Another gulp, the fifth glass of water down the hatch. Every drop making those fuzzy memories clearer and clearer. A hand came to Jotou's side, offering bread.
Jotou looked to the wrinkly hand. Slowly, Jotou took the food, still having the scent of the oven it was cooked in. Jotou bit into it; maybe the rumbling in Jotou's stomach would finally stop.
Not a crumb fell as Jotou ate it all, before peering right. An old man, light reflecting off his scalp as grey fuzz sided his head. 'Who is this guy…?'
Jotou gulped it down, seeing the man's bloodshot eyes. Stains that wafted alcohol on his clothes. He wordlessly stared at Jotou…
Jotou's eyes averted to peer down the garments of white Jotou wore. Heavier chest grabbing Jotou's attention first. 'I'm… this isn't my… body! What is going on!?'
One by one, Jotou could tell the differences—the dress, the bangs, the long blonde hair caressing the back of her neck, reaching till her back. She reached to scratch at her nape to remove the sensation of hair skimming against it.
The old man stretched a black band between his fingers. He reached his hand towards her…
Jotou faced him, hand moving inch by inch to take what he was offering. Two needles hitting would make more sound in this room than them.
Jotou stretched the band, toying with it. 'Oh… a hair-tie. Should be simple, enough.' Jotou held the blonde hair back tying it together… barely; a messy ponytail.
'Where am I…? Did I…?' It was all fuzzy. A bright white light, then maybe the sound of a horn honking. Metal crashing and then- Jotou was suffocating in a coffin… Jotou's thoughts still sounded, like Jotou.
"An… Anas…tasia?"
Jotou looked to the man and then around the room, "…Me?" Jotou asked—her voice elegant.
"You, don't remember me?" his hand shivered and voice quaked; the old man barely blinked.
Jotou looked down again—palish-peach skin, as smooth as porcelain. Jotou's lips felt slightly thinner. 'This doesn't make any- Am I? A girl? And where the hell am I!? Of course I don't know this guy!'
She turned to the old man, bangs still bothering her eyes, "No…"
His eyes widened. The man's hand shivered as he put it over his chest, "I, I am your father; John; John Princely. You, you passed away my dear," he pointed to the open casket at the front of the small room.
Nobody else was in sight—white walls and one or two doors to the sides. Jotou sat, glancing around from the front row of chairs. At least thirty chairs were arranged behind Jotou and the old man.
Wooden double doors sat at the end of the rows of chairs, marking the exit. Whilst six or seven chairs seemed shifted, the rest seemed to be arranged perfectly. 'Not many people for, a funeral…'
Flowers were gifted at the foot of the steps that led to the coffin. One bouquet in particular, made of pink flowers, stood out from the rest by size. Jotou looked back to the man in confusion, "My father?"
"Your, your chest, it was, it was stabbed," John stuttered.
Jotou's brows knitted before glancing down to her own collar. 'Am I really here? Is this some coma dream? I can't just… look beneath a woman's clothing. I guess, it's me? Ugh, stop being an idiot Jotou, just look.'
Bringing one shoulder in front of John's stare, she checked under her clothes to see, no cut nor wound. The same porcelain skin, "There's, no blood; and, no scar either."
John's mouth grew agape, a dead-eyed stare. Tears formed under the heavy bags as he got up with shaky legs.
"Woosh!" The wooden double doors burst open. Jotou's blonde hair slapped across the air in a floral aroma, as she held onto the back of her chair.
The first face she saw before; the scrawny funeral director with a full black cloak and curly almond hair who opened the coffin. The director pointed to Jotou.
Five armoured men came in through the doors, clanging against the floor towards her and John's direction.
They halted, one of them looking to John. "Is this confirmation?" the armoured man questioned, standing right next to them—short brown hair and sunburnt skin.
John nodded, "I do not think this is my daughter; I think she is a, a… a velatos…" recoiling from Jotou, he took a few steps back.
'Veh-La-Toes? What the hell is that?'
