[What was her name?]
"Who?" Lorelle muttered, weaving through the crowded hallway. Students brushed past him in identical uniforms, their chatter filling the space between them.
[That human you keep searching for.]
"I don't... know that." He said under his breath.
[What?!]
"I said, I don't know," The said, then lowered his voice as more students passed by.
[How could you not know her name? Are you an idiot?]
Lorelle said nothing.
[You're telling me you got yourself reincarnated to find this girl, and you don't even know her name?]
Still nothing.
Ping.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. He followed the stream of students inside, pressing himself against the back wall. The cool metal felt good against his shoulders as he closed his eyes.
From the moment I woke up in this world... from the moment I woke up in this godforsaken world, I knew my memories were tampered with.
The voice went quiet.
Yeah, I figured you'd know something about that.
[I don't.]
Liar.
Silence stretched between them.
Just stop with the constant questions. They're getting on my nerves. He pressed his fingers to his temples. I remember her face, what we had, our time together... but that's it. Her name's just... gone.
[Then how can you be sure she's even in this world?]
She better be. His jaw clenched. I didn't go through all this pain for nothing. I have to find her and strangle her with my bare hands.
[Wait, you want to kill her?]
No. The thought came slower, more honest. I just want to know why she did it. Why she choose to be such an idiot.
[She might not be here, you know. Are you ready for that possibility?]
Stop trying to plant doubts in my mind. She's here. She has to be.
[Alright, let's say she is. Let's say the reason for all your choices actually exists in this world.] The voice took on a cruel edge. [What if she's one of the children of destiny? What if she's meant for someone else—the protagonist, maybe?]
Lorelle's fist involuntarily clenched tightly. Of course, he'd thought about it. The possibility was quite frightening.
If she were a heroine, then everything—the effort, the torment, the suffering—was worthless. He's being here was worthless. Heroines belonged to heroes. That was how these stories went.
[Imagine finally finding her, only to discover she's in love with someone else, or even better... she's dead]
"For once in your goddamn life, SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!"
The words tore out of him, and the elevator fell silent.
"I... I..."
A girl near him stumbled backward, fear written across her face. Every pair of eyes in the elevator turned to stare at him.
Crap.
In the crowd, he spotted a familiar face looking at him with pure disgust.