The new cycle hummed beneath me.
Smooth. Clean. Nothing like the faded blue one I'd lost. Father had finally delivered—a week late, because apparently even in another dimension, parental timing was unreliable.
I pedaled slow.
No rush. School started at eleven. The exam was today. History. First semester. Real exam, not the mini one.
History.
Twenty-three books.
Flashcards.
Angy's songs.
I still couldn't believe that happened.
The village passed by in its usual morning rhythm. Farmers heading to fields. Kids running. An old woman sweeping her porch with practiced efficiency.
I smiled. Just a little.
They woke me at five in the morning.
For this.
For an exam.
Because they care.
Strange.
But not bad.
The river appeared ahead. The stone bridge. I slowed as I crossed, listening to the water burble beneath. The sun was up now—warm and golden, burning off the last of the morning chill.
Focus, Nams.
History.
The Ilas Treaty.
The Mauryan Dynasty.
The Gupta Empire.
Dates. Names. Significance.
I know this.
I hope.
I reached the other side. Kept pedaling.
The road stretched ahead, lined with houses and small shops. Normal. Peaceful. Beautiful in its ordinariness.
Then—
"STOP! STOP! STOP!"
A figure burst from a side path. Running straight toward me. Arms waving. Hair flying.
I slammed the brakes.
The cycle skidded. Nearly tipped. I caught myself just in time.
The figure kept running. Stopped right in front of me. Bent over, hands on knees, gasping for air.
"Haa... haa... haa..."
Black hair. School uniform—the same one as mine. White shirt, blueish skirt, black coat. The same colors as Role of Nurturing Higher Secondary.
I stared.
She straightened up. Caught her breath. Looked at me.
Red eyes.
Red eyes.
Like Arcueid.
Like—
"Oh thank god!" She grabbed my handlebars. "You're from my school! Same uniform! I saw it! I was running and I saw it and I thought—" She gasped for air again. "I need help. I need your help. Please tell me you can help."
I blinked.
"I... what?"
"My certificate! My school transfer certificate! I forgot it at home! I was on my way to school—it's my FIRST DAY—and I realized I left it on my desk and now I have to go BACK and the school is THAT way and my home is THIS way and—" She gestured wildly in opposite directions. "—I can't be in two places at once! I don't have that power! Do you have that power? Probably not. No one has that power."
She kept talking.
Didn't stop.
Words pouring out like water from a broken pipe.
"I'm Kurumi, by the way. I don't think I said that. Or maybe I did? I don't remember. Everything is chaos right now. Complete chaos. My brain is chaos. My life is chaos. This morning alone—I woke up late, I couldn't find my other shoe, I ran all the way here, and NOW this. THIS. On my FIRST DAY. What kind of first day is this? A disaster. That's what it is. A complete and total disaster."
She talks.
A lot.
Like Angy.
But different.
More... frantic.
"Kurumi." I cut her off. "What do you need?"
She stopped. Blinked.
"A ride."
"What?"
"A ride! To my apartment! I need my certificate! If I go back on foot, I'll be late, and if I'm late on my FIRST DAY, they'll think I'm irresponsible, and if they think I'm irresponsible, they'll tell the teachers, and if they tell the teachers, I'll get a reputation, and if I get a reputation—" She was spiraling again.
"Kurumi."
She stopped.
Breathed.
"Sorry. I ramble when I panic. I panic a lot. It's a problem."
"I noticed."
She had the decency to look embarrassed. Just for a second.
Then: "So... ride?"
I looked at her. Red eyes. School uniform. Out of breath. Desperate.
She's just a girl.
On her first day.
Panicking about a certificate.
Normal things.
Normal problems.
I sighed.
This is my life now.
Giving rides to strangers who talk too much.
"Get on."
She climbed on behind me.
Grabbed my waist.
Too tight.
"Sorry! Sorry! I've never been on one of these before! Is this how you hold on? Am I doing it right? Don't crash! Please don't crash! I have an exam to take! Well, not today—today is just orientation? I think? They said orientation? But also paperwork? I don't know. Everything is confusing."
"Kurumi."
"Yes?"
"Breathe."
She breathed.
I started pedaling.
Her apartment was in one of the few big buildings in Chensa. Not a mansion like mine—but close. Modern. Several floors. The kind of place that stood out among the small houses and rice paddies.
"That one! That one!" She pointed. "The blue building! Third floor! Apartment 3C! Well, it's not MY apartment—it's my aunt's apartment? But she's not here? She travels for work? So I'm staying there alone? It's weird? But also kind of nice? No one tells me what to do?"
She lives alone.
Like me.
Sort of.
I stopped at the building. She jumped off. Ran inside.
I waited.
Counted seconds.
Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five.
She burst out again. Waving a piece of paper.
"Got it! Got it! Let's go!"
Back on the cycle. Hands on my waist. Still too tight.
"Sorry! I'll try to relax! I'm not good at relaxing! My aunt says I have 'excess energy.' Whatever that means."
"It means you talk a lot."
She was quiet for a second.
Then: "Yeah. That's fair."
We rode toward school.
She talked the whole way.
About her aunt who traveled for work. About the city she came from—somewhere called Veyrath, which I didn't recognize. About how she'd never lived alone before and it was weird but also kind of freeing.
About how she was nervous about her first day.
About how she hoped people would be nice.
About how she'd seen me from the side path and thought, "That guy looks like he knows where he's going," and decided to flag me down.
"You looked confident," she said. "Like you belonged here. Like you knew what you were doing."
Confident.
Me.
If only she knew.
"I've been here a few weeks," I said. "Still figuring it out."
"Well, you LOOK like you've figured it out. That counts for something, right?"
Does it?
Looking like you belong.
When you feel like you don't.
"Maybe."
We reached the edge of the school.
Students everywhere. Clusters of them, talking, laughing, looking nervous. Exam day energy.
"Stop here!" Kurumi tapped my shoulder. "Stop stop stop!"
I stopped.
She jumped off. Straightened her uniform. Tucked the certificate safely into her bag.
"Thank you! Seriously! You saved my life! Well, not my life—but my first day! Which feels like my life right now! I don't know how to repay you!"
"Don't worry about it."
"No, really! I owe you! I'm Kurumi, by the way. I don't think I actually said my name properly. Kurumi. What's yours?"
"Nams."
"Nams." She tested it. Smiled. "Nice name. Strong. Mysterious. Fits you."
Mysterious.
That's one word for it.
"Well, Nams—" She was already backing away, waving. "—thanks again! Maybe I'll see you around! Good luck with whatever you're doing! Exams? Classes? Surviving? All of the above!"
She turned. Ran toward the school.
I watched her go.
Kurumi.
Red eyes.
Talks too much.
Like someone else I know.
But different.
More... alive.
I shook my head.
Started pedaling again.
Focus, Nams.
Exam.
History.
The Ilas Treaty.
Twenty-three books.
Flashcards.
Angy's songs.
I know this.
I hope.
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