Chapter 9: Yume Hoshino is a very special girl.
Yume Hoshino had always had one problem, which was that she thought too much, and when she wasn’t thinking too much, she was browsing the internet.
Normally, both things happened at the same time, but before starting high school, most of her free time was spent in front of a screen.
Her favorite site was 6chan, a massive page full of forums where people argued about every imaginable topic.
Video games, anime, movies, music, relationships, and much more.
Yume visited the relationship forums especially, not because she had any experience but for exactly the opposite reason.
That afternoon she was reading a recent post from a user who had opened a thread.
"How do I win over a guy?"
Yume immediately opened the thread, and thousands of replies appeared below.
She read the first one.
"Invite him over to play video games, and, when he least expects it, you tackle him from behind and make him yours."
The second.
"Learn everything about his interests, like his favorite ice cream flavor, what kind of girl he’s into, his blood type, his exact address, what time he’s home alone..."
The third.
"Ask him what his favorite dinosaur is and, while he’s explaining, slip something into his drink... you know the rest."
Yume nodded.
’A very clever move.’
She kept scrolling.
"Give him something valuable and, once he accepts it, tell him it’s not a gift so he can’t refuse to be your boyfriend."
’Excellent idea.’
"Build a fortress and lock him inside."
’Very smart... although that might scare him off.’
"Invite him to watch a ten-hour adult film marathon."
’Maybe too soon.’
After several minutes, the one who had posted the thread wrote a reply.
"What if I just try talking to him normally?"
Yume stared at that message for a few seconds and decided to respond.
"That’s WAY too advanced!!!"
"Too advanced?"
Another reply came in.
"Nobody can pull that off."
Yume nodded and typed again.
"Doing that could tip him off before you can make your move."
"Did you guys get rejected just for talking to them?"
That last message reminded her that she had never spoken to a boy her age for more than five minutes either.
She decided to drop it and closed the page when suddenly she heard someone knock at her door.
Before she could open it, a female voice from the other side said.
"Sis, Mom wants to know what you want for dinner!"
"Just tell her anything is fine..."
After answering, she let herself fall onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
’I wonder what high school is going to be like.’
It was a question she asked herself constantly.
Her new life would begin soon.
New friends, new experiences, new opportunities, and maybe even...
A boyfriend.
Yume buried her face in her pillow.
’I’m not asking for much, universe.’
Just one chance.
One, and nothing more.
After that, she could take care of the rest herself.
When high school started, Yume was excited, nervous, and confused.
The first day went by relatively normally.
She met people, attended classes, tried to find her footing, and also discovered something important.
High school was exhausting, especially when she stayed up late browsing 6chan, but that particular morning she was more tired than usual.
The class was quiet, too quiet, and Yume rested her head on her desk.
’I’ll just close my eyes for a second.’
That second turned into several minutes, and, when she opened her eyes again, the classroom was almost empty.
Yume looked around, checked the time, and shot to her feet.
"No way!"
She grabbed her things and took off running.
"I’m going to be late!"
Her footsteps echoed through the hallways.
She turned one corner, then another, and kept running.
’I’m going to be late!’
She was so focused that she didn’t see the person in front of her and ran straight into someone.
"Ah!"
She hit the floor, and her things scattered everywhere.
’Great, right when I was cutting across!’
Yume opened her mouth, ready to complain, but then she looked up and saw him.
A boy her age, who was very close to her, much closer than any boy had ever been before.
Yume completely forgot what she was about to say.
’...’
Her brain didn’t respond, it simply stopped working.
The person in front of her hurried to get closer.
"Are you okay?"
Yume kept staring at him.
’He’s a boy.’
It was a very simple observation, but it was the only one she could form at that moment.
’I ran into a boy.’
Her heart started racing.
’That boy is talking to me.’
It didn’t help that he was kind, that he seemed worried, and on top of everything, that he was helping her.
None of that helped, absolutely none of it.
’The universe heard me!’
But before she could do anything, somewhere in the back of her mind an imaginary version of herself appeared.
That version was pointing at Noah.
"Go for him!"
"What?"
"Now!"
"Right now?"
"Can’t you see it? The universe is handing him to you on a silver platter!"
The imaginary version started running toward Noah, but then another version appeared and slapped her.
"Don’t be an idiot!"
The first one stopped.
"Huh?"
"You’re moving way too fast!"
"And just let him get away?!"
"Just act like a normal person!"
"How do you do that?"
"I have no idea!"
While that imaginary argument played out, Noah kept helping her.
"I’m really sorry, did you get hurt?"
For Noah it was a normal question, but for Yume, it wasn’t.
For her, that sentence sounded completely different.
’He’s worried about me.’
Her heart sped up even more.
The first imaginary version reappeared.
"He just gave you the green light to marry him!"
The second one hit her again.
"Shut up!"
Yume snapped back to reality and opened her mouth.
"I’m totally fine!"
She said it in a way that made Noah look startled.
Yume’s imaginary conscience put a hand over her face.
"You’re ruining it!"
"What do I do?!"
"Fix it!"
"How?!"
"Say something more normal!"
Yume reacted.
"It wasn’t your fault."
It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.
Noah seemed to relax a little, and that calmed Yume down.
While he picked up her things, she kept watching him, trying to memorize every detail.
Then she had an idea, quietly slipped out her phone, took a photo, and tucked it away.
’Perfect.’
One of her consciences chimed in.
"Well, at least now you have material for your lonely nights..."
Then came that question that escaped her mouth before she could stop it.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
The silence that followed was awful, and the imaginary conscience appeared again.
"Why did you say that?!"
"I don’t know."
"You haven’t even talked for a full minute!"
"I’m nervous, okay!"
"Do you want to end up like the other girls you hang out with who can’t get a date?!"
Yume wanted to disappear, but luckily, she managed to correct herself, more or less.
Then Noah answered and walked away, leaving Yume with a lot of unanswered questions.
From that moment on, a very serious problem began, which was that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
During class, during breaks, during lunch, and even while she was trying to study.
The photo she had taken of him didn’t help either.
She had saved it, then created a folder, and then made a backup copy, just to be safe.
’There’s nothing weird about that.’
She told herself.
’This is completely normal.’
Her imaginary conscience watched her.
"It’s not normal."
"Yes, it is!"
"It’s really not."
Yume ignored her conscience.
This was normal for her.
The next day she started looking for him.
Every time she had a break, she walked around campus and somehow always ended up near wherever Noah was.
That happened again and again.
The strange thing was that Noah seemed to be avoiding her, or at least that’s what she thought.
Every time she spotted him, he seemed busy, and she could never find the right moment to talk to him.
’I just need one opportunity.’
Just one normal conversation with nothing weird thrown in.
Although Yume’s definition of "normal" probably needed some fine-tuning.
Meanwhile, Noah kept taking up more and more space in her thoughts.
Yume rested her head on her desk at the end of the day.
She looked at the photo one more time and smiled.
"We’ll meet again."
She put her phone away, completely convinced that this was a reasonable promise, and entirely unaware that Noah was trying to do exactly the opposite.