Rika glanced sideways at Michael as they walked the dirt path toward the edge of the village.
"So," she said, her voice even, "you wanted to come to the junkyard."
Michael slid down the small slope leading into the lot, gravel crunching under his shoes. "Yeah. I wanna see something."
Rika followed, her sandals making softer sounds on the dirt. The Hinamizawa junkyard spread out before them—a wide, cluttered field of rusting metal, broken furniture, and machines that had long since lost their purpose.
Michael took a deep breath through his nose.
"Huh… no actual trash smell."
Rika stepped up beside him, hands on her hips.
"This is where we put anything not natural. Metal, plastic, old equipment. But… why did you want to come here?"
Michael gave her a half-smile—half truth, half lie.
"Looking for a weapon."
Her eyebrow arched. "A weapon?"
He nodded. "You said I'd be meeting some… important people. People who might be my death."
Rika's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Nipah~. That wasn't exactly what I said."
Michael ignored the jab, scanning the piles. Most of it was useless—twisted pipes, dented sheets of steel, an old sewing machine with no cord. But then something caught his eye: a wooden handle sticking out from under a stack of cracked crates.
Expecting maybe a broom or a staff, he grabbed it and pulled.
It wasn't a stick. It wasn't a staff.
It was an axe.
Michael blinked at it. "Okay… who the hell throws an axe in the junkyard?"
Michael turned the axe over in his hands, testing its weight.
"So… new kid comes in, everything's fine until the big festival, then things 'change.' That's vague enough to be terrifying."
Rika's smirk didn't falter. "You'll get used to terrifying. Or… you won't."
Michael gave her a flat look. "Comforting."
She started walking deeper into the junkyard, stepping over a rusted bicycle frame. "The detective I mentioned—if Keiichi meets her early, the loop can swing in a… different direction. Sometimes better. Sometimes worse. Depends on what she tells him… or what she hides."
Michael followed, still carrying the axe. "And let me guess—no matter which way it swings, someone still ends up dead."
Rika glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. "Not someone. Several someones. This is Hinamizawa, after all."
They stopped near an old pile of farming tools, half-buried under weeds. A faint breeze rattled loose metal, and for a moment, Michael swore he heard whispering—too quiet to make out, but close enough to raise the hair on his neck.
He gripped the axe handle tighter. "So… where does your friend-with-the-bat usually hang out?"
Rika's gaze flicked toward the village. "If the loop's running normal, we'll see him tomorrow. But—"
She froze, eyes narrowing toward the far end of the junkyard. "—unless he's already here."
Michael followed her gaze. Among the piles of scrap, something—or someone—moved. Not a full figure, just a shadow slipping between the junk.
And then, a glint of metal in the sunlight.
Not a bat.
A blade.
Michael pulled on Rika hand, pulling her behind a Pile of trash hiding, as he was expecting something anything, but then a girl walked passed them.
hair is a is reddish-orange colour, short, and asymmetrical with longer pieces in the front and spiky bangs. She has striking light blue eyes, Her outfit includes a white dress with a high collar, puffed sleeves, a long slit down the middle, and purple bows, along with a white hat and black thigh-high socks with brown boots.
[Insert image of Rena]
"Rena, you really wanted me to come here?".
Michael looked up too see a Boy, just his age, slender boy with brown hair and either blue, purple, or grey eyes, he is wearing a Red vest over a black sleeveless shirt, green shorts with a black belt, and red shoes.
[Insert image of Keiichi]
"Yes, I wanted to find something and take eit Home~"
Keiichi sighed as he spoke. "What can she even find here?"
Michael looked at Rika as he spoke. "So, that's Keiichi".
Rika looked up, as she notice the sword wasn't even a sword, as she saw in Rena hand was just a Pipe. "Yes, and we over reacted".
Michael looked at her as he spoke. "So, what now?".
Rika looked at him, as she spoke. "Depends, do you wanna come out first, or wait for them to pass bye?"
