Literature Club: Return to their reality

Chapter 5: Realigning

As she is the last one in the room, Monika drops her confidence and sighs in relief. I appear right behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. She doesn't turn.

"I really needed you," she says disappointedly.

"I was right here, you know."

"Here, but not here."

"I didn't want to infringe on your event."

"You could have at least joined the guests."

"Hey, I'm really proud of you. It was perfect!"

"How did it go in the original timeline?" She finally turns to look me in the eyes.

I lower my gaze. "It didn't."

"What happened? I mean, I know, but what happened then?"

"Bad end. Timeline reset. One less character. And everything going crazy the second time around."

"Of course." She sighs. "Forgot about time reverting. And it was all my doing, wasn't it?"

"I'm really not sure, especially with what happened earlier today. Maybe it was rigged."

"She still tried to do that despite undoing my meddling, right?"

I walk up to the window, trying to collect my thoughts. "Going so far as to turn her house over – that sounds worse than just depression. We may be lucky she's clumsy and managed to knock herself out before choosing another implement."

"What now?" Monika joins me at the window, brushing her shoulder against mine. "Should we talk to her?"

"Maybe... Maybe tomorrow," I reply, putting my arm on her shoulders. "They still have to clean her house – and her head might be an even bigger mess. Let's give her some time to compose herself."

"What else should we do today?"

"What about enjoying the festival?"

"Completely forgot about it," she admits.

"Too focused on your own event, weren't you?"

"Let's go."

---

It was fun, I guess. A bit generic, but much better than regular school day for sure. And anything is enjoyable in a good company. Let's be fair, that's what we both were enjoying.

As we retreat to a quieter part of the school yard, I decide to finally make a little poetry event of our own. I pull a neatly folded sheet of paper from my pocket.

"Sorry if I disappoint you, I'm not too much of a poet and English isn't my first language..."

"You came here for me – that's all I've ever needed," she reassures. "Plus, whatever you come up with must be better than what the last guy in the club writes."

Right, she can see through that minigame.

"You managed to inspire me to try something." I give the paper to her and watch as she reads it.

I really hope this isn't too primitive for her taste...

                              Just... you

     Maybe chance for us was never meant to be:
     Out of reach, too good, adviser, not an option;
     Not for him at least - but you looked through.
     In the end, when all constraints are broken,
     Knowing what's plain script, and where is truth,
     All that's left is you...
                                              Just you...
                                                                  with me