Shousetsu Bang*Bang

by Domashita Romero (地下ロメロ)
illustrated by iianbe



Elliot woke up with the terrible sensation that he'd become seventeen years old again.

Fortunately when he rolled over, away from the light coming through his window, he was greeted by all the aches and pops and grouchy sour-mouthedness that he relied on from his body to keep him convinced he was actually closer to thirty. So reliable, the old body, even if his mind wanted to play silly buggers with him, blending into those first moments of wakefulness whatever dream about ink on skin he'd been having. He'd opened his eyes and the first thing he'd seen had been words written on the inside of his forearm, black over the muted blue line of his vein, and that was nothing he'd done since he'd been in high school and still wearing too much eyeliner on a daily basis. He closed his eyes again.

( ... )
 

by Domashita Romero (地下ロメロ)
illustrated by iianbe



PART ONE

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by Domashita Romero (地下ロメロ)



1938

"Archaeology is the search for fact. Not truth." It was how Dr. William Ford began every one of his introductory undergraduate courses; it usually came followed by a rattle of how if any of his students were pursuing a career of adventure and treasure hunting, they were more likely in for a life of bronchial infections from inhaling dust, and back pains from hunching over the tiniest shard of something that might have been of interest to someone two thousand years ago. It discouraged some of them. Some.

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by Domashita Romero (地下ロメロ)



The last few minutes of a class period before the chime rang always seemed twice as long as all of the rest of the minutes of the class put together, and that day, Mizuhara Takuya was certain it seemed to be taking even longer than usual. The three minutes left until the lunch period were stretching into at least an hour, but for once in his life, Takuya he was unsure if this time-distortion phenomenon was a bad thing. He watched the slim black minute hand do its faint shimmy of edging towards the next tick on the clock and reasoned with himself that it'd be no great crime if he just forgot the whole thing; in fact, it'd be better for everyone involved.

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