Arzen’s pen hovered over the notebook, the tip almost touching the page, when he noticed Carsel approaching. The classroom bustled around them, but Carsel’s presence was like a sudden spotlight in Arzen’s field of vision.

“Hi.” 

Carsel’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

“Do you know where Raizel is?”

Arzen blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He shifted in his seat, trying to gauge Carsel’s intent.

“Raizel?” 

The word left his lips slowly, almost as if testing it. 

“He changed here, but I don’t know where he went after.”

Carsel’s gaze lingered on Arzen for a moment before he nodded, stepping back. 

“Oh, I see. Thanks.”

Carsel moved away, his steps blending into the flow of the classroom. Arzen’s eyes followed him, an uneasy feeling settling in his chest as he adjusted his position.

‘Thank goodness, he’s just asking about Raizel's whereabouts.’

Arzen exhaled slowly, feeling the tension leave his body. The brief encounter had shaken him.

The bell rang, and students hurried to their seats, the noise settling into the usual classroom buzz. Arzen looked up just as Raizel walked in, followed closely by Carsel, whose stiff shoulders and slower pace were hard to miss. There was a faint redness around Carsel’s eyes, and his usually confident movements seemed restrained, almost robotic. Raizel, however, appeared completely unaware, his attention elsewhere as he moved to his seat.

The final bell of the day rang, and Arzen quickly gathered his things, keeping one eye on Carsel and Raizel as they packed up. He hesitated by his desk, pretending to organize his notes until they left the room.

On the walk back to the dorm, Arzen’s thoughts spiraled. Carsel’s tense posture, Raizel’s indifference—it all played over and over in his mind. 

‘What happen between them?’

When he reached the dorm, the emptiness of the room greeted him. Arzen climbed onto his bunk, staring at the ceiling. 

‘That extra chapter… There was something about that guy who left with Raizel at the airport. But why can’t I remember his name?’

He closed his eyes, trying to push the thought away, but the memory remained elusive, slipping further the more he tried to grasp it.

The door creaked open, and Yuriel walked in, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon light. He noticed Arzen lying on his bunk, looking lost in thought, and couldn’t help but wonder if something was on his mind. Arzen quickly sat up, brushing a hand through his hair—a gesture Yuriel had seen a hundred times, usually when Arzen was trying to pull himself together. Yuriel paused, sensing an odd tension in the room.

"Hey, Zenzen, you’re back early."

Arzen nodded, forcing a smile. 

"Yeah… how was your day?"

Yuriel shrugged casually as he unpacked his books. 

“Not bad. The usual.”

Arzen watched Yuriel unpack his books, feeling a knot of unease in his stomach. He shifted on the bed, his fingers tracing the patterns on the bed sheet.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

Yuriel’s voice broke the silence.

Arzen hesitated, the question pulling him out of his daze. 

“Not really. Thinking of catching up on some writing.”

Yuriel glanced up, a spark of interest in his eyes. 

“You’ll have to let me read some of it. You always let Hanjun read it first.”

Arzen’s response was quick, almost reflexive, the playful tone just what Yuriel had hoped to hear.

“Hey! He kind of forces me into it!”

Yuriel watched closely, assessing Arzen’s demeanor. He seemed more like his old self, not the jittery version from the day before. Whatever had been bothering him seemed to be fading, and that was good enough for Yuriel.

“That’s so Hanjun.” 

Yuriel’s laughter came easily, lightening the atmosphere between them. Arzen smiled, but there was still a shadow of tension in his expression. While Yuriel felt relieved, Arzen’s mind was elsewhere, questioning every interaction.

‘Am I doing this right? Am I acting like this world’s Arzen?’

Yuriel, oblivious to the conflict brewing inside Arzen, shifted the conversation. He’d been meaning to bring it up anyway.

"Oh right, I almost forgot—what do you think about going out this weekend? I need to buy some things for the charity event next month."

"For Marcus Loen’s memorial?"

Arzen asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to pull together the details from the bits of conversation he remembered.

"Yeah, that’s the one."

Yuriel straightened up, watching Arzen closely. He wasn’t sure if Arzen was really interested, but there was no harm in asking.

“Only if you’re free. It’s not a big deal. I can go by myself, but I thought you might have some good ideas on what to buy.”

