The Rabbit Hole (part 1: Awkward feelings)

Owen woke up to the unholy symphony of clanging pots and pans—a sound so alien to his normally silent apartment that his brain needed a full sixty seconds to process that no, this wasn't some elaborate stress dream. He groaned into his pillow before rolling out of bed, his hair defying gravity in ways that would make physics professors weep.

"Lilith," he muttered, shuffling zombie-like toward the kitchen, "is going to be the death of me." The irony of that statement—considering her original plans for him—wasn't lost on him.

The scene that greeted him in the kitchen was somewhere between domestic disaster and avant-garde performance art. Lilith stood at the stove, wielding a spatula like it was some kind of mystical scepter. She wore one of his old t-shirts as an improvised dress, the fabric hanging awkwardly on her slender frame. The air carried the distinct aroma of what could only be described as "breakfast's dying wish."

"What," Owen asked, his voice still rough with sleep but sharp with suspicion, "are you doing?"

"Cooking," Lilith replied without looking up, her tone suggesting this should be obvious even to someone of inferior intellect. "It is customary in this realm to prepare food upon waking, correct?"

Owen stared at her, then at what had once been bread but now more closely resembled archaeological evidence of a civilization lost to fire. "Yeah, but most people don't turn breakfast into a science experiment gone wrong."

She tilted her head—that infuriating, bird-like gesture that somehow made him feel like he was the alien in this scenario. "Science experiments are fascinating. Perhaps I should document this process for future reference."

"No," Owen said firmly, stepping forward to extract the spatula from her grip before she could weaponize breakfast any further. "No documenting. No experimenting. Just... sit down and let me handle this before we both starve to death in my kitchen. That'd be a pathetic end to your grand interdimensional quest, wouldn't it?"

Lilith raised a single eyebrow but complied, settling onto a chair with the poise of someone attending a royal coronation rather than sitting at a scratched plastic table. As Owen salvaged what he could of their meal, she pulled out her ever-present notebook and began scribbling observations about human morning rituals with the intensity of an anthropologist discovering a lost tribe.

"Do all humans consume caffeine as though their lives depend on it?" she asked, gesturing toward the coffee machine that Owen was now hovering over religiously.

"Yes," Owen replied without hesitation, pouring himself a cup that was less beverage and more survival tool. "It's called sanity maintenance."

By the time they reached school, Owen had consumed enough caffeine to power a small nation. Unfortunately, it did nothing to prepare him for the circus awaiting them in the hallways.

Word traveled faster than light at Shizuka High—Einstein be damned—and by lunchtime, the rumor mill had produced three leading theories about their relationship:

Rumor 1: They were secretly engaged in an arranged marriage set up by mysterious overseas families.

Rumor 2: She was a long-lost relative sent to spy on him for reasons involving inheritance and possibly murder.
Rumor 3: They were part of some elaborate underground conspiracy involving aliens, time travel, and possibly the yakuza.

Hikaru, predictably, latched onto the third rumor with the enthusiasm of a conspiracy theorist who just found out the government admitted UFOs were real.

"This is HUGE!" Hikaru exclaimed during lunch, slamming his hands on the table with enough force to make their milk cartons jump. "You're basically living proof that extraterrestrial life exists! Do you know what this means for my documentary?"

Owen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose—a gesture that was quickly becoming his signature move. "For the last time, Hikaru, she's not an alien." He paused, glancing sideways at Lilith. "She's just..."

"An interdimensional royal?" Hikaru suggested helpfully.

"...eccentric," Owen finished, gritting his teeth.

Lilith, seated beside him with perfect posture that made everyone else look like they were melting into their chairs, smiled serenely. "Eccentricity is subjective, Owen. To some, I may indeed appear otherworldly."

"That's not helping," Owen muttered, burying his face in his hands, wondering if it was possible to suffocate yourself using only your palms.

While Hikaru continued spinning increasingly wild theories that somehow connected Lilith to crop circles and the disappearance of socks in dryers worldwide, Lilith turned her attention to the cafeteria food. Specifically, the bento boxes that students traded around the table.

"These containers..." she murmured, holding up a plastic tray filled with rice and vegetables, studying it with the intensity usually reserved for ancient artifacts. "Are they symbolic offerings to the gods of sustenance?"

Owen glanced at her, then at the tray, his expression a masterpiece of exasperation. "They're lunchboxes, Lilith. You put food in them and eat it. That's it. No cosmic significance whatsoever."

Her crimson eyes widened slightly. "So there is no ceremony involved? No ritualistic prayers or blessings?"

"Not unless you count saying 'thank you' to whoever made it," Owen replied, picking at his own lunch without enthusiasm.

Lilith nodded thoughtfully, jotting this down in her notebook with the seriousness of someone recording the secret to eternal life. "Fascinating. Your culture places great emphasis on gratitude."

