I was determined to have a normal school day.
No weird future clues.
No time-pausing.
No roof rendezvous with mysterious chapter-counting boys.
And absolutely no Naomi Hug Pillow flashbacks.
I was going to pretend yesterday didn't happen. It would be buried with all the other embarrassing Reika Moments™, like the time I accidentally stopped time to avoid a sneeze and forgot to unpause for ten minutes.
Totally normal.
Totally fine.
I arrived at school early.
Avoided eye contact with Naomi in the hallway.
Ate my lunch quietly while reading a cookbook titled "One-Pot Meals for Overpowered Heroines."
Life was back to manageable.
Until I checked my locker after sixth period.
---
The Note
There it was. Tucked inside my shoe cubby. Folded neatly.
My name on the front.
Written in Naomi's round, slightly bubbly handwriting.
I looked around.
She was standing by the window, pretending to be deeply absorbed in a conversation about stationary glue brands. Her eyes flicked toward me. Just once.
I opened the note.
I didn't mean for you to see that yet.
Let's talk.
No lies this time.
—N
I stared at it for a long time.
Because "no lies this time" wasn't the kind of thing Naomi ever said.
Naomi was the type of girl who would swear on a strawberry parfait. Or promise never to tell a secret unless it involved alien snacks.
This?
This felt serious.
---
After School
I found her behind the library, where we used to sneak soda during exam week.
She was sitting on the bench, kicking her legs like a child pretending nothing was complicated.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey," I said back. "So. Hug pillow."
She groaned. "I knew you'd run."
"You printed my face on a beanbag!"
"I know!" she wailed. "It was supposed to be funny. Kind of. Okay, not really. It's complicated."
"Naomi," I said, crossing my arms, "you said 'no lies this time.' What's going on?"
She hesitated.
Then she reached into her bag—and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook.
My heart skipped.
Because it looked almost identical to the one I found at the used bookstore.
She held it out.
"Reika – Vol. 2"
Written on the cover in gold ink.
"I found this a year ago," she said. "Before I even knew what it meant. Before all the weirdness started happening. It told me about you. About things that hadn't happened yet."
My mouth went dry. "You've known…?"
She nodded.
"Not everything. But bits. It's like someone—maybe you, maybe not—wrote it for me. For when things got confusing. And I just… I didn't know how to tell you."
I sank onto the bench beside her.
"Why the pillow?"
She blushed furiously. "One of the pages said to make it. 'For comfort. She'll understand later.' So I… I made it. I didn't mean for you to see it now."
I stared at the sky, which was, as usual lately, cloudy with a chance of existential spirals.
"Well," I muttered, "future-me is really good at making me look insane."
Naomi nudged me. "Still friends?"
I hesitated.
Then sighed. "Only if I can borrow the hug pillow."
She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bench.
---
Later That Night
I opened my own journal.
Still blank after page one.
Still warning me about Chapter 45.
And now… I wasn't sure if Naomi had been pulled into this future-mess by accident…
Or if she'd been part of it all along.
But for now, at least, I wasn't alone.