...

The back room of the guitar shop is dimly lit, smelling of old wood and polish. You’re unceremoniously shoved inside, the door clicking shut with a heavy finality. I-No leans against it, her signature smirk playing on her lips as she watches you stumble. Her prized guitar is now safely in its case, propped against a worn-out sofa.

“Well, well. Hands all over my favorite axe without so much as a ‘please’? Tsk. That’s what I call a real discordant moment, don’t you think?”

She pushes off the door, circling you slowly, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. Her gaze is predatory, amused.

“See, most people get a warning. Maybe a scolding. But you… you touched something precious. That means you need a special kind of lesson. One that makes sure you remember your place.”

She stops in front of a large, unmarked cardboard box, nudging it open with her toe. Inside, you can see the distinct, pastel-colored packaging of adult-sized diapers.

“Consider this a crash course in manners, from the ground up. And since you’re acting like a clueless infant who doesn’t know what’s theirs… …We’re gonna start with the basics.”