"It's been exactly a year today."

It was a sterile hospital room with no sound or noise. The window was open, letting gentle rays of sun enter. The walls were white, and so was the floor.

Near the window, Kawashima Shinzo sat on a steel chair. His untamed warm brown hair matched the hue of his sharp gaze. He wasn't looking pleased.

"It's been a year since you entered a coma," he whispered. He was sitting near a comfortable bed, on which a little girl was lying motionless. The monitor beside her was beeping every couple of seconds, breaking the silence with it.

Shinzo moved his gaze a little away from her frozen figure. His eyes fell on a photo lying on a nearby table. The same girl with her mother—an exact replica—and her father, a typical Asian man. They looked so happy in it. A complete family.

Shinzo sighed with resignation signed on his breath. He stood up, placing a bouquet of pink flowers nearby her. They smelled sweet and fragrant. He walked towards the door, keeping his steps noiseless.

"If I remember correctly, your favorite color was pink."

He opened the door with respectful calmness and stepped outside. He was a tall man, wearing a regal black suit and tight pants. His clothes spoke of elegance.

The way he walked outside the hospital was like a royal flag waving after victory. It was elegant too. He opened his eyes, tilting his head slightly.

The woman from the girl's family photograph was in front of him—Takahashi Akane. Her shimmering white hair cascaded down to her waist, as her blue eyes ignited in anger. She wasn't pleased to encounter Shinzo.

"Why," she growled. "Why did you come here?" Her question cut his heart.

"I... Don't know how to answer that. Aoi, be in a coma or not, is still a child. I can at least check her well-being from time to time." He tried explaining his presence.

Akane was still burning with rage. "Haruki was just a little late because his back hurt." She was referring to her husband. "Or else, we would have come earlier than you."

"Okay?" Shinzo tapped her head, surprising her. He was as nonchalant as ever, walking away with great pride. "I brought her pink flowers. I hope you brought a complementary color."

Both of his cheeks blushed as he walked towards his long black car, shining like obsidian under the beaming sun. He subtly smiled. "She's beautiful when angry. If Haruki wasn't my friend, I would have killed him and married Akane." He sat in the car, sighing.

"Though her anger is justified. I am the reason for Aoi's coma, after all."

***

It was a dimly lit room, with a quality wooden table in the center. The chandelier above cast down a warm golden light, as many candles placed on the stone walls did the same. Shinzo walked in, eyes closed.

"Welcome, Kawashima Shinzo." An old, wrinkly man greeted him, who was already seated firmly. "Take a seat, please."

Shinzo was already taking a seat before the man even said. He sat comfortably, bringing himself closer to the table. He opened his eyes. "Reveal."

On Shinzo's shoulders appeared a big gray cat out of thin air. It had a fluffy tail and a striped body. It grinned, rolling its wide eyes.

"What happened?" The cat asked. "Why did you call me?"

The old man clenched his fist and banged it on the table. Thud! "Hahahaha!" He burst into laughter. "Hahaha!"

He looked up, wiping a tear of amusement off. "Excuse me," he was still shaking from humor. "It's just... The rumors are true. Kawashima Shinzo, you do possess a Fiction!"

Shinzo took a purple-wrapped chocolate out of his pocket. He was trying to tear it open. "Yes, mine is the Cheshire Cat."

The cat exclaimed, "It's me! Guhehehe! Cheshire Cat from 'Alice In Wonderland'!"

The old man's interest piqued. He leaned forward, inquiring, "Isn't your job to kill Fictions? Why do you have one perched on your shoulder?"

"To kill is an art." Shinzo finally unwrapped the chocolate. "And I am an artist."

"Huh?"

"Having the Cheshire Cat, a Fiction that can go visible and invisible at will, is my way to extract information from places I cannot reach. The more information, the better the artist I am—the better the killer I am."

He broke the chocolate in two. Its smell of dark sweetness filled the otherwise empty room. "Now tell me," he gazed straight ahead at the man with his hawk-like vision. "Why have you called me here?"

The old man burst with excitement. Not literally, but it was visible in his facial expression. "Kawashima Shinzo, you are a peculiar man. One of the best Fiction Killers in ages, but unconventional, indeed."

"Unconventional?" He was genuinely curious about further explanation. He took a bite of the chocolate and munched on it. "How am I unconventional?"

"Learned fencing, won a gold medal at state level, left it. Learned painting, got accepted into the toughest art schools, left it. Won the 200m marathon at the age of fifteen while competing against athletes, left it. The list goes on and on!" The man waved his hand with each word.

"I just like to learn new things." He gave the other piece of chocolate to Cheshire Cat. It grabbed it, still grinning ear-to-ear.

The old man laughed. "And now in this world of Fiction... Only to master it one day, and leave it. Right?"

"Right on that one."

"As you would know, Fictions are fictional objects, creatures, characters, or concepts from an era long gone. Just like the Cheshire Cat, which was once merely a word, is breathing in front of us, munching on chocolate!"

"Yes?"

"I need your help, Kawashima Shinzo." The old man left his seat, standing up. His purple robe flowed down to the floor. It was oversized. He walked towards Shinzo. His each step creaked the wooden floor.

"My help?" Shinzo blinked repeatedly.

"Fictions are mostly summoned by a summoner, who may possess a Fiction Card of a specific story or mythology. But at times, Fictions manifest on their own."

"Where are you... Getting at?" He was still sitting calmly. His chocolate had finished. He sighed.

The old man leaned just inches away from his face. He was wide-eyed, staring at Shinzo. "Ever heard about Aladdin's Lamp?"

"Aladdin's... Lamp?" Shinzo looked confused. Cheshire Cat grinned wider. It laughed, answering in his place. "Aladdin's Lamp is a golden lamp which hosts a near-omnipotent genie inside it. Whoever rubs the lamp thrice with purpose and will, the genie manifests and grants its master three wishes. The wish can be anything, as long as it's weaker than the genie himself."

Shinzo asked it,

"Want another chocolate?" Eyebrow raised.

"Why not!" The cat was delighted and chuckled.

The old man walked towards a stone wall. He placed his fingers upon it, gazing downwards. "I want you to work for me. The Arislaw family, one of the biggest players in Fiction landscape, has seized Aladdin's Lamp under them. 'We are protecting it from evil,' they say. Whatever! They are just a piece of trash, vying for omnipotent power! Shinzo,-" He turned around, meeting his stern look. "-Get the lamp from them to me."

Shinzo stood up from his seat. Cheshire Cat vanished into thin air. He asked, "What do I get in return?"

"Knew you would ask this." The man gave a knowing smile. "The lamp grants three wishes. I give you ten million yen, and one wish from the lamp. Literally anything you desire!" He roared with passion.

Shinzo shook his head. He turned around, walking towards the door. He wasn't much interested in an omnipotent wish. Grabbed the knob, ready to leave.

He stopped midway of opening the door, eyes opened up. "Aoi," he thought. "Because of my pursuit of perfection, I plunged you into a state of coma. Hopeless, you are.

He turned around, staring directly at the old man. His expression was that of raw determination. "Is that genie above coma?" His words had a certain flame in them, never heard in his dead tone.

The old man hesitated. "Obviously, it's above health issues like coma! It's a near-omnipotent genie!"

"Then," he said. His warm brown eyes gleamed with a newfound desire. He stood upright, proudly. "Count me hired... I'll bring the lamp for you."