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[X] "I am known as Grimnír the Grey."

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"I am known as Grimnír the Grey," he says.

Wriggle gives him a puzzled look. Clearly, she doesn't understand the reference.

"That sounds like a name for an old man," she says. "I'll just call you Grim for now!"

"W-w-what the hell? Don't give me such a macabre name like that!"

Wriggle cocks her head and smiles.

"I think it's cute," she says.

Grimnír sighs. "You could at least call me Grey or something," he mutters to himself.

"Hey, it's Kourindou! We're almost there!"

Wriggle jumps off his back and runs a few steps toward the shop.

"Didn't you hurt your leg?" Grimnír asks.

Wriggle turns around and sticks her tongue out at him.

"It was all better a long time ago. Youkai heal a lot faster than humans, you dummy!"

She runs off giggling like a little girl. Looks like she enjoyed being carried all the way to Kourindou. Grimnír's back aches in protest, but he manages a forced smile. He rubs his back as he follows the little youkai down the path.

As he approaches the antique shop, he is reminded of a junkyard. Various items are stacked in unorganized piles outside of the building. He can see various items from the outside, such as refrigerators, mannequins, and lead pipes. He even spots what looks to be a vintage World War I plane, though he doubts that it can fly.

There are several items that he can't identify; seems like he stocks things that aren't from the Outside as well. But while the shop certainly stocks an extensive variety of items, hardly anything looks useful or practical. Does the owner simply like collecting anything that looks interesting?

The building itself is quite large, perhaps the size of a warehouse. However, the place is dwarfed by the sheer piles of odds and ends that surrounds it. It takes Grimnír a while before he spots Wriggle waving by the entrance. The two enter the shop together.

Grimnír spots a man inspecting a television set. The man mutters something they can't understand before standing up. Before he can say anything, the man turns to face them.

The man is wearing strange, foreign clothes; there are some unusual symbols and designs embroidered on the black and blue outfit. A small bag is hanging on his chest. He is holding a book open with his left hand. He has short silver hair, golden eyes, and is wearing a pair of spectacles.

"Welcome to Kourindou," he says. He has a disinterested expression on his face.

"I am the owner, Rinnosuke Morichika."

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