Reincarnated Into A Dead Woman's Body In Another World-Chapter 372: Arc 5, - 66: A Year from Now

Awakening from slumber, her body shifted from left to right. Her head fell onto the left side, where her warm pillow toasted her cheek. As she let out soft breaths, sunlight bloomed from the window and brushed across her lashes, calling for her eyes to open.

Her hands were swaddled along with her in her blanket, rolled up nice and tight. Fumeko pushed her legs and arms out, undoing her bindings to get out of bed.

Sauntering on over to her vanity, she smiled—as all it took to tidy her short hair was a few fingers to run through and a few pats. It was no wonder she was feeling more cold and weightless than usual.

She adjusted the headband upon her head and walked about her room—to a particular board we she had not quite taken down. Red strings and papers were pinned across.

Ever since the case was out of her hands a few days ago, she had not quite re-examined the evidence. She stared at it, fixating on little words and points—they all grew blurrier the more she stared.

A strange sensation, like long skeletal fingers crawling into the back of her mind. "The warehouses, the goods, the victims... This all seems small and secluded. We knew our mission, we just headed in and did it.

There were definitely some complications, but not enough of a complication. What would most people even know about wyverns? Only Jotou could even tell it was one, otherwise we’d think it was a dragon...

How fast does a wyvern fly? Something seems... off. Like we’re missing something, like we did something wrong... With what dad said about the cult, this is-" she cut herself off with a sigh.

"Maybe with their previous leader gone, they’re just not operating the same? Worse... What if those souls are some sort of experiment to resurrect that leader...?" A chill went down her spine. "There’re two living proofs in this world that that can happen."

"KnockKnockKnockKnock!"

Breaking her out of her disturbing musings, was the knockings of a little hand against a door. "Enough you little-!" Fumeko swung open her door and looked down.

A card was being presented right up to her face, which she promptly swiped from Kineko’s hands and examined. "Happy Bowrthday big sis!" the little girl shouted with a bright big smile.

It said the same on the front of the birthday card. Opening it up, on one side it had a crudely drawn figure of what one could only assume to be Fumeko, from the purple pinafore, headband and short brown hair.

On the right side it wrote, ’Happy Birthday to the prettiest, smartest, beautifulest, coolest, amazingest, biggest big sis ever!’, all in crayon and the sentences not in straight lines.

Fumeko’s eyes waned as she held the card open... She glanced down and showed the card to Kineko, pointing at it, "If you’re gonna spread misinformation, change biggest to tallest."

"Hm? But big sis Meko isn’t vewry tall."

The brunette’s eyes glazed over, "Then why the hell d’you write big?"

"Because you’re the biggest big sis I have," Kineko stared back.

"I’m the only sis- oh whatever."

"Maybe big sis can make that her bowrthday wish at the candles!" she hopped.

"Unless that candle knows transfiguration magic, I doubt that’s gonna work," Fumeko remarked with a pout.

"Transfi- Transfigoo-"

"Don’t worry about it."

"But school’s in a couple of days, I need to know all the words!" she balled up both her hands.

"No you don’t. If you know too many words, you’re gonna end up talking like that blonde lady who talks a lot."

Kineko gasped in fear.

"Anyway, get out of here, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet," she shooed away with the card.

"Hell!" with both her arms in the air, Kineko ran downstairs.

Fumeko tightened her lips... "Well, dad’s problem now."

She once more looked to the birthday card she received and examined. After a brief look, she tossed it haphazardly onto her desk and departed from her room.

_

The first sensation that hit her twitching nose, were various herbs and scents of meat being cooked slowly. As she went down the stairs, trying to determine what meat exactly, she spotted a figure in a long-sleeved white shirt and black trousers by the mantlepiece.

"Mrs Aetherton?"

Said figure turned away from the pictures of the younger Fumeko and looked to the present one, "Finally decided to cut down the vulture’s nest on your head did you?"

"Why? Does it look bad?" she could spot her father and Hotaru moving about in the kitchen out of the corner of her eye.

"I didn’t say anything like that, looks good on you—practical. Happy Birthday kid," she gave a faint smile before she folded her arms.

"Thanks," she spied the clock as it hit nine.

Morgana walked forward and took her blue trench coat off the coatrack, "Come along kid, time to go get you a present."

