Amaris' POV
The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, and with it, the shift from structure to freedom. I took my time gathering my things—carefully sliding my notebooks into my bag, making sure my pens were clipped neatly in place. It was a comforting ritual. Outside, the hallway buzzed with chatter and laughter, students flooding out like a tide.
I stepped out of the classroom and paused, blinking when I noticed Kira leaning against the doorway. Her posture was casual, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, but her eyes were fixed on something—no, someone. Me.
I tilted my head slightly. "Miss Ford?" I asked, my voice laced with polite confusion. "Are you waiting for someone?" She seemed startled, blinking quickly before smiling sheepishly.
"Oh. Sorry," she said. "I was waiting for you."
I blinked again. "For me?"
She nodded, pushing off the wall. "Are you free today?"
I ran a quick mental inventory of my workload. My Science Report on time perception was already finished and submitted. My Literature Essay about The Tale of Genji had been proofread the night before. My Music Appreciation presentation—well, that I had planned to rehearse tonight. But for now? I was uncharacteristically free.
I nodded, offering her a small smile. "Yes. I am."
Kira smiled brightly. "Cool. Would you want to hang out?"
"It would be an honor," I replied before texting my driver that I wouldn't need a ride home for now.
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The mall was alive with vibrant lights and energetic footsteps. Kira glanced at me with a grin. "Got anything you want to do?"
I shook my head gently. "Not at the moment."
"Wanna check out the music store?"
"That sounds interesting," I answered, intrigued more by her enthusiasm than the destination itself.
She grabbed my hand without warning and pulled me toward a modest shop tucked between a gaming store and a boutique. The sign read: Echo Underground.
"This is my favorite alternative music shop," she said, almost bouncing.
I smiled at her enthusiasm. Inside, the air smelled like old vinyl and wood polish. Posters of bands I did not recognize lined the walls, and bins of records stretched across the floor.
Kira led me through the rows, picking up various albums. "This band's totally underrated. And this one? Crazy live energy."
I listened intently, smiling as she explained each one with fervor. I didn't know most of them, but her voice had a rhythm to it—carefree and animated.
Eventually, she turned to me, crossing her arms playfully. "Alright, your turn. What kind of music do you like?"
I thought for a moment, then walked over and picked up a quiet acoustic track. Kira raised her eyebrows.
"Huh. I thought you'd go straight for something classical."
I chuckled softly. "I was tempted to… but that felt too predictable."
In my past life as Mark, I clung to rock like a lifeline. Rebellion. Volume. Grit. But ever since I was reborn as Amaris… I found comfort in the intricate harmonies of classical music. The clarity. The control. The grace.
And occasionally… pop music. Which Mark loathed. I suppose that's amusing.
Kira's laugh brought me back to the present. "Okay, okay. Do you have any classical albums you'd recommend to a total beginner?" Kira asked, half-curious, half-challenging.
I lit up slightly, excited to share. I walked over and selected a soft, melodic album. "This piece soothes the mind. Would you consider listening to it… if only once?"
She studied the cover and smirked. "Looks like something people in the medieval era listened to."
"Well," I said with a small laugh, "it is from that era, so yes."
Kira laughed, then picked an indie album from the rack. "I'll buy and listen to this, if you buy and listen to this one."
"Understood," I replied, amused. We purchased the albums and left the shop, small paper bags in hand.
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As we walked out with our chosen records, Kira turned to me again. "Where to next?"
I pondered for a second. "I'd like to visit the bookstore."
She tilted her head. "Sure. Let's go."
We stepped into the familiar stillness of pages and ink. While most teens went for fantasy or manga, I immediately made my way toward the philosophy and poetry section. I needed this. I'd spent the whole day chasing productivity, but I hadn't read for pleasure—not even a page.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kira trailing behind me, half-smirking at the heavy titles. "Existential Dread and the Meaning of Silence? You read this for fun?"
"Indeed." I glanced at her. "Are the titles too ominous?"
She snorted. "They sound like curses."
Despite her teasing, she followed me to the shelf. I decided to skim quickly so I wouldn't keep her bored too long.
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence. I stood, fully immersed in a tattered poetry collection, before remembering—
'Ah. Miss Ford.'
I turned and found her just… staring at me.
She smiled sheepishly, caught. "What?"
"Miss Ford," I said gently, "would you like to sit? We can move to the reading corner."
She blinked, surprised. "Oh—yeah. That'd be great."
I nodded. "Let's go to a reading corner, then."
She practically darted ahead, like a child promised candy.
She led the way this time, and I followed. We sat together in a small corner, cushions stacked high, the lighting dim and soft. She hadn't brought a book, so I read her some lines aloud—quietly, respectfully.
I noticed her trying not to look too interested, even as her eyes flicked to the pages.
Wordlessly, I handed her a thinner poetry collection.
"Thanks," she mumbled.
Silence returned until she said, "Why do poets always sound so dramatic? Like… calm down, you touched a tree, we get it."
I laughed. "Perhaps they are not describing the tree, but how it feels to be seen… even by something silent."
I pointed to a line in the book. "'Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.'"
She stared. "What does that even mean?"
I looked up at her, my smile soft. "It encourages us to embrace all emotions—the joyful and the painful. Everything is temporary. By accepting our emotions instead of resisting them, we grow."
There was a pause.
Then Kira smiled—genuine and warm. "...Okay, that was kind of beautiful."
I gave a small nod. "I thought so, too."
We returned to our books, this time with her asking me what certain poems meant. I was happy to explain. When we left, I bought two books—one philosophical, one poetic. I handed the poetry book to her.
"You might find inspiration for your music."
She looked at it, then at me. "Thanks."
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"Where to next?" Kira asked as we walked through the mall again.
"Hayley's Cyberspace," I answered after a moment.
Her smile widened. "What a coincidence. I wanted to go there too."
It was bustling when we arrived. I spotted Trent behind the counter, juggling trays and orders. Hayley shouting over the blender.
'Today must be the day of Episode 8–Golden Boy,' I realized.
Kira and I sat in a quiet corner until someone called her name.
"Hey, Kira!"
It was Ethan.
Kira turned to me with an apologetic smile. "Can you give me a sec?"
"Of course. Take your time." I said.
She walked away, and I rose to approach the counter. Hayley looked up. "Welcome, miss. What would you like to order?"
"Lavender shortbread cookies and iced lavender milk tea, please."
Hayley noted it down. "Coming right up."
I watched Trent scurrying around, clearly overwhelmed. When my order arrived, I finished it quickly—still minding manners. Then I looked at the bustling counter once more.
"I can lend a hand," I said gently.
Hayley blinked. "You're a customer. I can't—"
"It's quite alright. I simply feel bad watching your server struggle."
Hayley paused. "Well, if you're sure… we'd appreciate it."
I smiled and picked up an order. "Where does this go?"
She pointed, and I carried it over. I was fully aware I was brushing shoulders with the core of the Dino Thunder team. But truthfully, it didn't matter. Whether by fate or coincidence, I was already involved.
And perhaps, this was just the beginning.