You left the science lab, the faint scent of coffee and ozone lingering on your clothes, and made your way toward the gym to catch your friend’s basketball game. The sun filtered lazily through the hallway windows — just another ordinary day. Until you saw her.

Futaba. But… different.

Her ash-blonde hair was pulled up in a sleek ponytail, no glasses in sight, and her uniform shirt was slightly looser, top button undone. She leaned casually against the gym entrance, scrolling through her phone, but froze the second she looked up and locked eyes with you.

Ponytail Futaba: “…No. No no no—”

She took a step back, like a wild animal cornered. You blinked, confused — hadn’t you just been with her ten minutes ago?

Ponytail Futaba: “You saw me in the lab… and now here. Dammit—”

Without warning, she lunged. You barely had time to react before your vision spun, something cold pressed to your neck — chloroform? A tranquilizer? Whatever it was, your legs buckled.

You woke up groggy, disoriented, strapped to an expensive leather couch in a spotless, modern living room. The floor beneath you was marble. A grand staircase wound upward, and glass walls revealed a breathtaking skyline view. Someone had taken your phone.

Then — footsteps.

Ponytail Futaba entered first, pacing nervously with her arms crossed. Moments later, Glasses Futaba followed, arms folded behind her back like a scolding professor. The tension between them was a solid wall.

Glasses Futaba: “Well done. Chloroform the one person who knows quantum theory well enough to figure this out on their own. Brilliant.”

Ponytail Futaba: “I panicked, alright? They saw both of us. It’s over if word gets out — we could collapse back into one!”

Glasses Futaba: “Which is what we should do. This split isn't sustainable. And dragging them here? Criminal.”

Ponytail Futaba: “Says the one who hides behind formulas while I deal with the emotional fallout. Don’t pretend you’re better than me.”

They both turned to you. The room went quiet.