On My Honor (NoriXhuman!reader)

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Your stomach dropped as your laptop flashed the glowing blue screen of death. Everything you had worked on for the past three hours, gone. You slammed your computer lid shut and collapsed onto the table in defeat. The table legs squeak in protest.

"I don't mean to be rude miss, but you're going to have to order something or i'm going to have to ask you to leave," the barista from earlier inform you again.

You lifted your head with a sigh and said, "I'll have another *favorite hot drink* then. —Actually could you make this one to-go? I won't be staying much longer."  You rubbed the back of your neck and tried to think of ways to fix the problem at hand.

The concept plans you were writing up before your computer crashed were for a presentation you were giving tomorrow. You had nearly finished it, and were about to back it up on your USB but never had the chance.

"It won't be ready in time. It's not possible now." You said to yourself. The urge to just leave the coffee shop that moment slid down your spine and lit a fire beneath your feet. You quickly put your dead laptop back into your leather side bag, ready to step away from the problem for a moment. You stayed just long enough to pay for your drinks before you rushed out the double doors. Icy wind nipped at you through your thick knitted sweater, and you hugged the warm cup close to your chest. Leaving the coffee shop wouldn't fix your problem, but a sickening feeling of dread flooded your body made you feel ill at the very thought of sitting still. The presentation was the deciding factor on whether or not they kept you on the team and your faulty laptop just sealed your fate.

The sinking realization pushed you to walk faster.

You pushed through the herds of holiday shoppers and rowdy school kids. The sheer number of people made your skin crawl with the need to be somewhere quieter.

You wove through the milling crowds and past the bright street shops that blared holiday music. Past the cracking concrete at the edge of town. Straight into the Dead Wood. Bare oak branches loomed over you, reach out grasping at your hair and clothes, trying to stop you from entering the heart of the forest. But you could still hear cars passing on the street and people shouting. The farther in you walked, the thicker the branches overhead became, now crowned in amber leaves. The narrow dirt path thinned and was strewn with dead leaves that crunched beneath your feet.

You kept walking quickly as the path suddenly curved sharply to the left. Your boot snagged on an uncovered root and you crashed to the ground. The to-go cup is crushed beneath you, dousing your front in the scalding *favorite hot drink*. You cried out in pain and rushed to pull off your soaked sweater.

It's only once the pain subsided that you noticed it.

The quiet.

You were finally alone.

Tears began to fall freely as you leaned against a gnarled oak tree. Worst case scenarios filled your head about the impending nightmare you'd face tommrow.

"Are you alright miss?"

You lurched forward in surprise at the sound of a man's voice. You hadn't noticed anyone else in Dead Wood. "Who's there?" You said apprehensively.

A short man with the starfish shaped hair raised his hands in surrender.

"I don't want any trouble now miss, I was just wondering if you were lost too."

"You're lost?" you asked as you shifted on your feet, "I can point you back in the direction of town. It's right back down that...path. —What the hell?" The path had vanished. More importantly, the entire forest was different. The dark and foreboding oak trees had transformed into impossibly large, curving trees of faded grey. The starfish man nodded his head disappointedly, as if he expected that kind of reaction.

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