[A/N] This is an additional chapter written for the Children of the Stars Book Club writing prompt week. I sort of misunderstood the prompt and didn't realize it until I finished (the prompt was supposed to be if you get to replace your character in your story, and I somehow thought it was if you get to fall into your story), but I figured I would post it anyway since it was done :D

This is not related to the story itself at all, and please feel free to skip it if you don't feel like reading my adventures in Japan!

Oh oh by the way this story got to #109 in Adventure last week! I'm crying you people are so sweet <3

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I woke up on the hard ground. The cool, hard ground, the kind that could be found in elementary school corridors.

At least, my elementary school corridors. I have no idea what other people's elementary school corridors looked like, and had never felt the need to find out.

I sat up. The sun was shining, the sky was a dusty, dry, pale blue, and the cicadas were singing like no tomorrow. This was definitely not my tiny and stuffy apartment. This was definitely not what I expected to wake up to. I was supposed to wake up to cars honking outside my window, to the creaking sound of the neighboring pharmacy opening its doors, to another dreary day at work.

Instead, I woke up to this. Classrooms lined the corridor, as did rectangle-shaped stone sinks that housed mops and plastic buckets. They reminded me of my elementary school days.

In fact, this whole place reminded me of my elementary school days. Only this couldn't have been my elementary school. The signs by the classroom doors weren't in my language. 三年二組, one said.

Year three, class number two. In Japanese.

I wondered briefly why I had woken up in a Japanese school. One that appeared to be empty, moreover. Where were the students? The teachers? Was it Sunday or something? I was pretty sure that when I went to sleep, it was Tuesday.

I peeked over the concrete railings, saw all the bodies scattered across the schoolyard, and then I knew.

I was in this story I was writing. I had to be; I did model the school in the story after my elementary school after all. It sure explained the bodies.

Which meant that I was somewhere in a Japanese mountain village not too far from civilization. I bet I could find a bus or something in no time, and then I'd be able to get to Tokyo, book a plane ticket home from an Internet cafe, and then catch the subway to the airport. But not before visiting Disneyland and Disney Sea and Universal Studios of course-

Wait, that would be simply inconsiderate. As far as I knew, my characters were right inside this school, battling some greater evil, and could possibly die any minute. It wouldn't do for me to just leave without helping, no?

But there was no way I could've helped, I reasoned. My characters were skilled in hacking minds; I wasn't. They were "special" students who got into the school after very rigorous exams; I wasn't. They were trained professionals who at least sort of knew what they were doing; I wasn't.

I couldn't help them at all in the mindhacking aspect; however I could help them get rid of Mr. Kojima, one of the main villain dudes that were still alive and kicking in the story.

I found him easily, for I knew exactly where his office was. I made him, after all. I also knew his favorite brand of coffee, the kind of deodorant he used, his credit card number, his measurements and where his secret porn stash was.

He was looking at his secret porn stash right now and chuckling to himself. Needless to say, he wasn't too happy to see me.

"What do you want?" he asked in Japanese. I scratched my head. I had no Japanese speaking skills whatsoever.

"Sudoku, tsunami, sushi, Naruto, kawaii, konnichiwa, bae," I told him with my limited vocabulary.

"'Bae' isn't Japanese," he said in exasperation.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know!" I said, and whacked him in the head with a fire extinguisher I picked up from outside. Mr. Kojima fell to the floor, unconscious.

I nicked his wallet before leaving. I created him, after all, so I knew that he was rich.

It was only a short walk to the nearest village, and I got a bus ticket to Tokyo from there. Before that, however, I made sure to locate a phone first.

"I'm on a pay phone, trying to call home," I sang, as I dialed my office number. My boss picked up after one ring. She was the impatient type who would shoot at people with rubber bands.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

"In Japan. It's a long story," I explained. This was indeed a long story. Twenty chapters in and I wasn't even halfway done yet.

"In that case, you should bring me a box of Tokyo Banana as souvenir. I heard that you can find a store at Tokyo Skytree."

"Okay," I said and hung up.

Now, time to get myself some yakiniku and visit some hot springs. Ooh, ooh, I've always wanted to go to a Japanese karaoke alone!