Sore Subject (Mizuki)

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Sore Subject (Mizuki)
Date of Cutscene: 19 August 2014
Location: A Quiet World
Synopsis: Mizuki struggles with one of her archenemies: Mathematics.
Cast of Characters: 183

Another night in a library, but this seems to be a different sort of library - a smaller one adjoined to an opulent, reticent estate on the border of a town where the light is perpetually dim. On account of a lovely chandelier on the ceiling and a candle on a far table, however, this room is spared some of that ubiquitous darkness. At said table, Mizuki sits, her hands folded as she stares at... a book. Massive thing, really; the sort that you could probably use as a weapon if you so wished.

Sadly, it doesn't seem that this session is a 'read for pleasure'. Rather, Mimi looks quite disgruntled, shifting in her seat and rapping her fingers with ever increasing irritation. So what exactly is she reading? Well, you can't see it at that moment, but... ah! There we go. The cover lifts to reveal a line of words written in all capitals, big and bold as the rest of the cover is austere:


This is followed in smaller, finer print by:

Produced in the Archival District of Reason and Logic under the supervision of LUTHER CARTWRIGHT. With permissions from the venerable FERIS NIGHTINGALE.

In a moment of idleness, Mizuki had remembered someone mentioning how important understanding Calculus was to understanding spatial relationships. Naturally, that made her feel inadequate! After all, time is a dimension of space, one that is quite dear to her... and yet, she has such a minimal understanding of the Mathematics used to interpret and define these things in so many other worlds. She despises logic and arithmetic, to be sure, but she thought she could make an exception just this once. After all, the same person who brought this weakness to her attention had offered to help her learn, so she had to at least make an effort.

But oh, how that 'effort' had become an ordeal already. She had been here for hours upon hours that felt like weeks upon weeks, boggling at derivatives and burning her eyes in futile attempts to discern factorials. They all mocked her, and she knew that they did; after all, she was the detective. Quickly, she began to understand that this was not an educational work, but a tome of the devil, or at least someone who wanted deeply to make her suffer. A sort of eternal punishment, if you will.

But she would see to it that it could not be so eternal. Slamming the cover and hurling the book into a pile in the corner of the room, Mizuki leaps from her seat, sending it crashing backwards against the floor. Throwing her fists to her sides, she curses in righteous indignation, shouting to whatever demon was watching her now with delight: "You shall RUE THE DAY you started this battle with me! I'll have every one of these books OUTLAWED! I'll tear out the pages and write anxious teenage PROSE all over them! Have them relegated to the same corner of the room that houses ROMANTIC COMEDIES! But just you wait -- once I've had time, I'll think of yet more grisly fates! MARK MY WORDS, CONFOUND YOU!" With an emphatic huff, the illustrious author storms out of the room.

-- Meanwhile, and from another narrative viewpoint --

Palora leans against a wooden beam on an alcove overlooking Mizuki's desk, chewing an apple casually as her master get pissed off and leaves. She glances to Callia. "Hey, Cali?" The silver-haired goody-goody glances over at her. "Yes, dear sister~?" Palora swallows. "How many times has this happened now?" There's a small giggle.

"Oh, I think this is about the 9th time this month~."