Arzen hesitated, his fingers tightening on the edge of the bed. The offer felt casual, but the decision weighed heavily. 

"Sure, let’s go."

A slight blush crept up Arzen’s cheeks. He hesitated before asking, his voice lower. 

“Do I need to dress up.. Um… a certain way?”

Yuriel shook his head, smiling. 

"Not really, just wear whatever. Let’s go at 10 AM on Saturday."

“Okay,” 

Arzen nodded, a brief sense of calm washing over him as Yuriel continued sorting his desk. The room settled into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, broken only by the soft rustling of papers. For a moment, everything felt like it was under control.

But the calm was fleeting. A sudden realization jolted Arzen upright, his heart racing.

‘My part-time job!’

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up as he tried to gather his thoughts.

‘How did I forget this?’

This world’s Arzen’s memories were clear: weekends were spent working at a small coffee shop near the school. The pay was modest, just enough to cover basic needs, and every penny was carefully managed. Extras like phones or laptops were out of reach—dreams rather than reality.

This world’s Arzen had learned to manage everything carefully, never indulging in anything unnecessary. He made do with what he had, always prioritizing essentials over desires, living with a frugality that was more necessity than choice.

And then there was Hanjun.

Hanjun, with his generous but often overwhelming gestures, always trying to help in his own way. Many times, he had tried to gift this world’s Arzen things that he had refused. Arzen recalled the memory of Hanjun offering a top-of-the-line phone for a birthday—something this world’s Arzen desperately needed but still turned down, clinging stubbornly to his pride and independence. It wasn’t just about the gift; it was about not wanting to feel indebted.

Arzen thought about it, half-amused, half-exasperated. Even without the real emotions of this world’s Arzen, he could understand why he found Hanjun irritating. They shared similar personalities, and it was easy to guess that this world’s Arzen had seen Hanjun as a mix of annoyance and bewildering kindness. The thought made Arzen sigh deeply, shaking his head. He felt the lingering weight of this world’s Arzen’s pride and the discomfort of accepting help that came with too many strings attached.

‘Well, if it’s from that guy, then I might not accept it either. Who knows what kind of weird app is installed there… But still!’

He climbed down from his bunk bed, feeling the coolness of the floor seep into his feet. Moving to his desk, he pulled out his homework and books, trying to shift his focus. There was no point in getting lost in memories that weren’t really his.

‘Never mind, let’s just study for now. I can go to the coffee shop tomorrow after school.’

The decision felt small, but necessary, another nod to the careful balancing act that defined this world’s Arzen’s routine. There was still so much to adjust to, so many memories to sort through, but for now, focusing on the present was all he could do.

The next day after school, Arzen rode his bike to the coffee shop, L'Écho de Vie. The shop had an old European charm, with intricate woodwork and iron designs that gave it a cozy, welcoming feel. Large windows framed by elegant curtains allowed glimpses of the warm interior, where flower boxes added a touch of color.

Arzen stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee washing over him. The soft lighting and wooden furniture created a comfortable atmosphere, while vintage decor and small plants added a homely touch. The shop was a quiet retreat from the bustling world outside.

Ethan, the shop owner, was behind the counter, his casual yet stylish attire matching his easygoing demeanor. In his late twenties, with short, dark hair and a neat beard, Ethan greeted each customer with a warm smile.

Ethan noticed Arzen approaching and smiled. 

“Hey, Arzen! How’s it going? Here for a coffee?”

Arzen shifted his weight, his gaze drifting around the cozy shop. 

“Well… I’m actually here because I have a request.”

He met Ethan’s eyes, taking a steady breath. 

‘I hope this won’t be too much trouble.’

“I was wondering if I could change my shift for this Saturday. Something came up… and I know it’s sudden…”

Ethan nodded, already reaching for the schedule. 

“Oh! No problem. Let me check.”

Arzen tapped his fingers lightly on the counter as he waited, the smell of coffee and the hum of the espresso machine offering a brief comfort.

After a moment, Ethan looked up with a smile. 

“Alright, I can move things around. You’re good for Saturday.”

Arzen blinked, surprised by how easily it was resolved. 

“Really? Thanks, Ethan. Sorry for the late notice.”

“It’s fine. I should at least do this for my number one employee, right?”

A small, almost hesitant smile appeared on Arzen’s face. 

“Uh… Thanks again.”

