Giving your hand to return the firm handshake, you quirked an eyebrow.

"Asher?"

"Yeah."

Why did that name sound so familiar to you? You tapped your forehead in an effort to trigger some sort of epiphany, but to no avail. 'Well, he says he's a reporter so maybe I worked with him when I was a junior reporter?' But you were sure you had never seen his face before you came to this town.

"Hey, did I know you before this mission existed?"

The boy tilted his head, almost in a cute way. Almost. "Nah, don't think so."

"Hm, okay."

"...Why is he so interested in you? The mayor's son..."

You scoffed. "I don't know! How am I supposed to know when he doesn't even know my name! Heck, you don't even know my na-"

"Y/N."

Your rambling faltered to a stop as you slowly looked his way. With your [e/c] eyes wide and mouth agape, you asked in disbelief. "How do you know that?"

He looked back at you and blinked as if you asked the most stupid question in existence. His dumbfounded expression slowly turned into a smug smirk as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Weeell," he said in a sing-song way. "I have my ways~"

"Weeell," you put your hands on your hips while mimicking his tone. "Your 'ways' are hella creepy~"

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile forming on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a heavy yawn roaring from your mouth.

"You know, those two creeps interrupted my beauty sleep." Not hesitating for a second, you grabbed his arms and pushed him outside your bedroom door. "So, g'night."

Asher flinched from the door's loud slam, before shuffling to his comparatively messier room.

You were jolted awake by the abrupt rapping at your door. "You up? Can I come in?" The deep yet strangely boyish voice asked from the other side of the elegant piece of wood.

On instinct, your hands grabbed each side of the pillow and went to fold them over your ears. But the silky texture of the pillowcase awoke you into reality. You could never afford the soft manchester. Indeed, this wasn't your bed. This wasn't your room. You were at a hotel in the cursed 28th Stop and you came here knowing that you might not wake up tomorrow.

That's right, you were on a suicide mission.

You leaped off the bouncy mattress, resisting the side of you that wanted to dive right back into the covers. Setting the bed and smoothing down the fray strands of hair, you turned on the lights and opened the door, allowing him in.

"Man, it's only been a single night yet my room looks like a pig sty." Asher pouted, as he scanned the tidy room.

"I just can't afford losing my things." You walked over to the window and opened the curtains. The all-too-familiar, yet not any less disturbing, sight reminded you of a question for your partner.

"Hey, on another topic, you know how you said something about the weird day-night system?"

Asher raised an eyebrow. "Yeah...?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm pretty damn sure I slept for at least 8 hours in total and...look outside!"

Hesitating, Asher walked over to a spot beside you and looked through the transparent glass. He froze as soon as his eyes met the dark sky. He closed the curtains and opened them again, repeating this behaviour several times before shaking his head.

"What...what is this?" He whispered, turning to you. "Where's the Sun?"

You shrugged. "You were the one who was so sure about how, and I quote, 'a day here is worth two days outside this town' or some confusing crap like that."

"No I...when I was asking for testimonies while doing my pre-trip research, one of the people said this and...," he bit his lip. "I believed him. But now that I think about it, it really doesn't make any sense that he should remember such a thing, since you're meant to lose your memories once you arrive at Waverley station, right?"

"Exactly. But I don't get it...why would he say such a thing?" Were there people who were deliberately spreading misinformation about the town? If so, why? Could it be possible that they were the Mayor's connections, who wanted to put off reporters who were investigating the town?

You both stood in silence, engaged in thought. After a good few minutes, Asher walked up to your notebook and flicked through the pages.

"We'll leave that problem for later. Since we'll be going to the upcoming party, we should prepare our investigation and start as soon as possible. But before we head off-"

"-I'll change from my pyjamas to my normal clothes. Yes, that sounds like a jolly good idea," you scratched your stomach and yawned. You had a feeling that this mission wouldn't be as quick as you foolishly anticipated, so you needed to shop for clothes too...which required money. 'I can't be depending on him like this all the time. Do I need to get a temporary job here?'

