‘Fuck. Shit, shit, shit. Why now? Why you, why is it you, you fucker…!’

  Natasha’s jaw tightened, and she held her phone hard enough to hear the sound of her own grip. It had enough force for the phone to seem as if it were bending under her palm; it had enough force such that it was comparable to when she bit her lip, but no blood flowed out...

  It had enough force that it caused her hand, her pale, smooth, and well-groomed hands, to turn even more white and pale with large dashes of red and pink colors, blood-like hues—just like that accursed creature.

  Her chest heaved even more, her rage festered even more, her fear… permeated and parasitized and radically moved about and implanted itself even more.

  The contrast between the two colorist extremes made it seem as if it were a painting; it was just that the canvas was the inside of her palm and maybe the black screen of her phone.

  The latter result, of course, could only come to pass if the theorized ink—her own blood—left the “bucket” that was the inside of her skin, where it was held in place, and began the “painting process” comparable to modern art showcases on the internet.

  Splashing and sploshing in random ways, at least to an untrained and disdainful eye or perhaps a trained and disdainful eye, as artistic taste depended on one's tastes.

  ‘I-I don’t fear you…’ Not far removed from the video on the screen, Natasha watched it over and over, as if in a trance, her Clairvoyance activated without her notice, taking in all sights, scents, and everything else.

  Her phone trembled, and she had to hold in the urge to close her already close-together legs and also resist the urge to hug them like a helpless child.

  ‘Why is it chasing us, me, again?! In the last loop, despite being so close, it hadn’t arrived for as long as 10 minutes, but now it skipped all of that and is rushing over? What the fuck? What the fuck?! How broken are you? why does it need to be like this…’

  She nearly broke down into tears.

  She felt like these 1-star Meta-Beasts were very unreasonable. They were called “the weakest” and “fodder,” but in the face of these so-called weak entities, it seemed like she and all the other girls were even lower on the hierarchy.

  While distracted by thoughts, Natasha’s gaze shifted to the half-covered phone screen by chance, and perhaps or rather certainly out of disgust, disdain, and disbelief, she turned her head away.

  ‘Honestly, seeing this pathetic look on my face… Unpleasant. It’s so horribly unpleasant and wrong. But it feels… right. It feels right to be terrified and scared. Why? Why, why, why am I feeling so satisfied with being pathetic at just seeing it moving toward me!’

  Even when it’s so far away! Even when it isn’t even near her in any way. Even when it’s target could be totally unrelated to her…

  Natasha pinched her thigh; courage did not return to her, but reason did, and she would be glad to say that it was enough. Not enough to win without courage, but to at least stand up without fear.

  ‘Curse this metaphorical type of thinking.’

  Natasha placed a hand on the wall and shakily stood up; she faltered. Not out of fear, but numbness, as she had sat without moving at all for quite a time, and her body likely wasn’t accustomed to the sudden movement.

  She got over it quickly and carefully freed her near meat-sandwich of a phone; thankfully, she wasn’t so crazy with her grip that it broke her phone or that it tore some parts of her flesh off.

  ‘Now wouldn’t that be a horrifying experience.’

  With the phone out of the “human-lock,” Natasha quickly went to the [Tesseract] group chat. She paused for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts and the subsequent phrasing that would follow.

  ‘Change of plans, we need to do something else.’ She thought, and she bit her lip slightly.

  [Ivanova: @Everyone Bad news. The Flame Monkey is heading up west.]

  [Yuki: You’re joking.]

  [Ivanova: I wish I was.]

  There was a noticeable pause in the replies, although it showed that Yuki was still online. And there wasn’t any sort of indication that she had been put in trouble, no fire tornadoes or gigantic earthquakes, so Natasha just concluded that the girl was relaying the information to the others in the car.

  As she thought about the car they were riding in, Natasha’s mind couldn’t help but divert to unrelated thoughts. These thoughts, or rather, this thought, while unrelated and seemingly unimportant to her current situation, occupied a sizable space in her head once it came to be.

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  It wasn’t like the space was occupied in the first place.

  ‘Who is in the front seat?’ This was very important to Natasha, and her hands felt itchy at the fact that she had to wait for another few minutes for the answer.