Michael looked at her as he spoke. "I will let them pass by, I don't want to explain why I am here too, two strangers, also what's the deal with the Orange hair girl?"
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "That's Rena, she like collecting Cure things, untill it's after the cotren Festival".
Michael leaned closer to Rika, still crouched behind the junk pile. "Collects cute things? In a junkyard?"
Rika kept her voice low. "Yes. And by cute, she means… anything. Old chairs, broken TVs, traffic cones…"
Michael raised an eyebrow. "…and rusty pipes apparently."
Out in the open, Rena was turning the pipe over in her hands like she'd just discovered buried treasure. "Hauu~ This is so cute! Keiichi-kun, I'm taking it home~"
Keiichi rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Rena… it's a pipe."
"It's a cute pipe~" she insisted, clutching it to her chest.
Michael mouthed silently to Rika: "…She needs therapy."
Rika smirked. "So do you."
Before Michael could respond, Rena's head suddenly snapped in their direction—fast. Too fast. Her light blue eyes scanning the junk piles like a hawk that just spotted a rabbit.
Michael froze. "She… can't see us, right?"
Rika didn't answer.
Rena took one step closer, tilting her head. "Keiichi-kun… did you hear something…?"
Keiichi glanced around lazily. "Probably a rat."
Rena's smile widened. "…Then let's catch it~"
Michael's eyes widened. "Nope." He grabbed Rika's wrist, and they both ducked deeper behind the pile.
Rika leaned toward him, whispering with a hint of amusement. "Welcome to Hinamizawa, Michael."
Michael let her go, as he saw the two people go. "Will, at least she is a Cute girl".
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Cute, until she starts the Killing after the cotren Festival".
Michael looked at her as she spoke. "Please, how dangerous can she be"
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Have you ever had your head cut up, by a girl, laughing with a Cleaver, because let me tell you, I have".
Michael probably froze for a second after hearing that, then gave her one of those slow "wait… what?!" looks.
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Yeah she is scary good with a Cleaver, don't ask me how she got Soo good, even I don't know, after 500 Loops".
Michael would probably blink a few more times, trying to figure out if Rika was joking or not.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Five hundred… loops? And you're still hanging around her? Either you're insane, or you've got some kind of death wish."
Rika gave him a flat look. "Or maybe I'm the only one who can stop her when it happens."
Michael tilted his head, half-curious, half-nervous. "So what, you're telling me if she gets that 'look' in her eyes, I should… what? Run? Hide? Offer her cookies?"
Rika sighed. "Pray. Or get out of town before the festival fireworks start."
Michael chuckled nervously. "Right… Cute girl, homicidal tendencies, murder festival. Totally normal small-town stuff."
Rika's expression didn't change. "You'll believe me when you hear the laughter."
And that's when a faint, cheerful giggle echoed from somewhere down the street — way too early for festival night.
Michael froze. "…That wasn't her, right?"
Rika's grip on her bag tightened. "Oh, I really hope it isn't."
Michael just looked at her as he sighed. "You are the most weirdest person I know".
Rika looked at him, as she spoke. "Trust me, you haven't seen the traps I build around the Village".
Michael blinked once. Then twice.
"…Traps?" he repeated slowly, like he was hoping he misheard.
Rika nodded, her tone perfectly casual. "Pitfalls, wire snares, a few spikes—nothing lethal. Usually."
Michael just stared at her, expression completely deadpan. "Usually?"
Rika tilted her head innocently, hands behind her back. "Depends on the loop. Sometimes, I forget to take the sharp ones out."
Michael ran a hand down his face. "Right. So let me get this straight—you're a twelve-year-old shrine maiden with five hundred lifetimes of trauma, who sets up booby traps around town like some tiny purple-haired Rambo?"
Rika gave him a smug little smile. "It keeps me busy."
Michael groaned. "Yeah, I'll say. Next thing you'll tell me is you have landmines in your backyard."
Rika blinked. "…I used to."
Michael just turned to the camera that wasn't there and muttered, "Why did I move here again?"
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy