My brain rebooted, struggling to catch up with Sora's audacious proposal.
"Save a cat from a tree?" I repeated, the words feeling utterly absurd on my tongue. After the delicate, reality-bending weirdness of the morning, this felt like something out of a Saturday morning cartoon.
"Is the cat prophetic?" Zeke chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a manic creative energy. "Does he happen to be named Mr. Snugglesworth?"
Sora shot him a look that could curdle milk. "No, Tanaka. This will not be one of your theatrical disasters. This will be controlled. Believable. We need an anchor, not a circus." She turned back to me, all business. "Here's the problem: Sina feels like she knows you, but has no logical reason to. We need to give her a reason. A single, powerful, emotionally resonant 'first' memory that her brain can latch onto."
"A foundational myth," I breathed, understanding dawning. "We create a fake 'Day 1' that's so strong it can retroactively explain all the static she's been feeling."
"Precisely," Sora said, a glimmer of respect in her eyes. "She feels a connection because, as the story will go, we all met a few weeks ago during a moment of minor, dramatic heroism. You did something memorable. Something... kind. That's the feeling she's chasing. Kindness. We're going to give it a source."
The plan was as brilliant as it was terrifyingly deceptive. It was a lie designed to tell a deeper truth—that my connection with her was rooted in genuine care.
"Okay," Zeke said, rubbing his hands together, fully on board. "Operation: Feline in a Fix is a go! But we have a logistical problem. Where are we going to find a cat that is A) willing to climb a tree, and B) willing to be rescued by this sad-boy over here?" He jabbed a thumb at me.
"That's the easiest part," Sora said, pulling out her phone. She typed for a second, then held it up. It was a picture of a fat, fluffy, and profoundly lazy-looking calico cat snoozing on a windowsill. "This is Mochi. My landlady's cat. He is fueled by two things: sunbeams and canned tuna. And he is famously too lazy to even jump off a couch, let alone climb a tree."
"So... he's not going to be in a tree," I said, confused.
"Of course not," Sora replied with a hint of a smirk. "The 'cat in the tree' will be entirely theoretical."
The rooftop lunch break became a frantic, hushed strategy session. Sora's plan was meticulous. After school, she would lead Sina on a specific route home, a quiet path that ran alongside a small community park. Zeke and I were to get there first and set the scene.
My role was simple: be halfway up a tree. Zeke's role, as "concerned citizen," was to be on the ground, "helping." The cat, Mochi, would not be making an appearance. His name was the key.
The final school bell was a starting pistol. Zeke and I practically sprinted to the designated park, a quiet little green space with a handful of sturdy, climbable-looking trees.
"This is it! This is the one!" Zeke declared, pointing at a respectable-looking oak. "The perfect blend of climbable, but just high enough to look heroic. Not so high you look like an idiot."
I looked up at the branches. "This is insane."
"It's genius!" Zeke countered, already getting into character. He started looking up into the tree with a worried expression, occasionally calling out, "Here, Mochi! It's okay, little buddy!"
"The cat isn't real, you moron," I hissed, stuffing my bag behind a bush.
"Sora said 'set the scene'! This is called atmospheric support!"
I sighed, grabbed onto a low-hanging branch, and started to climb. It was surprisingly easy. I found a thick, sturdy branch about ten feet up and wedged myself into place, trying my best to look like I was engaged in a tense feline rescue.
A few minutes later, I heard their voices.
"...I'm telling you, Sora, I just have this feeling..." It was Sina's voice, soft and full of the same confused wonder from the morning. "It's like I'm supposed to meet someone today."
"Maybe you are," Sora's voice replied, calm and leading.
They rounded the corner and entered the park. Sina saw Zeke first, his face a mask of theatrical worry.
"Oh! Is everything okay?" Sina asked, her steps faltering.
"My... uh... friend's cat!" Zeke exclaimed, pointing dramatically up at the tree. At me. "She's stuck! Mochi! He won't come down!"
Sina's eyes followed his finger and landed on me. I was perched on the branch, my face a carefully constructed mask of determined concentration.
Her jaw dropped.
"Kelin?" she said, her voice a whisper of pure disbelief.
It was working. She was seeing the puzzle piece she had been searching for all day, and it was ten feet up a tree, supposedly rescuing a cat named Mochi.
"It's okay! I've almost got him!" I called down, making sure to inject a dose of heroic strain into my voice. I pretended to reach for an invisible cat just beyond my grasp. "He's just... a little scared!"
"Is there anything we can do?" Sina asked, taking a step closer to the tree, her concern genuine and immediate.
"Stay back," Sora said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let the hero work."
I did some more dramatic reaching, grunting for effect. "Almost... there... got him!" I announced triumphantly to the empty air. I then began a slow, careful pantomime of holding a squirming cat to my chest while I climbed down.
When my feet hit the solid ground, I put my "cat-holding" arms out. "Here you go, man. He's safe."
Zeke rushed forward and took the invisible cat from my arms with the reverence of a midwife delivering a royal baby. "Oh, Mochi, you little rascal! You had us so worried!" He proceeded to cradle and pet the air, cooing at it softly.
It was so utterly ridiculous, I almost broke character. But then I looked at Sina.
She wasn't looking at the invisible cat. She was looking at me. Her face was a canvas of dawning comprehension. The static in her head was finally resolving into a clear picture.
The kind stranger. The minor hero. The boy whose face felt familiar because he was the boy who rescued a cat.
"You climbed a tree... for a cat?" she asked, her voice filled with a quiet awe.
I brushed some dirt and a leaf off my pants, trying to look nonchalant. "Couldn't just leave him up there," I said with a shrug, my heart pounding a million miles a minute.
She took a step closer. The wary confusion was gone, completely replaced by a warm, shining admiration. She looked at me as if she was finally seeing me clearly for the first time.
"Wow," she breathed. She reached out, her fingers hesitating for a second before gently brushing a leaf off my shoulder. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent a bolt of lightning straight through me.
In her mind, this was it. This was the moment. Our real Day 1.
The foundational myth had been laid. And she was smiling at me with a warmth that felt more real than anything I had ever known.