  Scratching a little and feeling a wet sensation, Natasha looked down to see not blood but just some peeled-back skin. It was shallow, and the pink of the flesh could not be seen, only the next layer of white skin.

  ‘Scared the hell out of me; thought I turned into some crazy that doesn’t even notice they scratched themselves till they bled.’ Natasha sighed in relief for a moment.

  She looked around and glanced at the door she was so intent on entering moments ago before she turned away and left. Momentarily, she thought about whether to go the same way she came but decided against it.

  She didn’t particularly like talking with unfamiliar people, and engaging in empty conversations that didn’t fill her life were meaningless.

  To participate in these trivialities, while being they were of course beneficial in some way, deeply struck a cord inside of her that was deeply unpleasant.

  ‘I… I don’t like how much you have to say to fill in even the smallest of gaps in these conversations. A shallow wordplay, an exchange of words merely for it’s sake alone and pointless wastage of time… I don’t like it at all, this emptiness.’

  Lips pursed, Natasha grimaced when another thought, along with some vague imagery crossed her mind, and she shook them away. While persistent, unusually so, they eventually dispersed.

  Thankfully, her phone rang.

  Natasha hurriedly picked up the phone and looked at the caller.

  [Leon]

  ‘Yes!’

  Hearts practically flying out of her closed eyes, Natasha quickly answered the phone and placed it near her ear. She bounced in place, her body already sagging in anticipation, eager to hear his voice.

  Reality wasn’t in line with her illusions, however, as a truth came to her ears.

  [Leon: Uh, it’s a video call…]

  Natasha, who was already silent, immediately became even more silent and froze. Faintly, she could hear some feminine laughter from beyond the screen, and her face couldn’t help but turn red.

  The soft chuckle of a young male that came after made it all worth it. However; at least, that was what her body, which had become incredibly limp, thought about this situation.

  Embarrassed and reluctant, Natasha removed the phone from her ear and looked at it.

  [Natasha: I, I was… The call was unexpected, and I panicked a little.]

  Somewhat unwilling to lie to Leon but unable to tell the full truth, Natasha couldn’t help but blurt out a few shameful words.

  Leon chuckled and, in Natasha’s eyes, appeared very charming.

  [Leon: We’re outside the auditorium.]

  [Natasha: I’ll be right there.]

  [Leon: Roger, that.]

  Just like that, her embarrassing call ended.

  While she said that, Natasha couldn’t help but think, ‘How? How did they get here so fast?’

  What she really wanted to ask was why Leon had gone through the trouble of calling when he could have just texted, but due to her delusion, she had already internalized that he might have liked seeing her and called just because of that.

  Normally, one of these would spark an intense mental dialogue, or rather, monologue.

  However, with Leon practically out the door, waiting for her to come out, Natasha seemingly forgot and discarded all her immediately relevant personality traits.

  Leaping forward, she dashed toward the door at a high speed, and it was not much slower than a moderately moving vehicle. Whether it be adrenaline, joy, or sheer ability that led to this phenomenon of speed would not be known.

  She didn’t take long, arriving back at the reception area in no time at all.

  She stopped in her tracks.

  In the dark and elegant looking reception hall, there was no mystical sunlight that framed your face or back perfectly, nor was there any sort of rebellious wind that moved your hair in charming ways, and there certainly wasn't any sort of sparkles being generated in reality to uplift an image of someone…

  There was nothing to put anyone on a pedestal, to show how much more special they were, to crown their eyes, hair, body, and everything they were and place it above everyone in a magnificent display!

  No…

  There was just… Him.

  Standing, talking, smiling cheerfully, and nodding seriously.

  Natasha’s world stopped, not rashly, but gently, intimately—as if afraid of disturbing.

  Soft brown hair, animated posture, serious demeanor, and strange eyes with a locket she had yet to know the shape or size of.

  Dressed ordinarily in a uniform that was bloodied, dusty, and messy…

  Stood there was someone that Natasha knew all too well, someone she knew more than herself, that she shouldn’t have known so much about—someone she wanted to know even more about still…

  Center of her world and cornerstone of her memory of this school, of everything she wanted to be:

  Leon Hearth.