“Take care, Arzen. See you on Sunday!”

Ethan’s smile remained warm as Arzen nodded and headed for the door. 

As Arzen rode back to the dorm, his mind churned with thoughts of the day ahead. 

‘I need to learn more about this world—to see how much it mirrors my own and what’s different.’

Later, Arzen found himself at the library, surrounded by books. The dim, warm lights cast long shadows across the pages as he read, trying to absorb as much information as possible. 

‘This world is different, but not by much. The power structures, the families... they’re unfamiliar but similar in some ways.’

As Arzen turned a corner, his grip on the books tightened when he spotted someone familiar.

‘Again?! Why do I keep running into him?!’

Arzen’s steps faltered, and he quickly ducked behind a shelf, not wanting to draw attention.

Arzen didn’t want to stay, but the books he’d been reading were still on the desk. Carsel and a group of older students blocked the way to where he sat, their tense conversation drawing attention.

Carsel stood near the desk, holding his bag tightly, while a tall boy leaned in close, his expression hard. 

“Stop spreading rumors about Mila.” 

The boy demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Carsel shook his head, his grip on the bag tightening. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy took another step closer, his gaze cold. 

“I can make your life miserable, Carsel. Don’t test me.”

Carsel’s voice was barely a whisper as he met the boy’s gaze. 

“Mila wants to be close to Raizel. He’s well-regarded, so…” 

The boy’s jaw tightened, cutting him off.

“Keep Raizel out of this. Just stop talking about Mila.”

Carsel looked down, his hand twisting the strap of his bag as the boy’s words hung in the air.

“I’ve never meant any harm. Is it my fault that Raizel doesn’t like her? I have no reason to keep her away from him. He’s… he’s special to me. And if he likes Mila, I’d support them.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and dangerous. 

“You better be careful, Carsel. If I hear one more word from you about Mila, there will be consequences.”

Carsel nodded, his face pale as the boy turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone by the desk.

Carsel’s shoulders tensed, his voice barely audible to anyone, including Arzen. 

“I just want a happy ending for everyone.”

The onlookers who had gathered around the commotion began whispering among themselves. The tension in the air was palpable, and the students exchanged glances filled with curiosity and concern.

"Did you see that? Mila’s cousin was really laying into Carsel." 

One student murmured to a friend.

"I heard it’s because Carsel’s been spreading rumors about Mila." 

Another replied, shaking their head.

"Really?? But still it’s not right to bully him like that."

"Mila’s really crossed a line this time, getting her cousin to threaten Carsel." 

"I know right." 

Another student whispered.

As the whispers died down, the crowds left one by one, and Carsel sat alone, his head in his arms. The library's tall shelves cast long shadows, and the soft rustling of pages and hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet space.

Arzen moved through the library, keeping to himself and avoiding any attention. He finished tidying up his desk, stacking the books neatly before heading out without a word. He didn’t want any drama; he just wanted to get through the day.

Back in the dorm, the usual mix of detergent and textbooks filled the air. Elden was on his bed, sprawled out comfortably. As soon as Arzen walked in, Elden looked up, grinning like he’d been waiting for this.

“Zenzen! Heard you’re going out with Yuriel on Saturday. Trying to ditch your best friend, huh?”

Arzen leaned against the doorframe, feeling the weight of everything that had happened today. This world didn’t seem to give him a break. First Carsel, now Elden. It was like there was always something.

“Why don’t you just ask Yuriel if you want to come too?”

Elden clutched his chest in an exaggerated display of hurt, clearly playing it up.

“Oh, the betrayal! Not inviting your best friend?”

Arzen rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop a laugh. Elden’s over-the-top reactions were just part of the daily routine. Somehow, they were starting to feel familiar, even though he still felt like an outsider.

“Fine, Elden. You’re invited. I’m sure Yuriel won’t mind.”

Elden’s grin grew wider, the mock offense disappearing.

“Great! I knew you couldn’t resist. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you two.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Arzen sat down on his bed, the springs creaking a little under his weight. The banter felt unnerving and off—like a script he was still learning. 

Later, after washing up, Arzen pulled out his books and started on his homework. Studying gave him something to focus on, something that felt normal. As night fell, he turned off the desk lamp, climbed into bed, and tried to quiet his mind, though the day’s events played on repeat until exhaustion finally won.