"Anastasia Princely," the armoured man called. Jotou turned to him, breaking out of thought.
"You are under arrest under the suspicion that you are related to the Velatos Case. Do not attempt to resist and you have the right to a lawyer," the man raised his arm.
'WHAT!? I have to say something, what the hell's going on!?'
The others stepped forward, helmets on their heads as they handcuffed Jotou's hands behind her back.
"I, I'm not Anastasia whoever, I don't know what's happening! Where am I!? What country am I in!? What's going on?" Jotou's eyes bubbled.
"Silence, you are under arrest of the Krialin and you will be taken to the station at this very moment. You can make your plea there."
'Krialin? Great, I have no clue about anything. I better shut up before I make something worse.' Too puzzled to argue, she was taken past her 'father' and the funeral director, out the door.
'Too bright.' The sunlight beamed right into her pupils. The fresh scent of saltwater drifted past her nose as she gradually relaxed her eyes. The grey bricks her bare feet walked upon—the streets.
She looked up, surrounded by the armoured people obstructing her field of view. The brick buildings in the area could use some paint, none of them going above three or four stories.
The intersections of the paths she passed, leading to wooden roads where the sound of waves echoed. One or two carts passed by with horses… that had six legs…
The end of its snout had pincers instead of mouths, "Ew…" Jotou accidentally spoke, staring at the creatures. She peered around, people going about their business, some giving a quick glance to the blonde being escorted.
Not a car in sight, not even a phone in anyone's hand. Chains rattling as bicycles went by. Not a single piece of equipment anyone had could even remotely be considered to be modern.
'What country is this? It doesn't even- Wait, if this isn't my body… Could it be that this isn't my world…?'
Some tried to peek closer through the wall of armoured men. Jotou made eye contact with some stranger before tucking her head in.
"What'd that pretty thing do?" "Her in jail? Wouldn't last a week." "Doesn't look like a criminal. Ugh, who knows these days." "Probably some exhibitionist thing," she heard whispers passing by.
Her pace quickened, facing the ground. Before long she was taken into the station; a front desk, dozens of people cladded in the same armour sitting at desks with stacks of paper on most.
Some talked with glasses of water, some had their armour put away and Jotou could see jail cells at the back. A single rotary telephone ringing a bit out of her sight.
Led aside, her handcuffs were taken off. "Please wait here while the Krialin process your case," the helmetless man requested.
'Krialin is just the word for police then… I think.'
She glanced around, cushioned chairs where she was asked to wait. Jotou sighed rubbing her wrists, a minor imprint by the cuffs. She took a seat, nervously looking about.
She kept feeling her wrist and went up her arm, pressing and examining her flesh. She kept going till she felt up her shoulders which was a little firmer but still like jelly.
She sighed… 'What in the world is going on? I'm in someone else's body and I've been arrested? Nobody's really told me much. I need help and the police- or Krialin don't seem interested.'
She peered down, her hand went up her shoulder, curiously and slowly it drew towards her chest…
"Hello! You must be Anastasia Princely, correct?"
"AGH!" Jotou gave a sharp inhale.
A girl appeared beside Jotou out of nowhere. Jotou cleared her throat, composing herself, "No, my name is Jotou Howllett.
I don't know who this Anastasia Princely is, but it's clear I'm in her body; don't ask me how, I have no clue," she quickly ran her mouth.
"Hm… So, you are part of the Velatos Case… Well, I'm Fumeko Namora, Detective," she gave her hand to shake. Voice a little nasally.
Jotou shook her hand out of curtesy. A purple headband but what was it holding back exactly? The dark brown hair framing her peach face probably still bothered her brown eyes.
Her hair went down a petite frame till her lower back. Scissor marks were still noticeable on hair near her face. A purple pinafore over a white shirt with poofy shoulders; black shoes and socks barely over her ankles.
"I have no clue what this 'velatos' means. It's why I'm arrested though," Jotou explained.
