I Hate Phones

I grunt. The feeling of an undignified ray of light lingering on my face stirs me awake… Forcing me to open my eyes against my will, only to shoot a dirty look at the not properly drawn curtains. Of course. That shitty ray of light is such a weakling it couldn’t disturb my sleep in another way. Which allows me to arrive at two conclusions.

    First, I hate myself.

    Second, it can’t be yet time to wake up.

    As I feel an object near my hand, I raise it to my eye level so I can (almost) effortlessly prove my assumption. Ah, yes. According to the digits displayed on my phone, I could have slept half an hour more IF not forgetting to draw these hanging pieces of dusty fabric.

    Wait.

    Something is off.

    I straighten up enough to reach for my glasses. Rectangular, sharp edges for a sharp girl, thick lenses for thick… Yeah. According to dad, the pinnacle of CSK. Or, for the lay public: Cool, Seductive,… Kakkoii. Though I shall admit, since the seventeen years I spent wearing them – born with? Maybe. Why do you care? Kiss yourself – never had I been the target of any desperate declaration behind the gymnasium. To think all these hours I, Yuzuha Kobayashi, spent training the classiest rejection in front of my mirror were for nothing… Oh, but I digress.

    Placing correctly the glasses against my nose, I raise once more my phone to my eye level. As I examine the basically boring pile-of-stone wallpaper, my conclusion is irrevocable. This bullshit is not my phone.

    Therefore… There’s only one thing left to do.

    Standing up and bidding farewell to my sole and only soulmate – bed, dearest – I walk to my desk. Put the unknown phone on it. And sit down before it with all due martiality. I wonder how it’s even possible for the army not having tried to enlist me yet… Shame on their lazy asses.

    My elbows against the desk, I lean my chin on my intertwined fingers.

    Okay. I have 26 minutes before the usual hour at which I prepare for school and quit my noble abode to eat breakfast. Thus 26 minutes to decide what I do with th-

    Annoying default ringtone.

    Annoying default ringtone.

    Ah. A call.

    Annoying default ringtone.

    Picking up the phone, I take the call and bring it to my ear. Or rather against my spiky hair.

“Darling!~ What do you wish for breakfast?” A deceitful manly voice trying – and failing – to take a twink tone answers. “I am-”

    Pop.

    Call ended.

    I slam the phone back against the desk.

    My ability to keep at the same time a professional neutralism on my face will always stun me.

    Oh, now I understand. I get it. I smell it. There’s only one explanation for what I’ve just heard.

    Replacing correctly my glasses against my nose, I brace myself to face the truth. The one they failed to hide from me.

    Ahh yes, I almost didn’t notice aliens have kidnapped me.

    But nothing can be hidden from me for long. Of course, the only way to explain that everything around me sounds so familiar – and by everything I mean this room, this desk with the scratches I made with my compass, the gold medals pinned on the violet wall won during chess tournaments and depicting star by star the Big Dipper… I snort. It will soon be complete. Oh, and of course my pyjamas with the planet patterns – is… uhh… what was I fucking thinking about again?

    …

    Ahh. Yes, yes. The only way to explain that everything around me sounds so familiar except for my phone is that aliens abducted me last night. Obviously. They brought me to their UFO after noticing my human potential. They analysed my breathtaking braincells and made lots of experiments on me before failing at the brainwashing. So, even if I think at the moment that this phone is not my phone, in reality it is my phone. I just don’t remember it properly.

    My chin leant against my hands, I now realise an even more disturbing fact. That not-my-phone being my phone means that the fake-twink call is. Actually. My. Boyfriend? Husband? But I am only seventeen years old……. Ok. Boyfriend. But such an adult voice? Oh I didn’t know I was into that.

    My, my.

    I’m pretty sure he fell for the glasses. No wonder he tried to sound like a twink, knowing me I must have forced him to-

    Wait. Are theses aliens watching me now? It seems likely that they have added a module into my brain allowing some sort of telepathy. Which means that they can hear every single thought of mine.

    Still sitting, placidly considering the unexpected turn my life is taking, I keep my absolute neutral expression while begINNING TO SCREAM IN MY HEAD.

    YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD CONTROL ME AND USE ME AS A SPY AGAINST MY WILL HUHH? YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD MAKE ME A BETRAYER OF THE HUMAN KIND SO YOU COULD PREPARE THE INVASION OF THE EARTH HUUH?? THEN. KNOOW. YOU. ARE. WROOOONG. BEHOLD MY REMOTE ATTACK YOU GRASS-COLOURED SHITS. I WILL CRUSH YOUR MINDS.

    While I am doing my best to destroy the aliens, the sound of a notification catches my attention. It doesn’t come from my not-my-phone-actually-being-my-phone phone, but from a place closer to my bed.

    Standing up, I enclose the suspected area only to lower my eyes and notice a phone on the floor.

    …

    I bend over and retrieve the identified object. My phone. No, really. My phone.

    I check the notification only for the pleasure of glancing at my wallpaper: the stunning torso of a certain handsome blond-haired anime man wearing a pink and lilac coat with diamond patterns over his shoulders. Hot.

    Okay. Conclusion. My phone being my phone, my not-my-phone is indeed not my phone.

    ‘Guess aliens did not abduct me.

    I sit back at my desk. Leaning my chin against the back of my hands.

    Back to step one. Except I have now two phones.

    Still, there remains one possibility. That phone may be a cheat skill.

    That makes sense if you consider that I’ve been isekai’d. The call probably was the phone’s voice itself, ready to transform into some sort of pervy mecha and fight for the world’s sake.

    What, actually, sucks. I wanted to be reincarnated into the demon lord, not the flat, chara-designless MC.

    I correctly replace my glasses on the tip of my nose.

    To get rid of the MC would be so easy with my experience in that field. I mean. I would just have to powwow them before they finish their replica explaining what they are boldly about to do and how to be evil is very very bad and that I shall perish so they bring back JUsTIcE to the world. Yeah. A single blast delivered by my Dark Claws of the Abyss and game over hero-sama.

    Then I’ll enslave the Human Kingdom and will twinkify them all before making them part of my harem. I’ll bath myself among tons of gold coins while getting my back and feet massaged. And, of course, one of them being wiping my glasses with the shirt he wouldn’t be wearing.

    I smirk, standing up.

    Ahh, whatever. Even if I’ve been sent into this foreign world as a hero, there’s always room for an anti-redemption arc.

    Now you could wonder how I can possibly still be in my room while in another world. Oh please, don’t you know your classics? That Dorothy girl already did it. Her whole mansion was brought to Oz.

    Walking ‘till my window, I proceed to open it.

    Beyond that thin barrier of glass, a whole new world awaits me.

    I lean forward as I slide open the already mentioned window…

“Shudder before me, unknown world. Yuzuha Kobayashi the First will conquer you all.”

    Birds chirping.

    Sky as pink as a girl’s cheeks in a shoujo.

    …And all I can see below are the same houses I’ve known for seventeen years. The same road, the same grandma crossing the street, heading to the bakery.

    ….

    One of the birds lands on the windowsill.

    ….

    I SLAM the window back in place and walk away from it.

    ‘Guess I’m still in my world.

    As I return to my desk, I notice the current time. Ten minutes left. Oh ok. Shit. I still have to figure out what I do with my not-my-phone.

    Well. As I wasn’t abducted by aliens nor isekai’d (this world is against me), I suppose it only leaves the non-romantic scenario. Someone penetrated my room last night.

    I begin taking a look around, checking if my computer is still there (it is), if so does my manga collection (THANKS GOD), if my moon-shaped moneybox is still whole (to be honest, I care more for the box itself than the few yens I stopped putting into it after realisation struck me).

    Crossing my arms after that inspection, I can legitimately conclude that nothing is missing. Weird. Unless my illegal visitor had Alzheimer’s – at which point I strongly recommend them to retire before they forget they’re not in their house and stay. And fall asleep in a more or less vacant bed. And awake to the screams of the true owners of the house. And have a heart attack. And die. And got isekai’d – then it’s absolute nonsense that nothing is missing unless… unless…

    Lowering my hands, I brush them against the line of my waist, gripping it.

