Of unsought beginnings

Seated behind the counter with her head propped by her hand, Reisen was reading through her notes and university textbooks, open and splayed on the desk one over the other.

After a while, however, she yawned and stretched on her chair, proceeding to close one by one all the books she was reading – or, if she wanted to be honest with herself, the books that her eyes had been uselessly staring at for she didn’t know how long –: she had already read all the novels and manga she had either left at her parents’ home or brought with her, so she’d told herself that she could’ve as well revised her courses, even though she didn’t really need that – yes, she was that desperate –, but it was utterly boring and it wasn’t even working. If she could she would’ve slept or gone for a walk, but she couldn’t leave the shop unattended; she couldn’t even work out or train with her fencing sword, because what would’ve thought the customers? There were too few of them, so she couldn’t risk upsetting or scaring them in any way.

Shaking her head, she tidied her books and got up. The shop was as organised as always, since she spent every single morning checking that everything was ranged, but there wasn’t much else to do, so she decided to take another tour. Magic books, magic amplifiers, lucky charms, knick-knacks… her parents’ shop had anything and everything a mage could wish for, and then some more: it wasn’t even because that was the only magic shop in Narai-juku, her parents were just big magic lovers and compensated for their average magic skills with plenty of enthusiasm.

She was on the point of taking a random tome to skim through, when the door suddenly opened, making the small bells attached to it chime hurriedly and breaking the boring quietness of the shop.

Reisen stepped away from the bookshelf to properly greet the customer. “Good morning, what can I do for-”

“You have to help me, we’re all in great danger!”

Reisen took back everything she’d ever said or thought about the quietness being boring: she loved, she adored it, and she wanted it back. “… in great danger” she repeated sceptically, arching an eyebrow and looking at the newcomer: she- no, he?- whatever, they were a human child with androgynous features, yellow-ochre eyes and longish hair of the same colour, and wore a refined student uniform she didn’t recognise, but if the few trinkets they had on their person were anything to go by they were some kind of mage. “Kid, I don’t have time for games.”

“I’m not a kid!” they exclaimed, pouting exactly like one. “And it’s not a game, it’s the truth!”

“Sure” Reisen said, deadpan. “So, apart from that, can I actually do something for you?”

“You-!” They puffed up their cheeks, clenching their fists. “The least you could do is put up a barrier around the town!”

“Kid, I’m just a shop employee, I don’t use magic besides a few basic spells.” Why bother, after all, when she could obtain the majority of things she needed with technology?

The child, however, seemed utterly shocked. “You… But- you are… This is a family-run shop! It’s been for generations, it’s written just outside!”

Reisen crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, my family has always loved magic, but I don’t use it much. We exist. Your point?” She knew she was being sterner than she should’ve with a customer, but in that moment she didn’t care much. People always had to comment on the same damn things, and she hated it.

The student’s eyes widened and they deflated, seemingly realising their mistake, but their pout remained. “… you don’t believe me either?”

Reisen sighed, lightly shaking her head. She wasn’t made to deal with children. “Kid, what even is there to believe? Narai-juku is as peaceful has ever, the business somehow still thrives, we don’t have problems among ourselves: what is this danger you’re talking about?”

The child looked down, clenching their fists. “… I’m not sure.” Before Reisen could get unnerved, they continued. “It began in my town, some people started becoming unable to use even the simplest spells, losing interest in magic at the same time, and then I saw it happen in other places too.”

Reisen frowned slightly. That was strange, but… “These people, were they mages?”

“Well, no, but…”

She shrugged. “Listen, kid, I don’t want to be that kind of person, but have you thought about the fact that maybe they were just… tired?”

“Of magic?”

“Yes.”

“How could one be ever tired of it?”

It was asked with such big doe eyes and childlike honesty that Reisen felt actually bad for suggesting it. She grimaced. “Kid, I don’t know, not everyone is the same.”

They evidently didn’t like her answer, but stayed silent for a moment, looking at the side. “… I’m Tsuchifuji Yukiya” they said, changing the topic, kind of unprompted if you asked her. Why would they even tell her their full name anyway? “And I’m not a kid.”

Reisen smiled for the first time that day. “Sure you aren’t.” She thought about it an instant, then decided that their conversation had already strained from what should’ve been a proper customer-employee interaction and added: “Kiddo.”

They lightly stomped their foot on the ground in an evident show of maturity. “Hey, I’m fifteen!”

Reisen rolled her eyes. “And I’m actually a powerful witch in disguise.”

The Tsuchifuji kid seemed to brighten all of a sudden. “Wait, you are?”

She sighed, dumbfounded. Were those actual magical sparkles around them or was she just imagining them from the force of their wonder? “… No, kid, I was joking” she said, breaking all of their hopes and dreams with a single neat strike. It was true that she nearly felt bad when their whole person deflated in disappointment, but it wasn’t her fault if they didn’t understand quips and she wasn’t there to explain how they worked. “But, in any case” she said, shaking her head and redirecting the conversation to something that actually concerned her job. “This is a magic shop, and you’re welcome to browse everything we have.”

They perked up a bit at that. “… Can I stay there?” they asked, pointing at the bookshelf.

Reisen shrugged. “Sure.”

She returned to her place behind the counter, looking at how they took a magic tome in their hands and then plopped down to the wooden floor to read. After a while she asked if they needed a chair, or a cushion, but they said that they liked sitting on wood, something that she dismissed as a mage thing, and she left it at that. When the shop was on the point of closing, they bought a few books and left as though they had just been a dream.

That evening, Reisen spent some time thinking back to the unexpected twist that day had taken, but was ultimately glad she could now return to the monotonousness she knew.

The day after, however, the kid stubbornly came back.

And the one after that.

And the one even after.

And then again, for a whole week, until Reisen found herself thinking that they were in a time loop or something like that, even though she knew enough about magic to be aware of the fact that a similar thing wasn’t possible at all.

“Don’t you ever get tired? What are you even searching for?” she asked at the end of the week; she wasn’t complaining, since after that first eventful day they had behaved pretty well, but she couldn’t deny that she was vaguely curious. What did they hope to find?

The kid, seated cross-legged on the floor and surrounded by piles upon piles of books, frowned, pursing their lips. “… I’m not sure. Some sort of spell that I don’t know yet, that can explain what’s happening.”

Reisen put her chin on her palm. “And it’s working?”

Their frown deepened. “No, but I can’t just stop, there has to be something…” They trailed off, looking to the side, but then their eyes widened all of a sudden and they jumped to their feet, making the book they had on their knees fall to the floor. Reisen didn’t even have time to tell them to be more careful with someone else’s stuff, because they pointed somewhere behind her and exclaimed, seemingly scared: “What’s that?”

Suddenly alarmed, Reisen turned around.

The… thing was faster than her, but she was at least quick enough to see it: it was some kind of translucent serpentine creature, and it was slithering up the stairs that led to the living quarters.