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Fall 2022 

 

Neko brought a swirl of leaves with her when she entered the bookstore, red and gold that matched the apparent color of her hair. Dressed in a second-hand sweater that hung loose and long on her small frame over baggy jeans, her shoes scraped lightly against the floormat as she walked inside and wrinkled her nose. The place certainly smelled like it might have what she wanted; and of old books, too. Running her hands through her hair, she walked inside, wrapped in an ever-present swirl of magic that made her look like any other Asian teen out on the town.

 

She looked around briefly, smiled at the clerk behind the desk, then immediately disappeared into the stacks. She kept her eyes out, looking for sections helpfully labeled "Oriental" or "Asian" or "Japanese", knowing they might be her best bet. There were sections about the Second World War, of course, but she didn't want to look at those unless she had to. 

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