Shiori.
The first thing she knew – before she saw anything, before she’d even noticed she was alive – was that she had been named. The next thing she discovered? She could feel. Something was walking on her, leaving an imprint on her worn fabric. Despite that this was the first time she had felt any sensation, it was familiar. Warm, and… a little bit painful. Then she lost it all again.
Who knows how much time passed before she came back. All she did know was that she could feel again, and she felt something that was itching to open. And so, for the first time, she opened her eyes.
Or, eye.
One large chestnut eye stitched into the pattern of the carpet opened to look up into the dark, only just making out a wooden ceiling. A fairly unimpressive first view of the world and yet… she felt joy. A fat tear welled up in her fabric eye and immediately soaked back into her. She knew where she was, she knew what she was and she knew that she could… should… why couldn’t she move?
She curled up to see her bottom half trapped beneath the legs of a heavy writing desk. Oh. Um, let’s see here… soon it was quite apparent that there was little a carpet could do to move a weighed down desk. Well, shit. Nothing to do but wait until the humans of this house decided to take it off for her. Considering how much dust she had gathered beneath the table, it was unlikely her owners were the type to rearrange things often. Exactly how long had she been here, any… was… was that an ink stain?!
Shiori had been gifted with knowledge of many things when she woke up. Knowledge of her country, morality, time, days, weather, Yokai, Gods, mortality, immortality – so, so many things that came all at once, but did not overwhelm her. What had her overwhelmed was what she was forced to learn in these quiet moments alone after her awakening. What was she, other than Tsukumogami? Frayed corners and worn fabric and a horrid stain and forgotten...
The carpet began violently thrashing beneath the desk, eventually knocking off rolls of paper and an inkwell before she finally yanked herself free from her prison and floated up. The table legs had left dents in her that she would not be free of for a long time. Unable to find anything like a portrait of her owner, she rolled half of herself up so she wouldn’t trail over the ground and flew out of the room in search of them. After searching the entire house, it appeared they weren’t home. Ah, well, she’d know them the moment she saw them. Something told her that.
She floated over to the sliding paper door and eventually managed to open it, gazing out onto the street. The sun was down and the Yokai were out. Everything in the house felt annoyingly familiar, but out there… out there, she barely knew anything. Would her owner care if she left for a moment while they were out? It surely must have been expected of her to stay and protect the homestead, but… well, they didn’t know she was alive yet.
Soon the sentient carpet was floating above the Matchmaking Festival, listening to music and smelling food for the first time – and looking at the Tree of Bitter Love. She wanted to join the people beneath her. She also wanted to climb that tree – not because of the view, she could fly, duh, but just because she could. The crowds were… mostly Kitsune, it seemed. A flying one eyed, long-tongued carpet would be very out of place down there. Oh, well, time to change form. The carpet spiraled around, wrapping itself in a cocoon, when suddenly it exploded into a naked, human girl – and immediately began plummeting towards the earth.
“Ah,” Shiori said as she dropped from the skies that were once her domain, “Whoops!”