It was hard at first, every encounter with him a reminder of the confusion and hurt that still burned inside her. She would avoid looking him in the eye, make herself busy with anything she could find just to keep her mind from wandering back to that night.
In class, she sat far from him. When they crossed paths in the hallways, she kept her head down, her footsteps quick and determined. She wouldn't let herself get lost in his gaze again.
But Max was persistent. Sometimes, just out of the corner of her eye, she would catch him watching her—his expression unreadable, his dark eyes studying her every movement. She could feel the weight of his gaze even from across the room, like a presence that never fully left her.
Nana would ignore him, pretending not to notice. She refused to let him get close again, not after what had happened. But deep inside, she knew she was lying to herself. The truth was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't completely shut him out. There was something about Max—something she couldn't quite place. Something that drew her in, no matter how much she wanted to pull away.
One day, she was walking through the hall, arms crossed tightly over her chest, lost in her thoughts. She was so focused on avoiding Max, she didn't notice the group of students that had gathered in front of her until it was too late.
"Watch out, robot girl!" one of them sneered, shoving her aside.
Nana stumbled, the sharp push causing her to lose her balance. She crashed into the wall, her robotic leg scraping against the cold surface. Pain shot through her, but it wasn't the physical pain that bothered her—it was the feeling of being humiliated all over again.
"Hey, look at that. The freak can't even walk right," another student laughed.
Nana's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to regain her footing. She felt the familiar sting of insecurity rising up, her face burning with shame. She wanted to disappear, to hide away somewhere safe where she wouldn't have to face this—where she wouldn't have to feel like a freak, a machine, something less than human.
But before she could gather her thoughts or try to escape, she heard a familiar voice.
"Hey, cut it out!" Max's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. He stepped forward, his body language tense with anger as he faced the students who had just bullied Nana. "What's your problem?"
The students laughed, dismissing him like he was just another nuisance. "You defending the robot?" one of them jeered.
Max's gaze hardened, his posture stiffening. "I said, cut it out." His voice was lower this time, more dangerous, and the students faltered for a second. They looked at each other, uncertainty flashing in their eyes. After a moment, they backed off, muttering under their breath as they walked away.
Nana stood there, frozen. She didn't know whether she should feel relieved or something else. Max had defended her, yes—but that didn't change the way things had been between them. The words from that night still echoed in her mind.
Max turned to her, his face unreadable. "You okay?"
Nana didn't answer right away. She couldn't bring herself to say anything, to let him in again. Instead, she nodded stiffly and turned, walking quickly away from him, her heart racing in a way she didn't understand.
She had made the decision to keep her distance from Max. She had to. It was safer this way.
But deep down, she couldn't help but feel that Max was still a part of her life—whether she liked it or not. And somehow, that made her feel even more conflicted.
As she walked down the hall, her mind buzzed with confusion and emotions she couldn't shake off. No matter how hard she tried to stay away from Max, something kept pulling her back.
And she hated herself for it.
A few days later, they found themselves in the same corridor after class. Nana was walking briskly, her gaze firmly focused ahead, determined to get to the library and bury herself in her studies, when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. Before she could react, a voice called out, "Hey, Nana!"
She stiffened at the sound of his name on his lips. Max was catching up to her, his footsteps rapid. He was in front of her in an instant, looking unusually calm.
"Max," Nana said, her tone flat, almost colder than she intended. She quickly tried to walk around him, but he moved to block her path.
"I've been meaning to talk to you," Max said, his expression almost apologetic. But there was something about him that didn't match his words. Something was off.
Nana paused, her heart racing in her chest. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.
"Are you sick?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual, though the question was sharp. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. His usual confidence seemed absent, replaced by something more uncertain. The change was stark, and it unsettled her.
Max blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. His lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He cleared his throat, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to her. "I'm not sick. Why would you think that?"
Nana tilted her head, her confusion deepening. "You're acting… different." Her brow furrowed, her mind racing. "How can a person shift their behavior so easily?" She wasn't sure if she was just imagining things, or if there was something deeper going on with him.
Max's expression shifted again, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't read. For a moment, he seemed almost distant, like he wasn't entirely present. Then, he shook his head slightly, almost like he was trying to clear his thoughts.
