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

Kurogane-sensei let the salt fall from her hand, scattering across the floor like ground-up bones.

Her gaze swept the class, eyes steady.

Calculated.

"You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this," she said quietly. "Why I care. Why a bitter old woman with no magic is lecturing monsters, human, and spellcasters about truth."

She stepped forward.

No theatrics. No raised voice.

"The truth is simple: validation without honesty, sincerity, or truth is hollow. You chase it for its own sake long enough, and you forget what it was ever supposed to mean."

Kurogane-sensei turned to look at the girl in the back.

"Yugazumi-san. You asked earlier why people don't want truth? It's because truth tastes bitter, and validation is oh so sweet. It becomes sugar for the soul. Saccharin. Addictive. Poisonous."

She tapped her cane once, softly. The sound echoed like a hammer in a chapel.

"How many of you like Question Mark Cola?"

I raised my hand. Just like everyone else.

"But how do you feel afterwards? Hmm?"

She looked around the classroom.

I raised my hand this time.

"I see what you're getting at," I said. "I feel bloated and gassy."

Azuki snickered.

Kurogane-sensei continued.

"Exactly. Because it's bad for you. But, when you eat something that's good for you, while it might not be the most enjoyable thing, if you're honest with yourself, you feel better afterwards. Good, wholesome food provides nourishment for your hungry body, just like the truth will provide good, wholesome nourishment for your soul."

A few students looked around the classroom.

Kurogane-sensei smiled.

It wasn't a sarcastic, ironic, or jaded smile.

It was an honest one.

"You recognize it, don't you?" she asked. "You're hungry for that nourishment, aren't you? It's possible that you didn't even notice, but once you do… Well, the only thing for it is to stop lying to yourself."

The girl in the back, Yugazumi-san, raised her hand again.

"Kurogane-sensei," she said. "Can you give us some advice, please? Like… to start us in the right direction?"

The old woman seemed to consider this question for a moment before she answered.

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully. "As long as my advice doesn't become dogma. All I'm offering is advice. And do you know what that is?"

The girl shook her head.

"Advice is just the past with a little polish, pretending it knew what it was doing," she said.

"Validation isn't evil," Kurogane-sensei continued. "It isn't wrong to want to be seen. Heard. Loved. But without truth beneath it, it becomes a lie you tell yourself. A drug you feed your ego while your heart forgets how to beat."

The classroom was still. No scribbling. No shifting.

"So, with that in mind, when someone tells you who they are, believe them. But realize that everything changes too. You're not the same person who walked into this classroom, are you?"

No one breathed.

She gave a thin, weary smile. Not cruel. Not amused.

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Just simple.

"Take care of yourselves," she said. "So the universe doesn't have to."

Then she picked up her cane, walked back to her desk, and resumed writing in her black leather-bound notebook.

Class was over.

The chalkboard still said "Truth."

The salt still lay on the floor.

And I was still thinking about what it meant to take care of yourself before the universe had to do it for you as the students around be began to shuffle towards the door.

Azuki leaned over her desk.

Her round glasses magnified her golden eyes, and they reminded me of the moon.

Then I thought of last night. How I'd seen her standing over the onsen, like a mystic priest at a psychedelic ceremony.

But now, with the way she was looking at me, my brain immediately registered her as cute.

As soon as it did, I felt a reflexive: No, she can't be cute. She's Azuki.

And just like that, it was too late.

"Ryu-samaaa," she sang my name like a melody that was only half-joking. "Aren'tcha, you know… gonna ask for my number?"

I blinked.

"Oh, right! I'm supposed to do that, huh?"

She giggled, scrunching her nose up.

Stop. It's not helping.

She took out her cellphone, a flip phone with so many stickers covering the case that it was impossible to determine its original color.

"Okay, you got your phone ready?" she asked.

I took out my phone.

Oh? You're getting a girl's number? Way to go, stud!

Azuki's golden eyes widened when she saw my phone.

Then she gasped.

"Oh my gosh!" she squealed. "Your phone's, like, the coolest ever! It's totally talking to you isn't it? Wow, oh, WOW! What operating system is that? Can I see it?"

My phone's face lit up in panic, like it already knew what was coming.

