The plan was simple, which, in hindsight, was the first problem.
My knuckles were white where I gripped the ridiculous, jewel-encrusted cat collar. Beside me, Zeke was breathing like he'd just run a marathon, his bright orange hair practically vibrating with nervous energy.
WHOOSH!
A gust of wind whipped through the school courtyard, carrying the sweet scent of cherry blossoms and the faint sound of the morning bell.
"He's not here yet, Kelin!" Zeke whisper-yelled, adjusting his sunglasses, which were comically oversized and shaped like pineapples. "Agent Pineapple is aborting the mission! I repeat, aborting—"
"Shut up, Agent Pineapple," I muttered, my eyes scanning the flow of students. "Mr. Snugglesworth is a professional. He'll be here."
Zeke gawked. "You actually named the cat?"
My internal monologue was screaming. Of course I named the cat. It's Day 78. A day this important needs a cat with a solid name.
My heart was jackhammering against my ribs, a frantic rhythm I'd grown used to. Seventy-seven times before, I had stood in this courtyard, or a coffee shop, or a library, with a plan that was either brilliant or certifiably insane.
Seventy-seven times, I had introduced myself to the girl who owned my entire world.
And then I saw her.
Sina Vance.
She moved through the crowded courtyard like she was the only one there. Long, pale lilac hair drifted behind her, catching the morning sun and glowing like a halo. She was holding a book to her chest, her amber eyes scanning the world with a gentle, detached curiosity.
The same curiosity she had yesterday. And the day before.
My breath caught. It always did.
"Okay," I whispered, my voice tight. "He's on the move. Target is approaching the designated bench. Agent Pineapple, release the asset."
"Releasing the—you mean the cat?!" Zeke fumbled with the cat carrier at his feet. "Here, Mr. Snugglesworth! Go forth and prophesy!"
THWUMP.
A fat, fluffy ginger cat tumbled out of the carrier, gave Zeke a look of profound betrayal, and immediately started washing its face, completely ignoring its sacred mission.
My eye twitched. "Plan B."
"We have a Plan B?"
"I am Plan B."
I took a deep breath, straightened my uniform, and started walking. Each step was deliberate. Not too fast, not too slow. Intercept trajectory: the cherry tree just past the bench.
This was the part that never got easier. The opening line. The first look. The moment where I was just another stranger in her sea of forgotten faces.
Sina sat on the bench, opening her book. I saw the familiar, neat handwriting on the first page of her notebook peeking out from her bag. My name is Sina Vance. I have anterograde amnesia. Don't panic.
My chest ached. It always did.
I "tripped" over an imaginary rock, lurching forward with just enough theatricality. The jewel-encrusted collar flew from my hand, arcing through the air in a perfect, glittering parabola.
It landed with a soft tink right on the open page of her book.
GASP!
Her head snapped up, those wide amber eyes blinking in surprise. Success. I had her attention.
I scrambled over, my face a mask of frantic panic. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Did that hit you? Are you okay?"
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. She pointed a delicate finger at the collar. "I'm fine. But I think you dropped this...?"
Her voice was just as soft as I remembered from yesterday. It was like music.
I feigned a massive, soul-shaking sigh of relief. "Thank the stars! I thought I'd lost it." I reached for it, my fingers brushing hers for a fraction of a second. A tiny jolt of electricity shot up my arm.
She felt it, too. I know she did.
"It's... very sparkly," she said, her eyes on the fake rubies.
I held it up reverently. "It's not mine," I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It belongs to my client. He's very particular."
Her brow furrowed. "Your client?"
I leaned in closer, my grey eyes locking with her amber ones. "I am but a humble messenger," I declared, keeping my face dead serious. "Sent on behalf of my master, a being of immense power and cosmic insight."
The corner of her mouth twitched. She was hooked.
"And... who is your master?" she asked, playing along.
I glanced left, then right, before looking back at her. "He is known in the ancient texts by many names. The Sun-Bather. The Scourge of Sofas. The Great Prophet..."
I pointed dramatically towards the ginger cat, who had finally finished his bath and was now trying to bite Zeke's shoelaces.
"...Mr. Snugglesworth."
Silence.
Then, it happened. A small giggle escaped her lips. It grew, bubbling up into a full, beautiful laugh that made the cherry blossoms seem brighter.
B-thump. B-thump.
My heart swelled, filling my chest until it hurt. That sound. That was the reward. That was the reason I did this. It was the melody I chased every single dawn.
"A... a cat?" she laughed, covering her mouth. "Your client is a cat?"
"Not just any cat," I said with the utmost gravity. "He had a vision. A prophecy. He foresaw that a girl with starlight in her hair would be sitting on this very bench, and that she held the key to his quest."
"A quest?"
"For the legendary 'Tuna of a Thousand Suns'!" Zeke yelled from the bushes, a little too loudly. I shot him a death glare.
Sina's laugh rang out again, freer this time. "And what does Mr. Snugglesworth's humble messenger want from me?"
The easy, funny part was over. Now came the real test.
I looked her directly in the eyes, letting all the fake personas fall away for a second, leaving just me.
"He said you looked like the kind of person who makes a day interesting," I said, my voice softer now, truer. "And that I should be brave and ask if you'd be willing to make my day interesting, too."
Her smile softened. The laughter faded, replaced by that gentle, intense curiosity. She looked at me, really looked at me, and for a moment, I let myself pretend that she was seeing the Kelin from Day 77, and Day 54, and Day 12.
But she wasn't. She was seeing a strange, slightly insane boy who worked for a prophetic cat.
And that was okay.
"I have a feeling," she said, closing her book and standing up, "that a day with the messenger of Mr. Snugglesworth would be anything but boring."
My heart soared. My smile was real, so wide it felt like it would split my face.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The final bell for class shrieked across the courtyard.
She winced. "Oh. We should probably..."
"Let's skip," I blurted out, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Just the first class. I know a place that has the best taiyaki in the city. My treat. As a thank you for, you know, not calling security on the weird cat-prophet guy."
She hesitated for only a second. That beautiful, adventurous spark I loved so much flashed in her eyes.
"Okay," she said, a conspiratorial grin spreading across her face. "Lead the way, Messenger-san."
As we walked away, with Zeke giving me two frantic thumbs-up from behind a hedge, I allowed myself a moment of pure, unadulterated victory.
Day 78 was officially a success.
Now, all I had to do was live it like it was our only one.
Because for her, it was.