"I'm just trying to make things right," he said, his voice lower now, a hint of sincerity slipping through. But Nana could feel something else beneath his words. A guardedness. A subtle tension in the way he stood.
Nana studied him carefully, her hand gripping the strap of her bag tightly. Her thoughts were clouded with the confusing puzzle of Max's behavior. Was this the real Max? Or was there something he wasn't telling her?
"I don't know what's going on with you, Max," she said finally, her voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. "But I can't keep trying to figure you out. I've got enough on my plate already."
Max opened his mouth to say something, but Nana stepped around him, not giving him a chance to respond. Her emotions were too tangled, too overwhelming. She couldn't stay here, caught in whatever game Max seemed to be playing. Not anymore.
She walked away quickly, her mind whirling. What's happening to him? She had so many questions, but every time she got close to understanding, he seemed to slip further away
when she arrived at school, things felt… different.
She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was a palpable shift in the air. The students were whispering more than usual, casting furtive glances in her direction. It was as if they all knew something she didn't, and it made her uneasy. But as she walked into the school courtyard, she caught a glimpse of something—someone—that made her blood run cold.
Claire.
She was standing in the center of a small group of students, talking animatedly. But it wasn't her usual demeanor. No, there was something… off about her. The way she looked at Nana, her smile too sharp, too knowing. The way the others watched her, almost reverently, as if they were waiting for her to speak.
Nana's pulse quickened. She couldn't help but notice how Claire's fingers twitched, as if she was controlling something—or someone—else. The students around her seemed to hang on her every word.
Claire turned and caught Nana's gaze. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Nana's stomach churned. Claire's expression softened, but there was something in her eyes—something far too calculated.
Nana wasn't sure if she could trust anyone anymore. Not Max, not Claire. There were too many questions, too many strange things happening around her, and the deeper she looked, the more she realized she wasn't the only one hiding secrets.
The bell rang sharply through the hallways, signaling the start of another day at the school. Teacher Amanda stood at the front of the classroom, a calm but authoritative presence. Today, she had something special in mind—a tour of the school's more unique facilities. She had warned the students earlier, her tone almost too cheerful as she described what lay ahead.
"The school is more than just a place to learn your subjects," she said, her voice carrying an air of mystery. "It's also a place for discovery and… well, let's just say that you'll see things you wouldn't expect. Please stay close, and do follow me."
The students, intrigued and a little anxious, began to follow as she led them out of the classroom. Nana trailed behind, not really paying attention to the murmurs of curiosity around her. Her mind was still clouded by the events of the past few days—the strange feeling around Max, the tension in the air, and the unsettling reality that she didn't fully understand what was happening to her, or why she had ended up here in the first place.
The tour began innocuously enough. Teacher Amanda pointed out various parts of the school—the advanced science labs, the student dorms, the athletic complex—but Nana's unease grew the further they walked. There was something about the way the students whispered and looked at her. They made her feel like an outsider, an anomaly.
She could feel their eyes on her, and the weight of it only grew heavier. The voices grew louder in her mind, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her.
"I need to use the restroom," Nana muttered to herself, excusing herself from the group as she turned down a corridor. She quickly made her way to the nearest bathroom, hoping for a moment to herself.
But as she stepped inside, she paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The cold, robotic parts of her body—parts she could never fully accept—stared back at her. Her right arm, the robotic joints of her lower body, and the device embedded in her head were a constant reminder of the strange, fragmented existence she now had.
She couldn't stay here. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. She turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom, only to stop in her tracks as the hallway stretched out before her, empty and quiet.
Nana didn't know why, but something pulled her in a direction she hadn't noticed before. Her feet carried her down the hall, turning left at an unfamiliar intersection, her heart pounding. The air seemed different here—darker, colder. She wasn't supposed to be here, she knew that, but her instincts drove her forward. She had to see.
She came across a large, reinforced glass door labeled "Uquarium." She couldn't understand the name at first, but when she peered through the glass, her stomach dropped.
Inside, the room was filled with young children—too many for comfort. They were sitting in rows, their eyes vacant, emotionless. Doctors in lab coats walked between them, calmly injecting them with something. As the needles entered their skin, the children's faces barely shifted. They remained still, almost eerily calm, as if whatever was being injected into them had drained the life from their emotions.