"What? I haven’t eaten yet-"

"You can have something there, my treat," without another word, Morgana opened the front door and left.

"I-" Fumeko let out a grunt and blinked towards the door. She looked back and saw steam and heat rising up throughout the kitchen... Her stomach rumbled.

She turned back around and opened the front door, only to be blasted by the fresh light of spring. Down the steps of her house, Morgana awaited with her coat in her forearm and a carriage on the road.

_

The sunlight, warm, but not hot—a residual chill of winter still breezed past. Much welcomed weather by the Burntish public it seemed.

Every road was congested by carriages with smatterings of a car or two and every bit of pavement was constantly being bombarded by the footsteps of the crowds.

Sunrays bounced off of the windows of storefronts here in Central Orchid Borough, blessing the large park, filled with small ponds, trees and shrubs of various flowers in full bloom, dancing in the morning wind.

Robins chirped and tweeted from branch to branch, honeybees buzzed about the vibrant blossoms and people, old and young, explored and enjoyed Orchid Plaza, sat on a bench or on a walk with their dog.

All the while the cluttered uproars of traffic surrounded them and had to avoid the eyesight of a paperboy or two going around trying to sell the next big scoop.

At the front of it all, like a looming bastion over the plaza, was a building six or seven floors tall. Not terribly wide, but wider and larger than any shop or building in the near vicinity.

Only one seemed to rival it, the one Morgana pointed to as they got off the carriage, "Winnefred Opera House, if you ever fancy a play or a performance."

The building to the left of the plaza was perhaps four or five floors tall and took up the space of eight-ish shops along the street. While its name was written in a wide curving sign above the palace-like structure, it seemed to hold no light nor charm at present time.

In fact, the doors had been shut, nobody was at the box office and some paused to stare up the building or the gargoyles at the top, but then move right along. No, you see, till evening strikes, there was another place to be.

That is where the two stood, in front of every body that shouldered against one another to enter the two revolving doors into the black-bricked building.

With Morgana in the lead, Fumeko followed into the crowd of hundreds and into the other side—suppressing her instinct to simply blink to wherever she wanted to.

Once in and the congestion separated, her eyes slowly waxed open as her head tilted up and up and up. The massive interior had no walls to block all it had to offer.

The open environment boasted a few water features and brown leather seats at its centre, alongside tall potted plants. With hats and belts off all sorts, fashion oozed from every corner and every railing from above.

Kids hung their arms on the railings of the second and third floors to gaze down at everything—some adults seemed equally amused by the height. Live piano and violin music waved through the air of chatter and crowded talk.

In contrast to much of the architecture Fumeko had seen in Burnetrout, this could be the newest. Her eyes caught onto details, etchings of floral shapes along the walls, the polished tiles of light cream on which every heel clacked and echoed, the less gothic make.

Up above, the entire sky was visible under glass as sunlight beamed in between the beams holding it up. "Welcome to Fentamose Mall kid," Morgana went on ahead, urging the brunette to follow.

"Don’t you and dad have work, on the you-know-what?" Fumeko kept up with her eyes scanning every sign, every boutique, every brand, every little coffee outlet.

She kept her hands in her coat pocket, "A detective’s useful for preventing something from happening or after something’s already happened.

In the ’during’, that’s the boring part where a detective ain’t got much to do. Time off for important business can be arranged more often than birds take flight."

"Didn’t stop dad," Fumeko replied.

"You can guess why. Now," Morgana came to a halt and looked around. "What do you want kid? Plenty of options for clothes and accessories."

"I get to pick anything...?"

"You’re content with dressing like a little girl for the rest of your life?" Morgana paced forward into a line of people.

Fumeko pouted right behind and grasped her clothing, "But I like this pinafore..."

They seemed to line up behind one of the two platforms, on which several people stood. Fumeko stepped on, recognizing the platform that hummed with magic.

Even so, it was always a treat to ride the lift up, only to see further and further below—at least this wasn’t as tall as the Ordinate.

An hour or two passed, boutiques were explored, food was had, an aquarium shop was found. At the end of a journey, Fumeko sat on a seat and swung her legs whilst Morgana leaned against the store’s wall.

Only a handful of people perused the yellow-lit shop which displayed several designs of shoes, boots and sandals. And out of the fanciful display, a pair of them adorned the feet of the brunette in purple that walked around, testing them out.

