Unfolding Reflection

“What did he do?” Anon asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

"It's elephant toothpaste," Kira said, taking a cautious step back from the table.

Anon and I quickly followed suit, retreating instinctively, while Oberon remained seated, completely unfazed.

Three students suddenly backing away from their table was bound to attract attention. Several classmates turned their heads, eyeing the foaming reaction with a mix of curiosity and concern. A few whispered among themselves, but the teacher, who had already endured enough today, simply sighed before making his way over.

“I don’t even know how you go about making that,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“It’s actually really easy. First, you just–” Oberon began, only to be cut off as the teacher placed a weary hand on his shoulder.

“Found our culprit,” he announced flatly before turning his gaze to the rest of us. “Can you three clean this up?”

We watched as the foam inched over the top of the beaker. Instead of an explosive eruption, it merely oozed down the sides in a slow, unimpressive drizzle. It didn’t even reach the edges of the table.

That was…very anticlimactic.

"It was only me! They had nothing to do with it!" Oberon suddenly declared, standing his ground as the teacher’s eyes bore into him.

Was he taking the full blame for this?

[It was fully his fault.]

At least this way, Anon wouldn’t get in trouble. But was it enough to work?

“Obviously, it’s your own fault,” the teacher said bluntly. “Did you think I’d somehow mistake this for someone else’s doing?”

“What?" Oberon looked genuinely confused. “So my sacrifice was pointless?”

The three of us nodded in unison.

His shoulders slumped as he let out a dramatic sigh, allowing himself to be dragged out of the classroom. A single, exaggerated tear slid down his face as the door shut behind him.

Farewell, Oberon…your one full chapter appearance will be missed.

That was the last time we ever heard of Oberon.

[He’s just being lectured by Mr. Sebastiane. He’ll be back after this class]

With that, the three of us cleaned up the minor mess with ease. The most notable part of the rest of class was the complete absence of our teacher. He never returned, leaving us to our own devices until the bell rang.

As soon as class ended, we grabbed our things and headed to lunch.

“The school’s lunch is always just…whatever,” I said to Anon as we stood in line.

“Pretty sure that’s a universal law,” he joked.

Kira had already gone ahead to claim a table, mentioning she brought her own lunch. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the same thing as Oberon’s.

“So, where do you usually sit?” Anon asked, glancing around the cafeteria.

“Wherever there’s an empty table,” I replied. “I try to finish quickly so I can wander around.”

“Real. I usually just sit outside and take a quick nap.”

“You and Kira would get along,” I noted. “Both of you are perpetually tired.”

We kept up our conversation until we finally got our food: popcorn chicken and a dinner roll. Nothing exciting, but as long as it didn’t taste bad, mediocre food was fine.

I glanced at Anon, who was staring at his tray as if it held some deep secret.

“Are you the big eater type?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” he replied. “But it feels like forever since I’ve had a hot meal.”

I pressed a finger against the popcorn chicken.

It’s lukewarm.

“As long as you’re happy,” I said, deciding not to comment.

We spotted Kira at a table and started making our way over—until Anon’s tray was smacked clean out of his hands.

The food flew, spinning midair for a brief moment before splattering onto the cafeteria floor. The sharp sound cut through the noise, turning heads. Confusion settled in before I even had time to process what had happened.

Then, I saw her.

The one person I least wanted to deal with.

“Did you seriously think it’d be over just because you walked away?”

A high-pitched voice rang out. Standing beside us were three girls, their gazes locked onto Anon and me.

“Didn’t miss me too much, did ya, Anon? Cloey?” Viveka smirked, her presence as suffocating as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Viveka stood far too close for comfort, her signature smug expression plastered across her face. Just behind her stood her ever-loyal right-hand girl, while the third member of her entourage hovered slightly off to the side, watching but not engaging.

“Didn’t miss me too much, did ya, Anon? Cloey?” Viveka taunted, her tone dripping with mockery.

