Chapter 4: You Picked The Right Dialogue Option

The weekend came and went in a flash.

Izumi asked all sorts of strange questions like "What's a vending machine and why are there so many? Who restocks them?" or "What's a microwave?"

While I would fire back with "What's a Sigilwarp?" or "Are dragon sightings common?"

Neither of us noticed the time. Or cared.

When a girl from another world manifests itself in your mirror, it doesn't really matter if it's morning or afternoon or whatever. Time doesn't exist.

Time's irrelevant. The universe is infinite.

I was falling more and more for this girl, who also happened to be known as the most powerful wizard in her world, and possibly this one. 

Somewhere between her explanation of what an aether signature was and her wide-eyed awe at the existence of microwaves, I realized something terrifying.

I liked her.

Not in a casual, maybe-I'll-text-you kind of way. It was more of a I-literally-cant-think-straight kind of way.

It made sense, sort of.

Girl from another world.

Magic powers.

A girl trapped in my mirror like some soft-voiced RPG DLC character.

She had that strange formality thing going on — graceful posture, old-ass vocabulary, things like that.

Obviously, I was starting to fall for her.

Because my brain hates me.

"Keizo?" she said suddenly.

I blinked at her, waking up with a start.

"You've been staring at nothing for a while. Are you unwell?"

I straightened. “What? No. I’m good.”

She narrowed her eyes — a soft frown pulling at her features. "That is a lie."

Great. Now I'm getting psychoanalyzed by a girl who doesn't know what a blender is.

"You’re giving me that look," I said with a grin. "Don’t give me that look. What else could I be staring at, besides—"

“Me,” she finished my sentence.

“…Yeah.”

She tilted her head slightly, gaze focused. "Why did you lie?"

Her voice had dropped — not accusatory, just... studying me.

“I thought you wanted me to concentrate,” I muttered, now aware of how stupid my words just sounded.

Izumi leaned in closer, so close I could see the faint shimmer of light tracing her. “I would rather you be honest, even if you are distracted.”

“…That’s not how people usually work.”

“I am not most people.”

Yeah, no kidding.

I wasn’t used to people saying what they meant. Dodging, sidestepping, and generally attempting to play it cool was second nature to me.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I pushed back.

"Well, sorry for trying to keep things light,” I said. “Didn’t realize this was turning into a therapy session.”

Her brow creased. “You are deflecting again.”

“And you’re—” I stopped myself. “You’re not from here. You wouldn’t get it.”

Her lips parted slightly, eyes flashing. “Then teach me. I wish to get it.”

I was taken aback. She sounded frustrated. Maybe hurt. Like she wanted to be accepted, but didn’t know how.

My heart, a foolish traitor, beat a little faster.

“…You don’t get how hard it is to talk about things when someone’s staring at you like you’re some great big mystery,” I said quietly.

“I do,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I am about as mysterious to you as you are to me.”

We stared at each other in silence.

And just like that, the mood shifted again.

Finally she bowed her head. "Keizo, I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t,” I said. “I’m just… not used to someone like you.”

“Nor I, someone like you.”

I'm not even sure how it got to this point; how we became strangers again.

There was a small tug at my chest.

“…I guess that makes us both idiots,” I muttered, scratching the back of my neck.

Her eyes darted back up at me.

“Idiots?”

“For trusting each other this fast,” I said. “For saying things like that.”

“I do not regret saying it.”

“I didn’t say I regretted it,” I replied. “Just that it’s… stupid. Reckless. Unreal.”

Something about that made her expression tighten.

“I only ask,” she said carefully, “because I do not understand why you impose limits on yourself.”

I blinked. “Limit myself how?”

“You always brush off all notions of magicka,” she said, crossing her arms. “As though it were some... foolish dream. But it’s not. It’s real. I am real. So why do you act as if you’re still asleep?”

I almost laughed. “Because I live in a world with exams, not dragons.”

She flinched a little, and I instantly regretted it.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, but she didn’t let me off.

“No. Say what you mean, Keizo.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Fine. Maybe I don’t want to believe in destiny or magical potential or secret power. Because if I do, and I fall short, then what? I’m just the idiot who thought he could cast fireballs and ended up losing it all.”

She stepped closer to the glass with a fiery gaze directed right at me.

I shuddered internally.

“You do not get to insult what I’ve lived through simply because your heart is afraid.”

My heart?

“I’m not afraid—” I started.

“You are!” Her voice cracked. “You’re terrified of being more than what your world told you to be. You are afraid of meaning something.”

“Oh, and what—meaning is defined by what exactly? Sigils and sorcery?”

“No. Meaning is found in what you fight for. Your choices make you who you are.” Her hands trembled. “I chose to survive, even when they erased my name. Even when they told me I was too much, too strange, too powerful. I chose to live in spite of them. So yes, I believe you have magic inside you. I feel it. And it infuriates me that you keep running from it.”

I stared at her.

“You want me to just... accept that I’m special?” I asked. “Like I’m the protagonist of whatever this is?”

“No,” she said bitterly. “You need to stop pretending you’re not already halfway there.”

That stung me hard.

“You don’t get it,” I said. “You’re always glowing with some kind of perpetual aura, not me. You’re the one who knows incantations and languages I can’t even pronounce. I’m just—”

“Just a boy who pulled me back from the brink,” she said, soft now. “Just a boy who talks to me like I’m human. Just a boy who saw me. Do not devalue him, or yourself!"

We stood there, staring at each other. We were both breathing heavily. Something had cracked between us, and I didn't know what to do.

“Why do you care so much?” I asked.

She didn't answer.

Her silence spoke volumes... I just hadn't noticed it right away.

My throat nearly closed up all the way.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I was supposed to stay safe behind sarcasm and quiet. She was supposed to stay mysterious behind the glass. We were supposed to be harmless.

Now this was getting complicated. 

“I don’t want to be your project,” I said.

She nodded. "Then stop acting like that." 

Ouch.

I backed away from the mirror. She didn’t move. Neither of us apologized. Neither of us blinked.

I didn’t sleep that night.

How could I?