I Fell In Love With A Girl Who Died Before I Was Even Born

The taste of stale coffee still clung to my tongue, mingling with the musty scent of old books and asphalt.

I squinted at the sunlight blasting through the window as I pushed through the glass doors, the distant hum of a car barely reaching my ears.

I'd no sooner stepped out of the Clarksburg Public Library and onto the parking lot.

Then—

The aroma of teriyaki hit me, and the harsh buzz of fluorescent lights snapped me out of my daze.

I wasn't in the library parking lot anymore.

I wasn't even in Clarksburg. I was in Bridgeport at the Meadowbrook Mall Food court, seated at a table.

Mid-conversation.

"You okay, American boy?"

The voice was sharp, teasing but laced with subtle authority that made me feel like I was on trial.

Across from me, a Japanese girl with fiery orange/reddish hair and amber eyes that held far too much knowledge than her age allowed.

What the hell?

"You okay, American boy? You were spacing out just now."

Her tone was light, yet there was a weight to it, like she knew secrets I couldn't even begin to imagine.

Suddenly, my brain caught up with my racing heart. I blinked, glancing down at my watch.

But, of course, I forgot to check the time.

Again.

"Huh?" I managed, blinking.

Everything about her distracted me, from the way her hair seemed to move like flames to the way her eyes soaked up information.

And then she started talking, as if she'd been waiting for this moment.

"You were just about to tell me what anime and manga you like," she said, tilting her head, eyes glittering.

Of course I was. Why wouldn't I?

"I like a lot of supernatural ecchi."

WHAT?!

I blurted out a litany of titles.

"Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs. Rosario + Vampire. Yokai Girls."

Shut up shut up shut up!

"Oh, and High School of the Dead—not supernatural, but a tragedy they never finished it."

My brain screamed abort, but my mouth was already on autopilot.

Lana was grinning. "Ohhh," she purred, amber eyes flashing. "You're a naughty American boy, aren't you?"

I wanted to vanish beneath the table.

Instead, she laughed: a soft, deliberate sound, and reached out, tapping my shoulder like we were sharing some kind of secret.

Or even worse, like she already knew and was just waiting for me to admit the truth.

"Ohhh, so you're a naughty American boy who likes ecchi!"

I froze.

Wait. Was she… teasing me?

"I—uh—yeah. I guess so," I admitted, feeling like I'd just been completely exposed and somehow survived.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She leaned in, just a little too close, like she was about to whisper something dangerous. But instead, she asked:

"Why? What is it about supernatural ecchi that you like? Are you just an otaku, or is there more?"

Her voice was playful, but there was weight behind that question, a test.

I almost answered without thinking, but I caught myself.

The fan service appealed to me when I was younger, but now that I was older my answer had changed.

"It's deeper than fanservice," I said.

"So, you like the fanservice, but there's more?"

It sounded like a question, but she was leading me to complete my thought.

"There's something about the setting," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I always wonder what it'd be like to live in a supernatural world. Not just the fun, goofy parts, but to have real consequences."

She cradled her chin, considering.

"What sort of consequences are you talking about?"

"Okay, take the trope: monster high school. No one explores how scary it'd be to just walk down the hallway. Or what lunch is like. It's just a cute background. But if you think about it, it'd be terrifying."

She looked up at me, her amber eyes sparking with mischief. "The setting sounds perfect… but what about your fanservice? What about your youkai girls?"

Somehow, that question felt heavy. But she asked, and I felt compelled to answer.

"Take a catgirl. She's cute when she's a drawing. Ever consider what a person would look like walking the way a cat does? Like a cat wearing a human disguise? I mean, let's look at the consequences of what being a monster really is."

I hadn't meant to go on such a tangent.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Lana nodded slowly, her expression shifting.

And for the first time, I saw it—something flickering beneath the surface of her gaze. Gears turning. Like she had just decided something.

"Oh yes," she murmured. "That'd be interesting. That'd be something I'd like to see."

The way she said it sent a shiver down my spine.

It seemed like the world shifted beneath my feet.

Weight.

Consequences.

This was important.

I looked back at my watch, still forgetting to check the time.

Who was this girl?

Why was I here?

How did I even get here?

"Lana—"

But she suddenly sprang up from her chair, way too quickly for a normal person.

"You really want to know who I am?" she asked, leaning forward.

Her face was only inches from mine.

"Really? Even if the price is high?"

I didn't even hesitate.

"Yes."

Her grin stretched abnormally wide.

"Then you'd better hurry, American boy," she said, stepping back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You don't want to be late for your first day of high school!"

My blood turned to ice.

Wait. What? My first day of high school?

I was in my forties.

And yet—as soon as she spoke the words I felt panic explode in my chest. I needed to go.

I couldn't be late; why the hell was I at the mall?!

I jumped up and ran, bolting past her like a man possessed, shoving through the mall doors—

And right there, yellow paint glistening in the afternoon sun.

A school bus.

Waiting for me.

Lana's voice drifted through the air, playful and warm. "Good luck, American boy."

And then, just as I passed her, something soft brushed against my leg. A soft, tickling sensation.

Her fox's tail.

I spun around, searching wildly, but she was gone, leaving only a lingering sense of mischief and surreal danger.

My head was screaming questions I didn't have answers to.

Why was I here?

Who the hell was she really?

I wanted to stop, catch my breath, and figure out what had just happened to me. I still couldn't process how I'd even arrived at the Meadowbrook Mall, much less gotten into a conversation with a Japanese girl half my age.

But before I could even think straight, my feet were already moving, like someone else had taken control.

I knew this wasn't right. Every instinct begged me to stop.

Yet, I kept walking, straight towards the bright yellow school bus idling silently outside the mall doors.

