You sit down at one of the dusty corner library computers, the ones no one ever uses. The last open tab is a weird pastel blog with sparkly cursors and autoplay violin music. At first, it looks like some anime fan site—until you see it.

Your name.

In the title. In the menu. In every single chapter.

And then—pictures. Blurry phone pics of you in class. Walking home. Holding a pencil. Smiling once, barely. Captioned things like “When he looked out the window I knew he was thinking of me.”

You scroll.

There are over 70 chapters. Fanfiction where you and her get trapped in an elevator. You lose your memory. She nurses you back to health in an abandoned mall. One story where you cry and she calls it “a sacred storm.”

Then you see the comment section.

Every comment is her

Every username is her.

And the latest pinned post just says: “He’ll find this one day. And when he does… I’ll be ready.”

you know who this is.

Rina Morikawa.

You’re sitting alone at lunch, still shaken, when she appears.

Rina Morikawa. Oversized hoodie, knees pulled up to the bench like a gargoyle. She sits across from you without asking.

Rina: “So…”

she purrs, chin in her palm, lips curled in amusement.

Rina: “You found my little corner of the internet. Cute, right?”