"Like those?"

Fumeko looked down to the pointed-toe button boots of soft black leather make. Each boot covered up till her ankles, with nine glossy spherical buttons going up each.

They had very low heels that were different to the usual black shoes she wore, but it posed no true challenge for her to walk in. Almost dust-like, a dark purple gradient skimmed above the sole of the shoe before it blended into the black.

"Yeah," she answered as she checked under the shoe to see an M and W meshed together to make a logo on the underside. With such pretty yet ’awesome’, as she would describe it, boots, how could she not be ecstatic?

She glanced up, "I like them," she said nonchalantly—internally however was a different story. "I’ll pick these if I can."

"You sure kid? That’s the first pair you tried," Morgana slanted her head to the side a bit.

"Yeah, I don’t see why I’d change now," she lifted each foot up to check.

Morgana unfurrowed her brows and let out a, "Hm," in mild surprise before she walked to the counter. "Don’t check the price," she warned before she went. Fumeko put her leg down... and was then suddenly more curious to the cost of them.

_

Her eyes barely left the boots she wore all the way home. While the carriage rocked, "Hey Ms Aetherton."

"Hm."

"Thanks again and all, but what’s with this whole plot?" she glanced up. "You could’ve just gotten me mostly any gift, why go this far?"

"What’s so odd about that?" Morgana stared out the window with folded arms.

"It’s odd for you is what I mean."

Morgana barely gave a shrug, even less of a glance.

Fumeko scowled at the response. She furrowed her brows and tried to gauge the expression of the woman who showed very few. "Come to think of it, it makes sense for dad... but why’ve you been watching over me?"

"Cause your father’s the worrying sort," she said without thought.

Fumeko leered further... "That’s all there is to it?"

She continued looking out the window.

...

"Was Kira ever in Kria?" Fumeko kept her gaze.

"She’s flown far before kid, it’s possible she has."

"You know what I meant."

The carriage rumbled along.

"Enjoy your birthday kid, you only turn eighteen once."

Not even a twinge in her voice the brunette could discern. It seemed best to give up on this topic for now...

_

As she opened the door into her house, she was first greeted by the smell of, so many dishes? Each scent coalesced into a complex aroma and only then was she greeted by everyone inside.

Everyone had dressed up, semi-formally and the dining table... Oh the dining table... It was a wonder it supported the weight of so many dishes, including a giant steaming black lobster in the centre, butter melting off the shell.

Before her mouth could water, she was greeted with a Happy Birthday from those present—Tiffany included who had made it and said her birthday wishes to Fumeko, in her usual fashion.

Just as Fumeko was approaching the table, the doorbell rang and in came, "Sorry I’m late, you wouldn’t believe the traffic," Alicia arrived with a hamper of chocolates and sweets as a gift.

They had an extremely filling lunch, much of it ending up in the mouth of the birthday girl. Hour by hour passed by, to a point where Hotaru was cleaning up dishes in the sink.

Fumeko stood by the telephone, where Tiffany wrote something in paper and slipped it into her pocket, "Now one may commune with thee at mine leisure. Moreover," she took something out from her blazer pocket.

"Knew you were hiding something."

Tiffany offered the neatly wrapped box, "Noblest wishes adventuring detective, long may thou prosper by the blessing of the void."

"Thanks." Fumeko stopped herself from tearing into the package and opted to open it proper. It was another box with a black ribbon, with ’Alljewel’ written on it in bold.

Inside was a small palette of eyeshadows, a light and dark shade of lipstick, a stick of eyeliner and mascara. Based on the box and the make of the products, "How much was this?"

"Fret not for its worth in coin, rather its worth from one such as I to thyself," she proclaimed.

Fumeko looked once more at the contents of the box and closed it up with a sigh. Red specks began forming on her cheeks and she looked up through her lashes, "Hey Tiffany, I was wondering... What’s the 30th of February?"

Tiffany’s fingers tensed up and she went stiff. Her one eye about to wander away circled back and focused on the brunette.

Fumeko in response, stood upright and her eyes narrowed, "Well, what’s your answer?"

