much time, so much energy, and had been in so much pain just to be able to die. It had taken weeks to work up the nerve. Months to plan everything.

Now, it was all gone.

Her carefully laid plans, her meticulous research, her mental preparation—everything had been ruined. It had all been torn apart with a single, stupid, supernatural intervention.

Nitsuki let out a groan, sinking further until only her head was above the water. She could feel her long hair floating around her, tickling her shoulders. The warmth was starting to feel suffocating.

"Damn it," she hissed. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to move on from this?"

Well, whatever she was going to do, the first step would probably be to get out of the bath. She was starting to prune.

With a quiet splash, Nitsuki finally rose out of the tub and drained the water. The cool air hit her skin like a slap in the face, and she quickly fumbled for a towel, wrapping it around herself, before exiting into the changing area.

Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror that hung on the wall. She grimaced and quickly averted her gaze. She hated looking at her body. It was too broad, too toned, too… her eyes flicked up towards the mirror once more, tracing over her body's lines—too masculine.

Nitsuki sighed. It wasn't that she was ugly. Objectively, she was probably better off than most. She knew that.

She lingered over some of her more positive attributes. Her hair was long, thick, and dark brown. It fell past her shoulders in soft waves, and despite her current lackluster mood, it still looked good—it better have, she had spent years growing it out and conditioning it. Her eyes, although tired, were almond shaped, and her irises were a light brown, almost golden color. Lastly, her face was rounded, and her skin was clear and soft thanks to a combination of good genes, a healthy diet, and a basic skincare routine.

But even with that, she couldn't ignore the things that stuck out. Her shoulders were too broad, her hips were too narrow, her ribcage was too wide, and the list went on. No matter what, it seemed there was always something that betrayed her true nature if one looked hard enough.

She wasn't a woman, at least, not in the way she wanted to be. She was just an imposter masquerading in a costume—a cheap knockoff that could never live up to the real thing.

Nitsuki bit her lip. There it was again, one of the many wonderful thoughts that had made her want to kill herself: she was a fraud who didn't belong.

A small, broken chuckle escaped her lips.

"God, I really am pathetic, aren't I?" she whispered, staring into the mirror with a bitter smile on her face.

Maybe if she were in Tokyo or some other big city, she would have had an easier time. But this was Hoshimaru, a small town nestled in the mountains of Nagano: a place that was far too rural, where everyone knew each other, and where being different was dangerous, even if one tried their damned best to fit in and conform.

No matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, no matter how much she tried to dress like a girl or act like one or talk like one, no one would ever truly believe it. They knew her—before she was her.

And that was why it had come to this.

Nitsuki took a shuddering breath and grabbed a second towel to start drying off. It was fine. She just needed to get out of her head for a bit and calm down.

After dressing herself, she walked into the vast and empty home. It was a slightly older house, one that was far too big for just one person, and it was entirely silent save for the sound of her footsteps echoing off of wooden boards.

At least it had been renovated to modern standards, so there was heating in every room and the flooring was in good condition. There was even aircon in her room and a toilet with all of the bells and whistles. All of which was nice, of course, but it did little to fill the lonely silence.

Nitsuki sighed again and moved to her bedroom. It was a simple space with bare walls, a bed, a dresser, and a desk. She had gotten rid of most of her things prior to this, so there wasn't really too much else. The only personal items she had left were a few clothes, some books and papers on her desk, and her old charm bracelet. She had kept it in the hopes that someone would find and wear it after she had died.

That was another thing she'd have to deal with now though: undoing everything she had done. She'd have to buy furniture, restock the kitchen, maybe even get a new phone. There was so much she'd have to do, and she didn't know if she could even bring—

*BA-DING*

The sound of her phone receiving a notification echoed through the house. She had it set to keep setting off alerts until she checked it. Normally, she'd be annoyed by the sound, but it was almost a welcome distraction right now.

Nitsuki padded over to where it was sitting on her bedside table, unplugged it, and then checked the messaging app for the latest notifications.

 >> I know that the owner can be a little prickly sometimes, but I'm sure she'll warm up to you this time. She's got a bit of a soft spot for cute things. (*￣▽￣)b

 >> Hey, Nia, are you there?

She checked the timestamps. They had been sent a while ago while the sun had still been up, likely while she had just gotten into the bath.

Huh, so the vision hadn't lied to her about the timing. Not that she had doubted Daimon, but it was still strange seeing it confirmed in front of her.

Suddenly, her phone started vibrating in her hand as a new notification popped up.

 >> Nia? Hello? What do you think? It could be fun! (´｡• ω •｡`) ~

She blinked. He hadn't given up?

Without thinking too much about it, she typed out a quick response.

 > Sorry, I was taking a bath. I'll have to think about it a bit. (^^;

Tachibana's reply was almost instantaneous.

 >> Ah, sorry! Didn't mean to bother you (´∇｀)

 >> I know it's rude to get between a girl and her bath, lol.

 >> So yeah, let me know when you've decided!

 >> I'll be waiting! ヽ(*≧ω≦)ﾉ

Despite herself, Nitsuki felt the corners of her lips curl upwards. His messages were always like this: cheerful and positive. That was part of why she liked him, even if he could be a little too much at times.

She typed a short reply and put her phone back down before climbing into bed.

It was a Friday night, but it was getting late. If she didn't go to sleep now, she'd be a wreck tomorrow. Plus, despite the fact that Tachibana's grandfather was supposed to handle the weekend shifts at the shop, there was always the chance of her being called in to assist as well.

With that in mind, Nitsuki flicked off her bedside lamp. Her room plunged into darkness, and she curled up under the notably empty covers.

"… Damn it. I really shouldn't have donated my plushies."