Please don't let the girl with the sugar rush touch me! I'm afraid she'll either drop me or get pocky smears all over the screen.

Azuki raised an eyebrow and looked at me suspiciously.

"Ryu-sama," she began. "Are you holding out on me with pocky?"

Yuki floated beside me.

As cute as Azuki was, I felt better with Yuki close by.

"Are you going on about that weird plastic thing again?" Yuki asked, gesturing towards my phone.

Azuki giggled.

"It's a phone, Yuki. It's, just, like, newer than the ones you're used to."

Yuki looked at it skeptically.

I held it up so she could see it.

"Gracious, it's not like any phone I'm used to," she said. "I mean, really, where's the dial? How's one supposed to use that thing?"

She shook her head, adorably.

"It's like everyone in the future decided they'd rather just pick up a paperweight and play pretend than have an actual conversation."

Azuki erupted into laughter, but I thought about that for a minute.

"Yeah, I kinda agree," I said.

I felt my phone buzz.

Azuki had sent a message, but when I tried to read it, my phone screen looked like a mess of non-Euclidean geometry, eldritch scribbles, and colors that no phone should even be able to render.

"Azuki! What the hell is this?" I asked, looking at the mess of images littering the screen.

I tried to read the message… and instantly regretted it.

The screen twisted. Bent, and looked like the phone itself wanted to weep openly.

Letters shifted like insects crawling through a kaleidoscope made of screams.

I dropped the phone.

"Oh! Sorry, Ryu-sama! I must've sent that text in the language of dreams. I sometimes forget you humans can't handle that."

I saw my phone screen return to its blissful normal self.

No technology should have to "handle" whatever that was. Keep your dreams to yourself, flesh bag.

I laughed at Lah Lah's message.

"I think you broke Lah Lah's brain," I said. "You might actually be too chaotic for her."

Azuki shrugged.

"Well, that's her loss. Anyways you've got my number!"

She playfully shoved my shoulder as she got out of her seat.

"I'm taking Yuki with me to the tanuki meeting," Azuki said. "Don't be late on me, okay? I'll try to keep the other entertained, but they've got a notoriously short attention span."

I had no idea where the tanuki could possibly have gotten a reputation for being the yokai poster children for ADHD.

Yuki smiled at me.

"Let Azuki know when you're finished with your Literature Club meeting, okay?"

She looked at my phone suspiciously.

"I suppose you could try calling her on that… device," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Though heavens knows why they call it a 'telephone.' Mostly, it just looks like you're politely tapping a very confused rock."

I told her I'd let Azuki know.

Yuki gave me a look, the one that says she's already figured out three things I haven't.

I don't know why I was surprised. She always had a way of noticing the stuff most people missed.

She might make an excellent teacher after all.

Everyone else was already in Fushineko-sensei's class, in the middle of the Literature Club meeting by the time I got there.

As soon as I entered, Kanae turned towards me with a grimace.

"Ah, there he is now! Late too. I bet he got lost on his way here," she said.

Shion crossed her arms.

"He's only late because I had him sabotage your room. Good luck sleeping tonight."

Kanae's mouth dropped open.

She pointed her finger at me accusingly.

"What'd you do?" she demanded.

Shion took a breath and laughed.

"Relax, I was only kidding," she said. "Gosh, you're wound so tight."

I looked at Fushineko-sense who was sitting at her desk with a pleased look on her face as she watched Shion and Kanae bicker back and forth.

"Oh, I am so glad I agreed to sponsor Literature Club," she said to the student sitting beside her. "I was afraid it was going to be boring, but so far, I love everything about this."

I stood in the middle of a giant argument, and the only person with any authority to do anything about it had absconded her post in favor of being entertained by the chaos.

"I'm sorry," I said, interrupting everything. "I thought we were going to have a meeting about club etiquette."

Fushineko-sensei snorted a laugh.

"Kazeyama-san," she said with her grating feline whine. "We are. Can't you tell? Shion and Kanae are just discussing the new club president."

Kanae whipped around so quickly that her long ponytail reminded me of a helicopter or a second.

"You got anything to add, Mr. President?"

Yeah. Watergate.