The sound of the kettle beginning to whistle in the corner broke the awkward silence that had settled over the room. I took a seat at one of the middle desks. It felt weirdly natural to be here, even if my mind was racing with everything I'd studied over the last few days.
Natsuki was the first to move. She aggressively unwrapped a tray of cupcakes and marched over to me, sliding them onto my desk. They were decorated to look like little white kittens with pink hearts for ears.
"Well? Are you going to eat one or just judge them?" she asked, her arms crossed.
"I'm eating, I'm eating," I said, picking one up. "They look great, Natsuki. The detail on the icing is incredible. You must have spent a lot of time on these."
She huffed and turned away, but I didn't miss the small, satisfied tilt of her head. "Whatever. Just don't get crumbs on the floor."
Across the room, Yuri was focused on the tea. When she eventually brought a cup over to me, her hands were steady, but she wouldn't meet my eyes.
"I hope you find this... acceptable," she whispered. "It's a Tieguanyin Oolong. I thought it might go well with the sweetness of the cakes."
I took a sip, the floral scent hitting me immediately. I'd spent hours the night before reading up on tea varieties just so I'd have something to say to her. "The roast on this is perfect, Yuri. I read that Tieguanyin is supposed to have a distinct orchid aroma... it's exactly like the description."
Yuri froze. She looked at me like I'd just read her diary out loud. "I... yes. Most people just... call it tea. I didn't think you would be familiar with the specific variety."
Sayori hopped onto the desk next to mine, swinging her legs. "See? I told you guys! Eugene is full of surprises! Though... I didn't know you liked tea that much, Eugene. Usually, you're strictly a soda and manga guy."
"It's a new hobby," I said to Sayori, trying to keep my voice casual. "I've been trying to broaden my horizons."
BANG.
The sound of Monika's hand slamming against the wooden podium echoed through the room like a gunshot. We all flinched. Sayori nearly dropped her cupcake. Monika was standing up, her chair pushed back so hard it was still rattling. Her face was pale, her expression a mix of sheer frustration and a growing, frantic panic.
"Eugene," she said. She used the name with a strange, sharp emphasis, as if the word itself felt wrong in her mouth. "Can we talk? Outside. Now."
"Monika?" Sayori's voice was small and worried. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine, Sayori. I just need a word with our new member," Monika replied. Her voice was steady, but it was the kind of steady that suggests a storm is about to break. She didn't wait for a reply; she turned and walked out the door.
I set my teacup down. I looked at the others—Sayori's confused eyes, Natsuki's suspicious scowl—and then I stood up. "I'll be right back," I said, and followed her.
Monika was already halfway down the hall. She led me to an empty classroom three doors down, threw the door open, and waited for me to step inside. The moment I did, she slammed the door shut.
Before I could even speak, she grabbed the front of my blazer and shoved me. I hit the back wall with a dull thud. She was inches away, her green eyes wide and searching mine with a terrifying intensity. Her hands were trembling against my chest, her breathing shallow.
"What are you?" she hissed. Her voice was a jagged whisper.
I kept my hands down, trying to keep my breathing even. "Monika, what's wrong? You're acting crazy. It's me, Eugene."
"Stop it!" she snapped, her grip tightening on my blazer. "That name... 'Eugene.' That's not... you aren't him! Everything is wrong! You're not following the lines. You're talking about tea and hobbies and... you're acting like a real person!"
She pressed her forearm against my chest, pinning me harder against the wall. I could see the self-doubt flickering in her eyes—she was aggressive, but she was also clearly terrified that she was losing her grip on reality.
"I know how this works," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I know how the world is supposed to look. I know what's supposed to happen. And then you walk in, and nothing works! I can't... I can't even..." She trailed off, her eyes darting around as if she were looking for a glitch in the air. "Who are you, and what are you doing to my world?"
The air in the room seemed to turn cold.
The "Eugene" I had been playing—the confused, helpful student—vanished. I felt a surge of genuine annoyance, a sharp, cold edge that cut through my act.
"Your world?" I repeated.
My voice had dropped an octave. I didn't push her away, but I stood up straighter, forcing her to look up at me. My eyes turned hard, mirroring the seriousness of someone who had seen how this story ended five times over.
"You really think this belongs to you?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous. "You think you can just claim it because you can see the edges of the box?"
Monika flinched, her grip on my blazer loosening just a fraction. "I didn't..." She looked at me—really looked at me—and for the first time, she saw someone else. I was something she didn't understand. And in her world, the unknown was the only thing she truly had to fear.