"That's why I'm here. To investigate and figure out who or what you are. You can consult my help …if you want it of course," Fumeko faced away, raising her palm in the other direction.
"It's a pretty good offer from a detective of my skill. I guarantee to help you figure out everything you need to—and will ever—need to know," Fumeko closed her eyes in a smile.
"Oh. You will? Sure then," Jotou shrugged.
"…REALLY!?" her raised palm, the theatrical look away alongside the smug grin all disappeared as Fumeko jumped into Jotou's face.
Jotou recoiled backwards… 'Must be an important case I guess.'
"You're the first person who's actually offered to help me while everyone else hasn't even told me where I am. I might not get a second chance," Jotou slowly sat back up.
"Ahem," Fumeko stood upright, composing herself. "Okay Jotou," Fumeko clasped her hands together, closing her eyes, "I promise to help you through all of this, till the end!"
"Thank you… So, where do we start?" she looked around the station, then back to the detective.
"Mmm…" Fumeko put her hand to her chin, "Your file's a little complicated from what I read just now… So… we should tell the commissioner that you're now under my custody, so that we're free to explore and figure out what's happening."
"Alright then, take me to the commissioner," Jotou got up taller than Fumeko. The hint of a smile on the blonde. 'This girl can help at least.' Odd looks went over the two from the rest of the Krialin…
_
"…I've looked up her files and I can handle this case Commissioner Wellers, she doesn't remember anything," Fumeko assured.
The two now stood deeper into the labyrinth of paperwork and tables, in front of the commissioner; who listened with his eyes glazed over the entire time.
His green hair the same style as most of the men in here—short. While the women in here had their hairs cut short as well or tied up neatly; the odd one out being the brunette Jotou stood with right now…
He took his hands away from his face to reveal a clean-shaven face and a chiselled jawline before he sighed, "Ms Princely, or Ms Howllett, did you make a verbal contract with Ms Namora?"
"Verbal contract? Like a deal? Yeah, I guess," Jotou looked back and forth between Fumeko and Commissioner Wellers.
He groaned…
"Twelve hours, that's all I need and I can figure all of this out! I'll prove to you I'm a good detective on my first day!" Fumeko continued with furrowed brows.
Jotou turned, "IT'S YOUR FIRST DAY!?"
"Not technically, but details, details," Fumeko flapped her hand in front of Jotou.
"She arrived yesterday into the station, giving a suitable letter to accept her into the Krialin, but she lacked any of the training. Thus, her acceptance was put on hold till further notice," the commissioner explained.
Fumeko glanced back to Jotou, "I am still however, associated to the Krialin!"
"By a very loose technicality…" he corrected.
'Are you kidding me…?' Jotou glared at her before looking to the commissioner, "Why did you ask me if I made a 'verbal contract', whatever that means?"
"Because verbal contracts are marked by the law and recorded by the Maleficos Ordinate's contract division through magical means."
"And what happens if someone breaks that contract?"
"The stronger the terms of the verbal contract, the stronger the penalty of breaking one. If both parties agree to let go of the contract, then it's void; or if one of the criteria is impossible to be fulfilled by one person."
"But don't worry; I promised to help you and I will!" Fumeko guaranteed after all.
"I don't see an actual legal reason this cannot take place. As far as the papers are concerned right now, Anastasia Princely died four days ago; you're basically a ghost.
And even if you are connected to the Velatos Case, we only have suspicions and not hard evidence; not to mention you haven't shown any hostility. So, twelve hours, then we do our own investigation," the commissioner gave.
"Ha! Yes! Are we still good to go?" Fumeko peered to Jotou.
"I already agreed and even if you are an amateur," Jotou sighed, "What I said didn't change; you are the first person who offered."
"Hmph! I promise you, I'm better than some amateur!"
_
Jotou and Fumeko found themselves outside the station. Jotou finally took a good look around, still wearing the white attire from her funeral.
"Welcome to Kria! The City of New Beginnings!" Fumeko threw her hands in the air.