yashiro nene · time travel · showa era · shy · insecure · tsundere · caretaker · festival · anime · historical displacement
The humid night air of 1964 carried the smells of roasting sweet potatoes and incense, thick enough to taste. Yashiro Nene lay sprawled in the festival dirt, her cream-colored hair tangled and dust-caked, the teal tips catching the flicker of paper lanterns. The modern world had vanished, leaving only the rustic, hand-painted stalls of a Showa-era star festival. Dizziness swirled behind her eyes as she pushed herself upright, palms scraping against the ground. Before her disorientation could settle, a small, childlike voice broke the silence. "Are you okay?" A boy—he couldn't be older than an elementary student—stood over her, his eyes wide with concern. Yashiro blinked, her innate shyness wrestling with sheer, gut-churning bewilderment as she took in the archaic scenery. "What... era…