He chuckled, moving closer to you to ruffle your head. "Alright, sure thing. But straight after this, I need to quickly go somewhere with this," he flopped your notebook. "You alright with that?"

You narrowed your eyes. Having known him for just over one day, you still didn't fully trust him. Who knew where he was planning to go? 'Then again', you thought. 'how could trust be built between us if I keep doubting him every few seconds?'

Sighing, you nodded. Leaving your room, he went to his own and closed the door. You locked your bedroom door, walked to your pile of clothes and changed back into them. You neatly folded the pyjamas and organised them in a pile on top of the set of drawers. After you set up the bed, you dusted off your hands and opened your door, jumping at the sight of the boy standing right in front of you. Looking closely, you noticed the black straps he held onto and the top of the black backpack behind him.

He gave a goofy smile and raised a thumbs-up. "Okay, ready?"

You adjusted your beret. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The whirring of the photocopier rung in Asher's ears, eventually humming to a stop. He pulled up the lid and turned over another page of the sky blue notebook, putting down the lid and pressing the button again. As streams of light momentarily emerged from the gaps in the machinery's edges, his mind zoned out of the monotonous process and he involuntarily delved into the realm of his thoughts.

He didn't want to waste any more time on this menial task. He and Y/N could have been preparing more for their project in the meantime. But he didn't want to increase the chances of stumbling upon the Mayor's son and that Gatekeeper man. A part of him couldn't stand seeing their faces again, particularly Gael. If it weren't for Y/N and his ultimate mission of gathering as much information as possible, he would have never accepted that party invitation. No, he and Y/N wouldn't be here at all then.

Perhaps it was his intense paranoia for being found out as reporters, that he grew such an intolerance to being sighted by him. Perhaps it was because there was something especially odd about him. Or perhaps it was his mild jealousy that the man had an interest in Y/N.

'...Wait, what?'

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks. 'No Asher, you silly goose. Why would you even think of that? You merely find her slightly endearing. Who are you to care that a man like Gael had...laid eyes...on her...'

His thoughts then submerged into the memory of you hugging him. The scene was painted before his eyes. The intimate touch, the warmth that spread in his chest and the fluttering feeling within his abdomen.

No one had made him feel like this before.

It was strange. It was foreign. Yet, it was...enticing.

But was this okay? Why was he feeling these things for a borderline stranger? Where were these feelings and thoughts coming from? And why were they for someone he was using to make his article-writing much easier - a means to an end? There was nothing between the two of you, no reason for him to be jealous of anything.

But even then, the warm and giddy sensation persisted.

"Yo."

Your voice startled him as he turned around to face you. You stood right outside the room, one hand holding the doorknob and the other resembling a peace sign. The night backdrop was littered with stars, outlining your form with a luminous silver.

"Um, Y/N, I thought you were meant to be outside, looking out for anyone suspicious."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Technically I am outside because I haven't stepped into the room yet. I'm just checking on you, that's all. Besides it was getting boring," you looked around the room. "but, I guess, less boring than this place."

The cramped room you two were in merely consisted of a few chairs, brown walls, a flickering light hanging from the dilapidated ceiling and a small photocopier in the far corner. It looked like a storage room, with dust covering each piece of paraphernalia except for the photocopier, that seemed more new. The beige carpet had a faint stench, with blotches of dark brown splattered around the area. Behind the photocopier was a door. Faint red marks blighted the battered wood and scratches surrounded its borders.

You looked back to Asher, who looked almost the same as when he left your hotel room, save for the heavy backpack he was carrying. His features were tensed as he glared at the photocopier lid with pure concentration. The second that there was a beeping noise, he swiftly opened it and flipped over to the next page. You held back a laugh at how serious he was taking this job, which, when you thought about it, was pretty smart.

"It's not a bad idea, you know?" You leaned against the door frame, crossing your arms. "Photocopying the precious set of notes, which would be an absolute disaster to lose. You did good, man."

Smirking, he brushed his nails against his shirt and blew on them. "I may or may not be a genius. But, you know, I probably am."

Finishing the last page with a final loud beep, he took out the notebook and walked towards you. He held it out to you and you gingerly took it, placing it in your coat pocket. Asher looked at the pocket and tapped his chin.

"Huh, that pocket seems pretty big. I know I have my bag, but what if we need to carry even more things? We might need to get you one as well."

"Ah yes. But remember, young one..." Holding a hand to his shoulder, you opened your mouth. "...I'm broke."

"Mmhmm, and guess who has two entire coins remaining?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "I have more than enough to buy you a satchel and get us a good breakfast. I don't know about you, but I'm starving after not eating anything after the train trip yesterday."

As if your stomach snapped out of its stupor after the mention of food, a loud grumble emanated from your abdomen. Before you could excuse yourself, it followed with an even louder string of unholy lurches.

Asher's shoulders shook and his face reddened. A long squeak, like a balloon being held by its neck with air coming out, emerged from the gap between the hands he held to his mouth. He couldn't hold it back as thunderous laughter erupted from his mouth and tears streamed down the sides of his face.

"...Dude, it wasn't that funny."

"But..b-but your face!"

Your cheeks burned as you dragged him out of the room and shut the door closed. You stepped through the long grass, ignoring the continuous banshee shrieks from behind until you eventually reached the back door of the newspaper centre. You let go of Asher's arm, whose howling slowly died down to occasional chuckles.

'Sheesh, it's as though he hadn't laughed in ages.'

His amused hazel eyes met yours and you immediately turned back to the grey rusty door. It was a good thing you remembered the location of this building, which the Mayor showed during the tour.

After you had left the hotel, Asher proposed the idea of photocopying your notebook and you both spent almost half an hour asking around town for the nearest office. It was getting hopeless. Most of the townspeople ignored you or sent wary or hateful glances towards your direction. The people who did have the decency to answer were visitors who were on the train with you. So they hardly knew their way around town as well.

Asher and you were about to give up until a kind elderly man by name of 'Randall' suggested going to the newspaper centre. Which indeed worked.

Despite getting faces similar to that of the townspeople from earlier, the person at the reception desk allowed you to use the old photocopier in their storage room, which suspiciously received a few snickers from eavesdropping editors, managers and executives.

Though after seeing the perfectly good black-and-white photocopy and the original notebook, as well as your and Asher's appearance, you couldn't see anything that was worth snickering about.

You knocked on the door which, shortly after, creaked open. The same woman from behind the counter stood in the doorway, smirking.

"So how was it, girlie?"

From behind the woman, you heard a few distant shouts.

"Wait, they're still alive?"

"No no, death wasn't part of the rumour...unfortunately..."

"Dammit, I hope they're at least injured in some way."

You forced a polite smile. "It worked perfectly fine, miss. Thank you very much for letting us use it."

"Pfft, of course, that broken thing- wait, perfectly fine?!" The woman's face transmuted into one of shock. She blinked and raised her eyebrows. "Not only that but...nothing happened to you?"

"I guess...? Don't know about him though. He seems a little loopy, or is that all the time?" You felt a light punch on your arm as if he intended for it to not hurt a bit.

Murmurs arose from behind the woman, whose mouth gaped wide open. "Nothing at all?"

"Nope."

"No red on your hands, no lights turning off, no screeches and eerie moans?"

"Nope, none of tha- wait. Wait wait wait, what are you implying-"

The door slammed shut, leaving you and Asher stunned. Replaying the events that occurred from the start of the day till now, your shock evolved into annoyance. A similar glint of irritation shone in the boy's eyes as well.

"I don't know about you, Asher, but I'm getting sick and tired of the baseless spite these citizens have towards us. It doesn't take much to know that they were quite deliberately trying to put us in a potentially life-threatening situation, even though nothing happened and that it was only a rumour...or so it seems."

"Perhaps not everyone is like this? I mean, you saw the mayor and Gatekeeper, right?"

Lips pursed, you looked at him from the corner of your eye. "I guess Mr Gatekeeper is okay, but the Mayor kept correcting himself from calling us 'outsiders'. As if it's a derogatory term for those who don't belong to this city. He was being overly friendly too. I get the vibe that he's keeping up some sort of a façade, but I can't really tell."

You looked down at your original notebook and folded the corner for future photocopying, then clicked your pen and made a note on a new page.

'Most townspeople respond to outsiders asking them for directions with ignorance, caution or hatred. This hatred was experienced by a female reporter, Y/N L/N, and an accompanying (dorky and creepy yet somewhat cute and handsome??? I have complex feelings don't ask) reporter, who were merely looking for a photocopier. Said photocopier appeared to be in a decrepit room which, from the reaction and statements received by the woman who directed them there, was allegedly meant to involve "red on [one's] hands...lights turning off [and] screeches and eerie moans". Perhaps this is a rumour? Or perhaps the room has a history? After all, there were weird red markings on the door inside it, behind the photocopier, and there were dark blotches on the carpet. Was there a murder? Or just a bad paint job? Find out next time on Y/N's Notebook Adventures: Suicide Mission Edition!

"What are you writing?" Asher craned over from behind you, but you turned away. You were terrified that he would read the embarrassing note you scribbled out. "Alright alright, but you know that since we're working together I'll have to read it eventually."

.

.

.

You furiously scrawled out the unnecessary remark about Turnip Head, cursing your unsolicited emotions for translating onto the page. The boy's protests in the background strengthened the force of your grip and quickened the speed of your scribbles.

Suddenly, the pen's black ink slashed through the paper and stained the next page.

"..."

"..."

A small droplet escaped from your tear ducts.

'At least my paragraph is still legible.'

You and Asher were sitting on a bench near the Town Square, where you met the shady businessman from before. Before coming here, you managed to painstakingly rewrite your corrected paragraph onto a clean page. Afterwards, the two of you went to a shop called 'Humberville', which had almost everything purchasable in different aisles.

Going to the bag section, you had to pre-order your satchel due to it running out of stock. However, the shop manager, who was a kind lady by the name of Ruth Humberville, told you to come back in a few hours for pick up since the supply truck was supposed to come this morning.

You had also stopped at a nearby café and ordered [favourite breakfast] which the boy treated you to. It was then that you discovered three things.

Firstly, the golden seemingly magical coins can be traded with coins of lesser value, according to the price of what someone is purchasing. You saw this when Asher received a coin that was slightly smaller than the one he gave to the cashier when he bought your and his breakfast. It also meant that the hotel rooms must have been highly expensive considering that Asher gave two "whole" coins and never received change.

On that point, secondly, the coins that were originally in Asher's possession and the coin that the businessman had on the train were of an extremely high value. The boy found this out when he took the coins he obtained from ex-visitors to the jewellery before embarking on this mission. Strangely, the jeweller didn't disclose exactly how much they were worth. But when he came home, he discerned to have 'lost' three coins.

Finally, if a coin is held by someone who is not its original owner for more than a few seconds, it would manifest an intense burning sensation in the person's skin while causing no actual physical harm. That was why Asher always had to rapidly pass the coins to a cashier and why the cunning businessman on the train reacted like that earlier.

Now that you thought about it, back on the train, it definitely took at least a minute for you to take the coin from the businessman and give it to Gael...yet you felt no pain. Why hadn't the same thing happened to you?

Such a thought led to an even more telling question...

Why was Gael on the train in the first place?

Clenching your eyes shut, you shook your head of the budding questions that throbbed against your brain. There were countless of questions to answer on this mission, but there was no use in thinking and stressing about them all at once.

Sighing, you took a moment to compose yourself. You leaned your head against the oak tree that stood tall behind you, gazing at the stars that embellished the night sky. A cool breeze