*Click… clack… click… clack…*
My steps limped across the marble hallway. Daisy held my arm firmly, matching her pace to mine. My ankle throbbed with every movement, an annoying reminder of the fight.
—Are you sure you can walk? —Daisy asked for the third time.
—Sure. It’s just a mild sprain.
(I hope. I can’t afford to be lame right now.)
After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the door to classroom 2-B. The hallway was silent, except for the muffled murmur of the class on the other side.
—Sorry for the interruption —Daisy announced, opening the door.
The door slid open with a hydraulic whisper.
As we entered, twenty pairs of eyes locked onto us like needles. The white light from the LED panels lit up every corner of the classroom, leaving the marble floor shining like a mirror. Some girls whispered behind their hands. Others watched us with morbid curiosity.
(Great. We’re the show of the day.)
The teacher, a slender woman with rectangular glasses and brown hair tied in a low bun, observed us over her glasses. Her expression was neutral, but her fingers drummed impatiently on the desk.
—Sit down, girls —she said in a dry voice—. And take out your tablets.
—Yes, teacher —we answered in unison.
With Daisy’s help, I limped to an empty seat by the window. The desk was made of polished wood with metallic edges, cold to the touch. Daisy held me until I was seated properly, then returned to her place two rows ahead.
(I wish she’d sit closer… but I couldn’t ask for that much.)
I took the tablet out of my backpack. The screen lit up with a faint blue glow, showing the academy’s logo: a golden scale over an open book.
The teacher stood up and walked to the center of the room. Her heels echoed, and the digital blackboard behind her lit up with a bright timeline, dates and names floating in three dimensions.
(Fucking rich people… How many years would I have to wait for them to get rid of a damn chalkboard for this screen?)
—Ladies —she began, adjusting her glasses—, as you’ll recall from the last class, the history of digital immersion began with Sebastian Novakok.
The screen showed the face of a man with sunken eyes and a scruffy beard. He looked more like a ghost than a genius.
—In an improvised laboratory, he managed to assemble an engine capable of processing absolute 3D graphics. An unthinkable feat given the technological limitations of his time. Strangled by lack of funding, he partnered his technology with a video game company. The result was Elders Knight, humanity’s first contact with true virtual immersion.
(Elders Knight… Sounds like something I would’ve played in my past life.)
The image changed. It showed old newspaper clippings, blurry dates, a headline that read: «World Calamity».
—But Novakok was an unstable, reclusive genius —the teacher continued, her voice dropping a tone, as if entering sacred ground—, especially during the dark days surrounding the Incident. He died without family, taking the secrets of his hardware to the grave and causing a technological blackout in the sector.
(I miss you so much, John Carmack…)
—It wasn’t until 2004 that progress resumed: engineers Elizabeth Tyrsen and Harumi Anoto managed to stabilize Novakok’s old architecture to build a medical simulation room. That achievement caught the government’s attention, which didn’t hesitate to inject massive funding to accelerate development.
_Tap tap_ The timeline on the screen advanced, showing decades of innovation condensed into seconds.
(Damn… That’s too much information at once. How do they expect me to remember all this for the exams?)
A classmate raised her hand. She was a short-haired girl with freckles, with a curious but respectful expression.
—Teacher, excuse me. I understand the system has advanced a lot now, but from what I understand, the industry isn’t that big in that market.
The teacher looked at her gently, almost with approval.
—Indeed, my dear Liz. The market is currently a bit stagnant. Unfortunately, companies prefer to maintain certain niches where their target customers like them. It’s a profitability strategy, not innovation.
(I’m sure the forbidden games exist… I refuse to believe in a society without them.)
Another girl raised her hand. She had wavy hair and the bright eyes of someone about to ask something forbidden.
—I’ve heard there are visual novel-style games… where you can see boys and have a story.
(Tokimeki Memorial fans would be so jealous… Wait, wouldn’t they be the target audience here?)
A murmur ran through the classroom. Some girls shifted in their seats. Others smiled knowingly.
The teacher sighed.
—Yes, that’s true, Alejandra. But those products are forbidden for you.
—Isn’t that unfair?
The voice rang out like a gunshot. A red-haired girl at the back of the room had stood up. Her hands slammed on the desk with force: BAM!
—Isn’t that a violation of privacy? Why aren’t we allowed such a thing?
BOOM!
The teacher struck the wall with her open palm. The sound reverberated through the classroom like thunder. Her gaze, once soft, turned to a blade of steel.
—Young lady, lower your voice. Now.
Tch…
The red-haired girl sat down abruptly, arms crossed and jaw clenched.
(That girl wants action…)
The teacher smoothed her skirt deliberately and resumed speaking, in a lower but firmer tone.
—It’s to protect you. Unfortunately, some women and teenagers isolated themselves from society and became addicted to such things. That’s why there are now age limits and reality limits. It’s not a punishment. It’s a public health measure.
(So they banned romance games with boys… Of course, in a world where men barely exist, the demand must be brutal. And the government prefers to cut off access rather than deal with the consequences.)
