The bell for lunch didn't just ring; it screamed—a sharp, electronic tone that sent a wave of chairs scraping against the floor. In an instant, the quiet classroom transformed into a chaotic river of teenagers.
I sat still for a moment, letting my classmates flow past me. In the game, these people didn't exist. Now, they were everywhere—laughing, complaining about tests, and planning their afternoons. The sheer noise of it was dizzying.
My stomach gave a traitorous growl. Following a pull I didn't quite understand, my feet led me toward the cafeteria. The air there was thick with the scent of savory curry and fried pork. I found myself standing in front of a vending machine, my hand hovering over the buttons. Without thinking, I pressed the button for a carton of apple juice and a yakisoba pan.
I guess this is what "I" usually eat, I thought, staring at the plastic-wrapped bread in my hand. It was a strange sensation—my brain didn't recognize the preference, but my fingers knew exactly which buttons to hit.
I didn't want to sit in the crowded cafeteria. The noise felt like it was pressing against my skull. I navigated through the halls, heading for a quiet spot—a small, sun-drenched stairwell landing that led to the roof. It was out of the way, the kind of place a "shut-in" like the old Eugene would find peace.
As I rounded the corner toward the stairs, I nearly collided with someone.
A tall girl with long, cascading violet hair was leaning against the wall, her head buried in a thick hardcover book. She flinched violently at my approach, clutching the book to her chest as if it were a shield.
"Oh, sorry, Yuri," I said instinctively, stepping back to give her space.
The girl froze. She looked up at me, her deep purple eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and intense shyness. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her face turning a soft shade of pink.
"I... I beg your pardon?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Do... do we know each other?"
Ice water seemed to run down my spine. Shit. In this world, Yuri and I hadn't met yet. She wasn't the purple-haired girl from my computer screen; she was a student I had never spoken to. My "Player" brain had recognized her instantly, but to the "Eugene" of Kizuna Academy, she was just a stranger in the hallway.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, my face heating up. "I think I confused you with someone else. You just... you looked like a Yuri I used to know. My mistake."
She blinked, still looking wary but a bit more relaxed. "I see... It is a fairly common name, I suppose. Excuse me."
She practically melted into the shadows of the hallway, scurrying away with her book held tight. I stood there, heart hammering. That was a close call. If I kept doing that, people were going to think I was a stalker.
I finally reached my "loner spot" on the stairs and sat down, tearing open my yakisoba pan. I'd only taken two bites when the door at the bottom of the stairs creaked open.
"I knew I'd find you here!"
Sayori climbed the stairs, her smile as bright as the midday sun. She was holding a plastic bag that crinkled with every step. She sat down next to me, far closer than a "normal" friend would, her shoulder pressing against mine.
"You're so predictable, Eugene," she giggled, poking my arm. "You always come here when the cafeteria gets too loud. Did you get the yakisoba again? You should really try the egg salad sometimes!"
"I like the yakisoba," I muttered, feeling a strange warmth at how well she knew the "other" me.
"You're so stubborn," she said, leaning her head back against the cool concrete wall. For a second, the forced energy in her voice dipped, leaving something softer behind. "I'm glad I found you, though. I was worried you might have... changed your mind about the club."
I looked at her. Up close, I could see the slight dark circles under her eyes that she tried to hide with her cheerful expressions.
"I'm coming, Sayori. Don't worry."
"You're right," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the window across from us. "Don't forget it, 'kay?"
The weight of that statement sat heavy in the small stairwell. I wasn't just joining a club; I was stepping into a role that came with years of history I didn't fully understand. My earlier thought of just not joining wasn't an option anymore. It would break her heart, and seeing her this real—this fragile—I realized I couldn't let that happen.