When Alya opened her eyes, she looked at a clear blue sky while sitting under a cherry blossom tree.
"The fuck is this?" (Alya)
Her voice sounded wrong; she sounded younger. That thought made her instantly sit up fully and look at her hands. Her hands, where veins were starting to show, making her age more apparent, were now smooth like when she was younger. Groping around herself, she looked down and nearly screamed in panic. She was wearing a prep school uniform, making her flustered. How idiotic does she look to be almost thirty and wearing a uniform that would only be reserved as a kink for her age. A pocket in the side of the skirt, she pulled out her phone and saw the date, making her stop in her movements.
[April 8th 2017]
"What?" (Alya)
When she had last looked at the date, it was June 23rd, 2028. Sixteen, she is Sixteen? What in the world happened? At that thought, a skull-crushing pain overwhelmed her senses, making her nearly fall back to lying down on the ground. She has School, and snuck out of class just before lunch. Whoever she is, it wasn't like her to skip class. She wasn't ready to return to School and decided to take time to learn who she is, or whatever information she has on herself that was shoved into her head. Getting up, she typed in the address that, from her memories, was where she lived. The maps lead her through the streets, making her aware that this world is familiar. Looking at her uniform once more, she looked at it more closely. At the same time, she was trying to remember the name of her School, Nagoya High. Nagoya... Nagoya... She spent most of her walk in a spaced-out daze before the familiarity finally struck and all the pieces slipped together.
Moonstruck Magic. The game she was playing always introduced the high School and showed a signboard, although not in English, saying the School's name, Nagoya. Knowing that the only reason she learned Japanese was because she wanted to read manga and listen to the Japanese words of her favorite characters, while knowing what they were saying embarrassed her to no end. Now that she looked more closely, signs that read in Japanese surrounded her, but unlike before when she learned the language, she could read every word perfectly. Making her do a double-take on her phone itself. She hadn't realized it, but the words on her screen weren't English either.
Her brain automatically translated everything so naturally that she didn't notice. That thought creeped her out. How could something so invasive make her unable to realize she was reading a different language? This stressed her out, so she got on her phone looking at the contacts.
[Mom]
[Dad]
[Grandma]
[Grandpa]
[School]
No friends, just family and School. Looking through everything now, Alya was sure this version of herself had no friends. No memory of hanging out with others, just skipping classes and spending time going to the hospital. The hospital? Alya stopped walking as she dug through more of the memories in the hospital, making her aware that she also had the number memorized, but why? Thats when memories of her Grandfather being in the hospital, being treated for cancer, come to mind. Why wasn't she at the hospital then? She shouldn't have asked that. Grief, loss, and more memories slammed into her. Her Grandfather didn't survive the treatment as his health deteriorated, and he passed away. Alya, this Alya wouldn't be blamed for skipping School because he passed away. So her skipping School entirely won't be questioned too much. She shouldn't help but sigh this time, walking to the front porch—no cars in the parkway of the house.
Searching through her memories, she knew she would be alone in the house. The home was a classical concrete house commonly seen in Japan for people who lived in a house instead of an apartment building. Remembering where the spare key was was simple enough, as was the pin to unlock the gate, as it clicked and beeped when it shut closed. Not knowing what to do, Alya scrolled through previous messages between her other self and her mom.
03/23/2017 11:45 a.m.
[Sweetie, you need to come home. We don't care that you were supposed to be at School; we have grave news.]
03/25/2017 5:00 p.m.
[Sweetie, I love you, please call me.]
03/30/2017 12:45 p.m.
[Sweetie, I don't expect you to go to school today, just let me know if you aren't coming home again.]
04/01/2017 10:00 a.m.
[Sweetie, are you okay? We got a call from the school, please call me.]
04/02/2017 8:00 a.m.
[Sweetie, you want to skip school today, but we need you to attend all your classes.]
04/02/2017 10:14 p.m.
[Sweetie, we love you, give us a call.]
Alya entered what looked like a sitting room and looked at the phone and some call logs. She took a deep breath. She seemed to be ignoring her mother's messages, only calling when told to.
[Hey...<--]
[Mom...<--]
[Hello...<--]
Typing and deleting the messages, Alya dragged her nails through the frizz of her hair. She hated this, yes, she has memories of this woman who is supposed to be this body's mom, but this isn't her real mom, making it harder to type the message.
[Mom, I couldn't bring myself to stay at school, so I'm home safe.]
She nearly stopped sending the message, but when three dots appeared and disappeared from her side, Alya almost threw her phone. She spent too long trying to type a message, and her mom noticed her trying to send a message on her side. Panicked, she pressed send as the message appeared and was instantly marked as read. It only took a few seconds to see a message pop up from her. Alya still felt the urge to throw her phone.
[Thank you for letting me know I'm glad you will be safe. Love you, let us know if you want or need anything before we get home.]
Alya felt wrong about responding to what she was supposed to send. For herself, she would send an I love you, too to her real mom, but this wasn't her mom; these aren't her memories. Hello, this is the body of someone with her name and birthday, although she is only 16. Feeling wrong in her own body, she started pinching areas of herself and looked at her legs, arms, and hair.
"I need to look in the mirror." (Alya)