Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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I swallowed, hesitating slightly before taking the plunge. "So if she doesn't want to hide...what does she want?"
"To rule it all," Bella said, blowing a strand of hair from in front of her eyes. The grimace aligned perfectly with what I felt inside.
I'm sorry. Did I casually wander into an Avengers movie? How could anything in real life ever have the answer of: to rule the world?
"That's ridiculous," I said. I tucked my creeping hand against my chest, trying to ignore the warmth tingling on both sides of my body as I was wrapped in the heated embrace that was Kakashi Hatake. Not one to be outdone, however, Kakashi's free hand grabbed mine, cleanly pulling it back to his thigh.
Then he let go.
And for the first time, like the severe opposite of being dunked in a tub of water, I had the thought: why is he suddenly being way more touchy than he was before?
"I don't see how I factor into all of this," Sam piped up. Her arms crossed over her chest in an angry pout.
Kirishima cleared his throat, the teenage husk of his voice not budging an inch. "What even is this spell? Am I—am I even real?"
All the warmth from cuddling on the couch with Kakashi left me, and I sprang up to the edge of the cushion, watching in growing horror as Kirishima's eyes flicked all around the room, not once alighting on anything for more than the briefest glimpse. He cradled Hable in his hands, the orange kitten letting out the most delicate yawn before nuzzling into his hold.
Horror clogged up my throat as a teenager who had been hiding all of the fear and uncertainty inside of him finally spoke some of the truth tearing at his brain. I couldn't form a single sentence. Never had I questioned whether or not they were real. The moment I'd met Kakashi's smiling-not-smiling eyes on the front step of my apartment, I'd accepted the idea that the fundamental principle of one of my favorite teenage book series was true: all the stories are real.
After reading so many different types of fantasies, from transmigration of people to another world, to overlapping universes existing next to one another, to the breadth and scope of how far this universe expands, I wasn't one to turn away from even the most miraculous possibility. It's just that, before Kakashi, I'd never thought it could be real.
How could I look at Kakashi, a seated furnace beside me, that damn beauty mark on his chin, giving me those heavy-lidded eyes that looked like they should be immortalized in a magazine shoot, and not think he was real? How could I possibly deny it at this point?
But it was my privilege to already exist in this world. It wasn't me whose entire being had been thrown into something I'd never known. Sure, I was affected, but I wasn't the one who'd been displaced. I couldn't believe I'd never considered the possibility that Kakashi and Kirishima would struggle with this strange dichotomy.