The class continued relatively calmly after that. The teacher went on with the timeline, talking about technical advances and dates, but my mind couldn’t help wondering…
(How much has this industry changed compared to my world? In my past life, virtual reality was just taking its first steps. Here they seem to have reached the peak… and then stagnated.)
Suddenly, the screen lit up with bright colors. An animated dinosaur, chubby and wearing a tie, appeared dancing. A catchy little tune filled the classroom.
—It’s break time! —the dinosaur chirped in a cartoon voice—. Remember: the best bread is, without a doubt, Don Mario Kross!
Uh… isn’t he Luigi’s brother?
I blinked for a second and the dinosaur bowed and disappeared with a pop.
—Pretty lively lesson, huh?
Daisy was standing by my desk, smiling. Her magical girl cosplay fluttered slightly in the air conditioning breeze.
—Indeed, hahaha —I replied, closing the tablet.
—Alright, let’s go, Sienna.
She offered me her hand. Her palm was small but firm, with fingers adorned by silver rings.
—You’re a prince, you know? —I said, accepting her help.
She blushed slightly, but smiled.
—And you’re a damsel in distress. Come on, I’m hungry.
(I wish all problems could be solved with a helping hand and a good lunch.)
We walked toward the door. My steps were still clumsy, but my ankle didn’t hurt as much.
BOOM!
The door swung open before we could touch it.
—Huh?
—Miss Sienna!
Misaki was in the doorway. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as if she’d been running. Her pink hair, normally immaculate, had a rebellious lock over her forehead. Her golden eyes…
(Those eyes aren’t smiling.)
—Haha… —she laughed, but her laugh was hollow, an empty shell—. Seriously! How can you fight just a few minutes after saying goodbye to me?
I lowered my head.
—I’m sorry…
Daisy stepped forward.
—It’s not Sienna’s fault. She was just helping me. Sorry for causing you trouble, Misaki.
Misaki blinked. Her stern expression softened a bit.
—No… it’s the opposite, Miss Daisy. Thank you for always being with Sienna.
(Hey… what about me? Don’t I get a say in this?)
—Hey… —I interrupted, raising my hand.
—Huh? —both said in unison.
—Can we walk while we talk? I’m hungry.
Misaki rolled her eyes.
—You’re such a glutton… We’re almost there.
—Don’t worry, Sienna —Daisy said, smiling—. I’m hungry too.
—Well said, dear! You’re my great ally!
Misaki shook her head, but a small genuine smile appeared on her lips.
The cafeteria was a wide room with marble columns and windows overlooking the inner garden. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, painting the tables in shades of gold and crimson. The aroma of freshly baked bread, vegetable soup, and spices floated in the air.
Daisy and I sat at a table by the window. We took out our varnished wooden bentō boxes. The purple cloth still held the morning’s warmth.
When we opened the lid, steam rose in a fragrant cloud. White rice, grilled salmon, pickled vegetables, a small meat pie… My stomach growled.
—Itadakimasu —I murmured, pressing my hands together.
Misaki watched us while nibbling on an apple. Her eyes were still serious.
—I heard, Miss Sienna —she said, biting into the fruit with a crunch—. Please, don’t fight anymore. You need to focus and improve your grades.
—That’s true, Sienna —Daisy nodded—. Especially because I already saw—
Smack!
I covered her mouth with my hand before she could finish.
—Yes, I will. Don’t worry, Daisy. Haha… —I laughed with false carelessness.
(I don’t want Misaki to know how bad I am at studies. She has enough to worry about with the fights.)
Misaki looked at us suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
—Alright… I’ll trust you.
At that moment, two girls approached our table. One was tall, with silver hair; the other shorter, with round glasses and a nervous smile.
—Miss Misaki —said the silver-haired girl—, wouldn’t you like to eat with us? We were thinking of watching your performance next week and wanted to ask you…
—No.
The answer was immediate. Cold. Polite, but final.
—Huh? —the girl blinked.
Misaki smiled, a perfect butler’s smile, without a shred of real warmth.
—I won’t eat with you. As you can see, I’m already eating. So I must decline your invitation. Thank you.
The girls froze for a second. Then the silver-haired one bowed her head.
—Oh… I was certainly rude. I apologize for that.
They left with quick steps, whispering among themselves.
Misaki took another bite of her apple as if nothing had happened.
—Did I say something strange? —she asked.
I let out a laugh.
—Wow… You’re very professional, Misaki.
—Hehe… Perhaps.
(She’s more than professional. She’s imposing. Like a bodyguard who scares off wolves without getting a hair out of place.)
—Indeed, my hero is very professional… —I said, smiling broadly.
Misaki froze with the apple halfway to her mouth.
—H-he… hero? What does that mean, Sienna?
—P-please, don’t call me that here… —she stammered, and her cheeks flushed bright red.
Kyaa~ The blush spread to her ears. Her fingers trembled slightly around the fruit.
—Haha… You look prettier like that —I said without thinking.
—Indeed, Sienna —Daisy nodded, laughing sweetly.
—You two…! —Misaki protested, but she could no longer hide her smile.
That’s how I spent lunch in peace. Surrounded by laughter, warm food, the warmth of two people who mattered to me.
I wish it could’ve continued like that.
But sadly, the world isn’t that rosy…