I met her gaze, forcing myself to remain calm. “Didn’t think you’d be making another appearance for at least two more chapters,” I replied as politely as I could.

Viveka let out a short, amused chuckle. “Aren’t you cute?” she sneered before flicking her fingers toward Tana. “Tana, popcorn chicken me.”

Tana obeyed immediately, plucking a piece from her tray and placing it into Viveka’s waiting mouth. She chewed it briefly, then, without hesitation, spat it onto the floor right in front of me.

“You looked hungry, Anon," she cooed, tilting her head. “Why don’t you eat something?”

I exhaled slowly. “Did I do too much when we first met?” I asked, my voice laced with dry amusement.

Viveka’s smirk widened. “Oh, you could’ve won an Oscar with that performance,” she said, feigning disappointment. “It’s just a shame you’re friends with her.” She flicked her eyes toward Cloey. “Maybe we could’ve been friends.”

The mock sympathy in her voice only made my stomach turn. She pouted theatrically, stepping closer as if daring me to react. But before she could close the distance–

She jerked backward.

Tana and Yoruko stiffened in confusion, their gazes snapping toward the sudden force pulling Viveka away.

Oberon.

He stood in front of her now, his grip had been firm but effortless, having yanked her away without a hint of hesitation. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was clear, he wasn't letting this slide.

“My bad for being late,” he said with a grin.

“And here I thought the story would push your reappearance back a bit,” I responded.

“I was feeling hungry and saw an innocent popcorn chicken get wasted, so I just stepped in. It’s only a bonus that it happened to be you getting bullied.”

He phrased it all jokingly, but his guard was unmistakably up the entire time. His hands were at his sides, and after explaining, he turned back to Viveka.

“Why are you touching my friend?” he asked.

He knelt in front of Viveka, who looked even more shocked than the other two combined. Her usual smirk faltered for a split second before she regained her composure.

“You’ve never gotten so hands-on before, Oberon. Did I hit a nerve?” Viveka said after composing herself. “What if I told you that Anon over there–”

Cutting her off without a single thought, he replied, “Don’t care. Never asked.”

A flicker of irritation crossed her face, but Oberon didn’t give her a chance to react. He stood up and turned away, heading back toward us when Viveka suddenly called out.

“I have a proposal!”

“...”

He froze in place, waiting in silence, his back still turned to her.

“Not for you though,” Viveka said, pointing toward her main target. “But for Cloey.”

Our eyes turned to Cloey, who didn’t look surprised at all. If anything, it was as if she had been waiting for this.

“What is it?” Cloey asked, her voice steady.

“Friday, February 7th, after school. I want to talk this out. Everything. And I just want it to be you who comes.”

“And what do I get from this?” Cloey questioned, folding her arms.

“I promise that I’ll never cross paths with you ever again. Neither I nor the other two will ever bother you or your friends again.”

A tense silence followed. The cafeteria noise buzzed around us, but it felt like we were trapped in a bubble separate from the rest of the world.

What’s with her? The two times I’ve seen her talk to Cloey, she’s been both hostile and oddly civil. It’s like she can’t pick a side. Her expression wasn’t one of arrogance this time. Instead, there was something else lurking beneath it—uncertainty? Frustration? Maybe even hesitation.

Oberon narrowed his eyes, arms crossed, clearly unconvinced. “It’s so obviously a trap.”

Cloey, however, remained still, her expression unreadable.

“Fine,” she said, locking eyes with Viveka. “Maybe it’s time we do end this once and for all.”

A smile crept onto Viveka’s lips. No, more accurately, it was a mix of emotions: satisfaction, relief, worry, or something else I couldn’t quite place.

The weight of her words settled over us. There’s no way we should take her word at face value. Even still…

My gaze landed on Cloey. Her expression was unwavering, filled with a quiet determination that unsettled me.

Why do you have such a determined expression on your face?