Before Owen could respond with something appropriately sarcastic, a shadow fell across their table. He looked up to find Taro—the star athlete who'd nearly decapitated Lilith with a dodgeball during gym class—standing there with a small entourage of fellow sports-club members.

"Hey," Taro said, flashing a grin that probably made freshman girls swoon but just made Owen's stomach turn. "Mind if we join you?"

Owen opened his mouth to say something along the lines of "actually, we were just leaving to go literally anywhere else," but Lilith beat him to it.

"Of course," she said warmly, gesturing to the empty seats with a graceful sweep of her hand. "Please, sit."

Taro slid into the seat across from her, his confidence radiating. "So, Lilith, right? Heard you're new around here. Need someone to show you the ropes?" The implication being, of course, that Owen was doing a subpar job of it.

Owen felt something hot and uncomfortable twist in his chest. "She's fine," he said, the words coming out sharper than intended.

Taro shrugged, unfazed by Owen's tone. "Just being friendly. No harm in that, right?"

As the two boys exchanged subtle glares that weren't subtle at all, Lilith watched with quiet amusement, her eyes flicking between them.

"Your species uses dominance displays even in casual interactions," she remarked casually, as if commenting on the weather. "How intriguing."

Both Owen and Taro froze, staring at her.

"Uh... yeah," Owen said awkwardly, wanting to sink through the floor and possibly continue sinking until he reached the Earth's core. "Dominance displays. Totally normal human stuff."

Taro laughed nervously, his confidence faltering for the first time. "Right. Anyway, Lilith, if you ever need anything—"

"I'll let you know," she interrupted smoothly, closing her notebook with a soft snap that somehow felt like the closing of a courtroom case. "Thank you for the offer."

The rest of lunch passed in tense silence, punctuated only by Hikaru's whispered commentary about how this interaction proved his alien theory even further, especially the part where she referred to humans as a "species," which was definitely not something any normal human would say, right?

On the walk home, Owen couldn't shake the irritation that had been simmering beneath his skin all day. It bubbled up inside him like a pot left too long on the stove, threatening to boil over. He kept replaying the lunchroom scene in his head, particularly Taro's smug grin and Lilith's infuriating calmness.

"You didn't have to encourage him," Owen snapped finally, the words bursting out of him.

Lilith blinked, her expression genuinely puzzled. "Encourage whom?"

"Taro!" Owen said, his voice rising despite his best efforts to keep it level. "You practically invited him to hit on you!"

She considered this for a moment, her head tilting slightly as she processed his accusation. "He was merely attempting to establish rapport. It would have been rude to dismiss him outright."

"Rude?" Owen echoed incredulously, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and causing a businessman to swerve around them with a muttered curse. "Lilith, you're supposed to avoid drawing attention to yourself, remember? Not flirt with every guy who looks at you!"

Something flickered across her face—a brief shadow that might have been hurt or anger, there and gone so quickly he almost missed it. Her expression hardened slightly, the temperature of her crimson eyes dropping several degrees. "I am not flirting. I am observing. There is a difference."

Owen threw up his hands, frustration making his gestures wild and exaggerated. "Whatever. Just... try to blend in next time, okay? We don't need any more rumors spreading around school."

Lilith frowned, her eyes narrowing in a way that made the air around them feel suddenly heavier. "Are you ashamed to be seen with me?"

The question hit Owen, knocking the wind from his lungs. "What? No!" he sputtered, the denial automatic but somehow hollow. "That's not—ugh, never mind."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the space between them charged with unspoken words and tangled emotions. When they finally reached the apartment, Lilith disappeared into the shower without another word, closing the door with a soft click that somehow felt louder than if she'd slammed it.

Later that evening, Owen found himself standing by the window, watching the city lights flicker. His earlier frustration had faded, leaving behind a heavy residue of guilt that sat in his chest like a stone.

Was he ashamed to be seen with Lilith? No—that wasn't it. Not exactly. But her presence disrupted everything he'd worked so hard to build: his quiet routine, his carefully maintained anonymity, the walls he'd constructed to keep the world at a safe distance. And yet...

He glanced toward her closed door, the door to the room once was a living room, wondering what she was thinking behind it. Was she hurt by his words? Angry? Or simply indifferent, as she so often seemed to be?

For the first time since she'd crashed into his life with talk of heroes and destinies, Owen allowed himself to consider that maybe—just maybe—he wasn't the only one struggling to adapt. That behind her regal poise and otherworldly confidence, Lilith might be just as lost in this world as he sometimes felt in his own.

The realization didn't make things simpler. If anything, it complicated everything. But as he turned away from the window, Owen felt something shift inside him—not a solution, but perhaps the beginning of understanding.

He glanced one more time at Lilith's door before heading to his own room, wondering what tomorrow would bring in this strange new reality they were both navigating, step by uncertain step.