After my appointment with Ms. Kawabuchi, I returned to class with a deep sense of dread welling in my chest.
Because...
What I'd found inside that box was—
"Ichihara-san," a girl said, approaching my desk with her friend. "What's the matter? Normally you seem all cool and collected, but right now you look troubled."
"I'm fine," I snap back—lying through my teeth—as I'm anxiously hunched over my desk with my fingers clawing at the smooth corners, an angry look and sweat pouring down the sides of my face. No doubt, looking like a total mess.
But how could I not react so extremely?
There's lines of data scrolling across my vision, as if my body is running a backdoor computer code; compromised,by a hacker, who is now slowly taking control of all my senses.
What happens if something goes wrong?
Indeed, what happens to a machine if there's a fatal glitch in its code?
I shouldn't have gone through with this…