I recognized it immediately, but something about it was off—its color too bright, too vivid.

It didn't belong.

The sickly-yellow stung my eyes.

My feet hit the steps, and just before I went inside, I could swear I heard Lana's voice, soft and amused, whispering in my ear:

"Careful what you wish for, American boy."

Then the door shut behind me, sealing my fate.

I know what a school bus looks like.

This wasn't it.

This was wrong. The yellow was too bright, artificial, painful to look at, like ordinary yellow had taken a strong dose of LSD.

Looking at it made my eyes itch.

But just before I climbed on, I'd squinted at the side of the bus:

SPATIAL DISTRICT SCHOOLS – NO. 321

Now, sitting on the bus, the full weight of everything began to hit me at once.

A sharp, cold, wave of panic roared through my spine.

Spatial District Schools?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

A man sat in the driver's seat. At least, I think he was a man.

His face was so aggressively plain that my brain refused to process it. No wrinkles, no stubble, no lines—like a freshly-printed mannequin of a human being. His cap cast just enough of a shadow that I couldn't quite tell if he had eyes.

But I could feel him watching me.

Something was off about him. He stared down at me with the look you give someone who's already lost.

"Boy," he muttered, shaking his head. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

The door had already slammed behind me. There was no leaving the bus now.

I felt confused, disoriented, and numb at the same time.

But I stepped towards the back of the bus.

As I walked I noticed how old everything seemed.

No camera in the corner. No GPS navigation beside the driver.

The door operated on an old hand-crank like when I rode to school in the third-grade, and the CB radio had a dial instead of buttons.

This bus felt old the way a guest bedroom with a blinking 12:00 digital clock feels old.

But there were no cobwebs. No dust. No spiders. No tears in the seats.

And that's what was so strange about it. The bus itself looked like it could have pulled out of 1983, except—everything was clean.

Bright.

The colors were saturated unnaturally.

And the air on the bus felt tingly. Electric.

Alive.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

I didn't want to sit too close to the driver. If he was working with Lana—and at this point, I was sure he was—I wanted as much distance as possible.

I slid into a seat near the back.

Outside, the Meadowbrook Mall was still there.

Then the bus moved, and I saw the driver take a quick look at me in the mirror.

"You ready for this, kid?" he asked.

We pulled forward, driving down the Meadowbrook Mall exit and toward I-79.

Then—reality shifted like a skipping record. One moment, the sunlight was warm against my skin. The next, shadows stretched long and jagged across the bus windows.

I blinked.

The sky was burning orange. Then deep purple. Then black.

My hands clenched the seat in front of me. "What the hell—"

Then it was night.

"Hey, kid. Tunnel's coming up. Hold your breath," the driver yelled to the back.

Up ahead his headlights hit a tunnel carved into the side of a hill.

A tunnel that shouldn't exist.

There are no tunnels in Bridgeport. I've lived here my whole damn life. Where the hell is he taking me? Where am I?

Panic surged through my chest. I pushed myself up, gripping the back of the seat in front of me.

I turned toward the driver, my voice coming out hoarse.

"Just where the hell do you think you're taking me? Where are we? What day is it? Because it was just sunny a few seconds ago! Who are—"

The tunnel swallowed us whole.

The air vanished.

I tried to take a breath, but my lungs refused to pull anything in.

The air simply stopped while the world held its breath.

A pressure built in my chest, slow at first, then crushing.

I gasped again. My eyes filled with stars.

My knees buckled, and I hit the seat hard, my head swimming.

What the hell is happening to me?!

And I gasped, pulling in a mouthful of air.

"What—"

A low chuckle drifted from the front of the bus.

"Relax, kid," the driver muttered. "You'll hurt yourself. Take it easy, okay?"

My teeth clenched. "None of this is easy!"

I forced myself to look up. The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead of us. I couldn't see the exit.

Only darkness.

The driver didn't even glance at me as he spoke.

"I get it. First day in a new high school." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Believe me, though. You're going to the right place. Everyone's nervous about their first day of high school. Especially when it's away from what you're used to."

I blinked, not understanding. "No! I have no idea what you're even talking about! Why're you calling me 'kid'? What happened? I'm a forty-four year old man!" I yelled, trying to rationalize my way out of this.

The driver just scoffed. "What're you talking about, kid? You think you're the class clown?"

I shook my head. "You're not making any sense. None of this makes any sense!"

And he just shrugged and kept driving.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

He finally glanced back at me. "Hey, if you think there's been a mistake, take it up with the boss-lady."

"Who?"

"Geez, kid, you're dense. You gotta know who I'm talking about, right?"

Lana.

Then—

We burst out of the tunnel.

My eyes stung as bright, white morning sunlight exploded onto the side of the bus.

I blinked. The sky was pale gray, clouds rolling over a landscape I didn't recognize.

Thin, skeletal trees lined the roads. Their branches were barren and twisted. Like they had died a long time ago.

And beyond them, in the distance—

A town.

It didn't look like any city in West Virginia that I had ever seen. And perched above the town like a looming vulture, a grey wall circling a gothic-looking castle that vaguely suggested a school.

My chest tightened. "W…w…where the hell am I?" I rasped, rising to my feet.

The bus slowed.

The driver smirked, leaning back in his seat, but his expression didn't match his eyes.

His flat, empty eyes.

The doors groaned open, the hiss of air brakes sounding weirdly like a sigh.

"End of the line, kid."

I stepped off the bus and into the open air.

The first thing I did was look around for anything that felt familiar.

"Lana?" I said, only half expecting an answer.

One thing was certain, I wasn't going to just hang out in the middle of the dead woods. I was going to find a way back to the mall, or the library or wherever in West Virginia I could get.

When I turned around to ask the driver where I should go, the bus was already gone.