    …they came to steal something else.~

    Me.

    My frail body couldn’t but draw an unfortunate and tragic loss to me. Ah how could they… To take what a delicate flower like me has of most precious. To open the forbidden doors…

    That’s where begins the lifelong drama of an abused teenager, her family torn by grudge, seeking revenge until she loses everything she has left…

    Was my intruder at least handsome?

    Shall I embrace the silence instead, to avoid my family suffering? Ah cruel world…

    The only proof I have left is the phone he forgot on the mattress… Well, far enough to get him arrested to be honest. And the call? That failure of a twink…

    Ahh the deceived one doesn’t even suspect that his lover spent their night in another’s bed. Poor man.

    But hold on…. Does that mean the he is a she or… No. I know.

    Under shock – yeah my features remaining neutral, kiss your mother – I cover my mouth with my hands.

    God, because of my perfection a man committed the sin with me… Oh no, that can’t be. Did I ruin a BL by making WITHOUT MY CONSENT a man straight?

    Oh no. No. That was a one-night mistake, right, Roberto? I know that Rodrigo is your true and only love,…

    At this exact moment, my phone’s alarm rings. The electric guitar grows louder. My favourite anime opening. There’s no more time left to ponder.

    Walking back to my desk, I open a drawer and rifle through it until grabbing and taking out a hammer I raise above my head…

    I shall sacrifice myself for the sake of BL.

    Without the hint of an hesitation, the hammer whizzes through the air and my not-my-phone shatters to pieces.

    Gone the sole proof. Gone with my virginity.

    The judgment rendered, I proceed to dress myself. Leaving my comfy pyjamas for my school uniform, adjusting the supposedly decorative piece of fabric called a ribbon in front of the mirror. Cursed choking material. Was it made in case a teacher feels the urge to kindly kill one of their pupils?

    There, done. I briefly check my reflection before nodding, hands on hips. Neat clothes, random spiking strands of jet-black hair on either side of my face. The hell you mean by a comb? It’s art. Plus, I won’t lose my time with such triviality (where did I even put that th*ng last time….).

    There are more important issues in life. Like breakfast.

    After throwing the broken remnants of the ex-phone by the window, I leave my bedroom.

“Good morning Yuzuha.” Mother’s voice greets as I join her and father, sitting down before a bowl of rice.

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” My father asks with an amused expression.

    What.

    I raise an eyebrow, reaching out with my chopsticks for a chunk of the grilled fish bought at the neighbourhood’s best shop. The owners are a couple of lovey-dovey oldsters. Peak.

“Yes?” I reply suspiciously.

    Mother chuckles. I begin to suspect them being in need of some sort of medication.

“You were so tired yesterday that you fell asleep on the couch, all drooling,” mother explains herself, “I even had to bring you to bed myself. That kind of reminded me of when you were still three heads high. Of course, the weight changed in-between.”

“Thanks for the unnecessary last remark.” I note matter-of-factly.

“By the way, darling,” my father chimes in, “did I wake you earlier?”

“Mmm?” My mother tilts her head to the side.

“Well, when I phoned you, it almost instantly hung up.” He sheepishly rubs a hand at the back of his head. “I thought I disturbed you.”

    ………

“Huhh? Oh, no. Now that you speak of it, I couldn’t find it this morning.”

    I put down my chopsticks on the table.

“Yuzuha, by any chance did you see it in your room? I might have forgotten it there.”

    I stand up.

“Yuzuha?”

    Grabbing my school bag, I lean it against my back, hand bent over my shoulder.

“You know, one day things are there, the next one they disappear. Life. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe. Maybe it’s time you change it.”

    I stop at the doorstep, taking a glance back at my wide-eyed mother.

“I’ll help you choose the wallpaper. And the ringtone.”

    Stepping outside our house, I take a few steps before halting. Raising my head towards the clouds, the wind waving my breathtaking dishevelled hair. I correctly replace my glasses on the tip of my nose.

    'Guess I should leave behind me my future career as an astrophysicist and develop instead a carrier pigeons’ business. For world’s sake.”