Chapter 2

I open my eyes, and I get up, finding my body leaning more to one side, my hand sliding off the duvet of covers, then landing shoulder first onto the carpet floor.

"Ow."

I wince at the pain that gnaws from my left shoulder down to my left hip, but I manage to catch a glimpse of the plastered ceiling above me. As I take my time to peel the duvet of covers off my sweat-stained body and reach for the edge of the bedside table to help me stand up I take in my surroundings some more. When my feet land on plush carpet, I ignore the blood rushing to the top of my head, looking to the wooden furniture worn and faded in color, years old sports magazines and books lying around on top and underneath the bed, and a half-opened closet filled with little to no clothing and accessories. Taking my hand off the edge of the bedside table, I lower my head to study it next, having come into contact with a layer of dust growing atop it.

I'm in Ryoma's old bedroom except-

"Hey."

"EEP!"

Hearing the sound of someone call out to me all of a sudden makes me jump and hold onto the edge of the table once more.

I allow my head to quickly turn towards the door of the room ahead of me.

Ryoma gives me a blank stare, simply blinking a few times, which in return forces me to give him a sheepish smile.

"The bathroom is over there. Use these and change into these. Here," Ryoma submissively orders me around as he points in the direction of where I should go with his free hand and walks a few steps forward to practically throw a clean towel, a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and women's clothing at me.

Although clumsily, I catch each and every one.

The moment I lift my head up and get ready to question him, however, I catch Ryoma already closing the door.

Because of the way he keeps treating me I make a face in disgust with the urge to curse at him.

Before I can do so I notice the door's knob turning and the door opening once more.

"After washing up come into the kitchen over there," he submissively orders me around again.

And before I can reply back to him, he closes the door again.

I remember him being indifferent towards those he doesn't know, but has Ryoma always been this cold?

Then again, it's not every day a stranger comes into his life and tells him they are from another world. As well as asks for their help. Knowing he has kept my identity a secret from anyone he knows so far as he has allowed me into his home and given me something to not only wash myself with but given me something new to wear, I can't help but be grateful.

If I were in his shoes, I would act the same way.

Staring at the items I hold in my arms with nothing but empathy and understanding, my eyes trail up towards the door, and I take in a deep breath before making my way out of the room.

As I walk through a narrow hallway, I allow myself to become mesmerized by how traditional Ryoma's parents' house truly is. From the embroidered linen walls to the laminate wooden flooring coated in light to darks hues of tan to mahogany. In contrast, the wooden furniture scattered across the hallway and in the living room I come into are much cleaner with less dust and more shine.

Inside the bathroom, just as traditional and clean.

Finding my reflection in the rounded mirror in front of me, I drop everything in my arms all at once atop a wide countertop beside an oval vessel sink.

My hair is frizzy and tangled in knots. My clothes are wrinkled and stained in dirt.

Ryoma saw me like this?!

I shake my head at myself as I curse at myself whilst slowly turning to my right to get ready for a bath.

After I clean myself from the dried sweat on my body and the makeup stained on my lips, I change into the clothing Ryoma gave to me, likely clothes that belong to his mother - a pastel tee and midi skirt. I as well as hang the towel Ryoma gave to me to use on the towel rack across the mirror and place my dirty clothes inside a wicker hamper next to it before turning the lights off and leaving the bathroom with damp hair.

I walk through the hallway and make a right through a squared archway, passing by Ryoma who has been patiently or impatiently waiting for me at a small dining table in a corner of the kitchen. Walking around it, I sit in a cushioned seat across from him, feeling his eyes on me as I do.

I should be extra careful of what I say out loud from now on. Who knows what will happen to me from here on out if I don't.

Enticed by the will of having my voice heard I take advantage of the uncomfortable silence, "It's the same. Everything. I live, study, and work in Japan, so I would know. The only difference is you, Echizen-san. All that surrounds your world is all in-"

"Here?"

Ryoma holds in his hand, a manga book. The cover of it, an illustration with his face on it.

At the sight of it my eyes slowly widen and I rise from my seat.

I point at the book and stutter to next question Ryoma who is calm with his eyes never leaving me as if studying my every movement, "Where- W-Where did you get that?"

"It fell out of your bag," Ryoma tosses my purse atop the table.

With an uneasy feeling growing in my chest, I grab my purse and hug it to my chest.

"But that's not possible because I dropped it at the bookstore..or..did I?" Conflicted, instead of talking to myself inside my head, I backtrack about what happened at the bookstore out loud, "So why was that in there?"

From the corner of my eye, I notice Ryoma rise from his own seat, "There are more of these?"

I glance at Ryoma. Afraid to mention anything else, I nod.

My shoulders jump at the sound of the book slamming against the table.

"I don't know what's going on and it looks like neither do you even though there has to be an explanation for this, which is why I can't leave you alone."

"I'm glad you at least believe me."

Ryoma's eyes meeting mine, I drop my eyes down atop the table.

"What is it? If there's something else you know say it."

There is something else I know. What has been fearing me amongst anything ever since.

"It's as if time has passed by here. The book you're holding is a part of a series. Meaning, it starts and goes up to a certain time of your life. It would make more sense if when I got here you were as you are in the book, but that's not the case at all. Compared to the books, you've aged."