Volume 4—Chapter 74: It’s that name ring a bell?
Hey… Irana here
Have you ever felt like something in your life is just slightly off? Not anything dramatic. Just… off. Everything looks the same. Your room is still a mess in all the familiar ways. Your friends laugh at the same jokes. Your routine marches on like clockwork. But somewhere under the surface, something doesn’t line up. It’s like reality quietly shifted a few inches to the left when you weren’t looking. And no one but you seems to notice.
I’ve been feeling that way lately. I can’t explain it. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just stress. Or maybe...
“Hey Irana, are you still upset about that parfait?” Onee-chan’s voice cuts through my thoughts, light and casual as always.
I blink, pulled back into the now. We’re in our room. The lights are dim, the air smells faintly of the hand lotion she always uses. She’s lounging on her bed with that lazy, innocent look that makes you question if she’s secretly a mastermind or just really good at avoiding brain activity.
“…No,” I mutter, maybe a little too quickly. I don’t even know if I’m still thinking about the parfait anymore.
“Really?” she tilts her head, raising a brow like she’s trying to read me. “Because you’ve been staring into space like you just found out your favourite manga got cancelled.”
I roll my eyes and turn away. “It’s not about the parfait.”
“…Then what is it?” she asks, softer this time.
I hesitate. Should I tell her? I feel like something’s wrong, and I don’t know what. That I’m scared it might just be me?
But instead, I shrug and say, “Forget it. It’s dumb.”
Onee-chan doesn’t push. She just lets out a small “Hmm,” and leans back, grabbing her phone.
I wish she had pushed a little.
Because maybe… just maybe… she’d notice it too.
“What are you guys talking about? Was it still about the parfait?” Viola stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped over her head, cheeks still slightly flushed from the hot water. Her hair was damp and smelled faintly of lavender shampoo as she plopped down on the bed beside us, stretching her arms with a yawn.
“Nothing…” I said quickly, not really in the mood to rehash anything.
Viola raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because from the vibe in here, it sounds like emotional damage is still being processed.”
“Onee-chan started it,” I said under my breath, not exactly accusing, but not hiding it either.
“Well, Irana does seem to still be upset about that parfait,” Onee-chan chimed in, completely unbothered. She leaned over the edge of her bed, sipping casually from her water bottle like she wasn’t poking a hornet's nest.
“Tch. Whatever.” I crossed my arms and stood up. “Let’s just go to the cafeteria and have breakfast.”
“Wait… can we go together? I still need to dry my hair and fix my uniform properly,” Viola said, clutching her towel as she glanced toward the mirror with a hint of panic.
“I’m not waiting. I’m already starving…” I said, walking out of the dorm without looking back.
“Irana, you dummy!” Viola called after me as she clutched her damp towel dramatically.
“Well, Irana, I’ll catch up with you later,” Onee-chan said, patting Viola’s shoulder. “I’ll head to the cafeteria with her once she’s ready. Don’t eat everything before we get there.”
“Tch… whatever.” I then slam the door shut.
Maybe I’m just being too emotional, but I can’t help myself.
“My my… what do we have here?” a voice said from beside me, smooth and laced with amusement. “Did you have a fight with your Onee-chan?”
I blinked and turned my head. Standing there was a tall, elegant girl with long, dark hair tied neatly into a high ponytail.
“Uh…” I mumbled, caught off guard.
She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head slightly. “Yukari. Yukari Fiolera. Have I not introduced myself to you yet?”
“Not that I remember,” I replied, eyeing her cautiously. I didn’t recall ever speaking to her, but she acted like we were old acquaintances.
“Well then, what a shame. We’ve been neighbours all this time, and we’re only now talking.” Her smile widened. “Mind if I walk with you to the cafeteria?”
I hesitated for a second, unsure of what she was really after, but… I didn’t feel like being alone either.
“Sure,” I said with a nod.
Her smile grew a little softer, a little deeper. Like she had just confirmed something she’d suspected. She stepped in beside me, and we started walking together, the hallway unusually quiet.
As we walked side by side, I expected her to start a conversation, something casual, maybe teasing. But she didn’t say a word. She just kept pace with me, her steps quiet, her presence oddly calm. For a while, the silence was almost too loud.
We were already halfway to the cafeteria when she finally spoke.
“I faintly remember we talked before. Along with two other girls. My roommates, actually.” Her voice was soft, like she was recalling a distant dream.
I glanced at her, confused. “Really? I don’t remember that.”
She turned her eyes to me, her smile still polite, but there was something off about it. “It breaks my heart, you know. Not only did you forget, but so did everyone else.”
The way she said it sent a strange chill up my spine. Her tone was sad, almost melancholic, but her smile didn’t waver. In fact, it deepened.
“I live alone in my dorm,” she continued. “I’m supposed to have roommates. Two of them. But somehow… I’m the only one there now.”
She laughed softly, as if trying to shrug it off, but the sound was hollow.
“Unbelievable, right?” she added, glancing at me with that same unreadable smile.
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or venting. Or maybe both.
Where is she going with this?
“Have you ever wondered,” she began, her eyes not on me but staring ahead, “that the world you wake up to tomorrow might not be the same as the one you lived in yesterday? And if that’s true… then what does that make today?”
I blinked, trying to follow her line of thought. The words didn’t quite make sense, not logically. But I understood what she meant, or at least felt the weight behind them.
“Like… something’s slightly different?” I asked.
She turned to me, eyes lighting up with a spark of recognition. “Exactly!”
Her smile grew wider, genuine yet still strange. “Something happened yesterday. Or maybe the day before. I was sure of it. I could remember every detail just yesterday… but now?” She shook her head, her tone turning quietly frustrated. “It’s all hazy. Slipping like it’s all just a dream.”
I nodded, slow and uncertain, unsure what to say. I didn’t know if I believed her, but I didn’t want to interrupt either.
Then, without warning, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, worn notebook. The pages looked creased from being flipped through too many times. She rifled through it, murmuring to herself.
“Ah… here it is,” she muttered, stopping at a page and staring for a moment, as if reading something deeply personal.
She paused.
And then, looking straight at me, she asked, “Minami Kotori… is that name ring any name?”
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.