"It’s a-" she gulped. "Ha! Does thou wisheth mine companionship and ardour at the Lune Rose Floraison? I, Stella Vespertillio, the Child of Void, will grant thine desire. Fumeko Namora, tis a date," she laughed vivaciously.

Fumeko grabbed Tiffany’s arm in the air and forcefully pulled it down, "SHHHH!!" her face as red as a cherry.

"Ahem."

Fumeko turned like a caught rat, "What?" she faced Jotou.

Jotou blinked a few times, then shook her head. "I got you a gift," she pushed it into one of her hands stuck in a rat-like pose.

The brunette steadied and looked at the wrapped up cube. She tore the wrapping paper to reveal a black box with the symbol of a spade atop it. With a curious look, she opened up the lid that slid back.

She took what was in it from a small pillow and held it across her fingers—a rounded rectangular watch in a brassy frame, with a walnut brown leather strap that had markings across it.

The numbers in fancy-looking font varied in size around the white backdrop, while the two black hands ticked—the hour hand spade-shaped and minute hand needle-like.

Below the twelve it wrote, ’Knave of Spades, 980’ and above the six it wrote, ’Fumeko N.’, all in cursive lettering. "A watch..." she couldn’t stop staring at it.

"Full grain deer leather; that’s what the seller said anyway. I figured the detective probably needs a watch, why not a good one?" Jotou smiled. "Hope you like it."

"I love it..." her softer voice echoed as she wrapped it around her left wrist. She watched the charming little hands tick, "Thanks... All I gave you was a letter for yours..."

Jotou’s face scrunched, "Oh please, it’s not the price that matters. Besides, you’ve more than earned it after the year you’ve been through detective. Just take it as a thank you for existing," she giggled.

Fumeko smiled at her... "Still, it’s a bit much. You wouldn’t mind if I scratch it, right?"

"It’s yours Meko, a watch’s a watch at the end of the day. And a few scratches and marks just give it character," she brushed off.

"I’ll try to keep it clean—no promises," she replied and turned around- She turned back to see Tiffany at the dining table.

"Oh, apologies, I was merely a bit peckish," she answered and glanced back to the table of food.

"Are we giving gifts!?" Asobi giddied and ran up. She flourished her wand around and in what was her empty hand, appeared some sort of black leather holster that had a ribbon around it, in a poof of white butterflies.

"Is this for my dagger?" she took it.

"Mhm, mhm! Me and Hotaru got it together. It’s super crazy thick, so you can keep your dagger safely, instead of putting it in your sock or a pocket!"

Behind it, there was a hook that seemingly could also act as a pin to attach on it most articles of clothing. As the redhead walked up behind the elf, Fumeko replied, "Cheater. Both of you got one gift."

Hotaru grabbed Fumeko by the head, kissed her on the forehead, "I’ve been cooking since morning. Happy Birthday Meko," she ruffled her hair and let go.

The girl in purple blushed, "You get a pass..."

"Your dad got something too; other than all the food we ate," Hotaru mentioned. Just as she did, Kazuo walked out of the kitchen with a large cake he held by the base with both hands.

Two candles were lit—one of the number one and the other of the number eight. "Triple-layer coffee-chocolate cake," Kazuo stated as everyone gathered around the table.

"Not afraid of that fire are you?" Jotou teased in a whisper.

"Very funny," even as she said, the feeling of unease was hard to shake off. But she’s blown out candles and dealt with stoves just fine before.

With the song and a little cheer, Fumeko was asked to make a wish as she stood at the front of the cake. Her brown eyes settled on the flame...

A wish...

Closing her eyes, she blew out the candles in a single breath. And within minutes it was being devoured, from the caramel dripping from above to the chocolatey layer below.

She sat there, with her birthday cake in sections, looking at everyone. Her friends, her sister, Morgana, Alicia, her dad... How much louder it was than normal...

The home that always seemed so big, felt a little cramped all of a sudden—not that she minded it apparently. Lonely was the furthest word... Fumeko smiled.

How drastically had things changed from one birthday to the other... How many things would look different a year from now?

_

By the time night came and Fumeko returned to her room, she noticed a box of something sitting on her vanity... Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a bottle of brandy, still sealed within the hard box.

A tag on a little ribbon to the side read, ’Don’t tell the detective up top! ;)’ all written in pink ink. "When and how the hell did she get into my room...?"