Nana's breath caught in her throat. This wasn't just a science project. This was something much darker.
Her hands gripped the edge of the glass as her eyes moved over the children, each one a mirror of the next—blank faces, lifeless eyes. The air in the room felt thick with an unsettling calm. It was as if this was a place for controlling and containing emotions, not for nurturing them.
"What is this?" Nana whispered to herself, her mind racing.
Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. She turned to see a figure leaning against the doorway, his face familiar.
"James Arthur," she muttered, recognizing the smirk on his face.
He had been watching her from a distance for days now, always lingering around in the background. He had made it clear that he wanted her attention—wanted her to notice him.
"You're not supposed to be here," Nana said, her voice cold.
James shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes scanning the room before he locked eyes with her again. "Neither are you," he said, grinning. "But curiosity does tend to lead us to the most interesting places, doesn't it?"
Nana took a step back, instinctively putting more space between them. There was something unsettling about James, something that didn't sit right with her.
"Why are you here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
James seemed unphased by her wariness, taking a slow step toward her. "I was wondering the same thing about you," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with charm. "But maybe it's fate, huh? You and I both wandering into places where we're not supposed to be."
Nana shook her head. "I don't want anything to do with you."
He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I didn't think you'd say yes right away," he said, clearly amused. "But I think you'll change your mind eventually. You see, I run an… organization." He paused, watching her closely, as if waiting for her reaction.
Nana looked at him skeptically. "An organization?"
James' eyes gleamed with something dark, something she couldn't quite place. "Yes, an association. One that could be very… beneficial to you." He took another step closer. "I could offer you something more than just this place. More than just the people here."
Nana recoiled slightly, unsure if she should be more wary or angry. She didn't trust him, not one bit. "I'm not interested in your organization," she said firmly.
He chuckled softly, unfazed by her rejection. "I thought you might say that," he replied. "But I'll leave the door open. Let me know if you change your mind, Nana. I'm always around."
With that, James turned and walked away, leaving Nana standing in the cold silence of the hallway, her mind reeling.
What had she just witnessed? And what did James want with her? There was no way she was going to join his organization. But there was something unnerving about the way he had spoken, like he knew something she didn't.
As she turned away, she couldn't shake the feeling that her presence here—this school, these people—was all part of something bigger. Something dangerous.
The hum of the computer lab filled the air as Nana sat in front of a sleek terminal, staring at the screen in front of her. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard, the questions for the exam flashing in front of her. They seemed simple enough, but something in her mind kept pulling her away, distracting her.
Her right eye twitched slightly—another reminder of her device, the one implanted to help her process language and communicate. She had no control over it, no understanding of its true purpose. But for now, it helped her focus, helped her survive in this strange world. It was the least of her worries.
She breathed in slowly, trying to clear her mind of the distractions. But the image of the Uquarium, the emotionless children, and James Arthur's cryptic words kept creeping in. His "organization." The cold, manipulative gleam in his eyes. What kind of place was he running? And why had he been so insistent on her joining?
Nana shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. Focus on the exam. Focus on something normal.
She quickly finished the test, typing out the answers with a speed that felt mechanical. It was like second nature to her now, and for a brief moment, she almost felt like the robot she had become, her mind working faster than her emotions could follow.
She clicked "submit," and without another glance at the screen, Nana stood up and walked toward the door. The lab felt suffocating now, the sterile atmosphere pressing down on her, making it impossible to think clearly. She needed air. She needed to move.
The halls were quieter than usual, the sound of students chattering from nearby classrooms fading into the distance. Nana didn't stop walking. She needed something, anything to distract her, so her thoughts wouldn't spiral back to James or the strange association he had mentioned.
She entered the school cooperative, a small store filled with school supplies, stationary, and textbooks. It was a quiet place, with soft fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Nana made her way to the back of the store, picking up some pens, notebooks, and erasers—anything to keep her hands busy.
But as she turned around, ready to head to the counter, she froze.
James Arthur was standing by the door, his arms casually folded across his chest, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Nana felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing. Not him again, she thought. What does he want now?
James smirked, his lips curling in a way that made Nana's stomach twist. "Small world, isn't it?" he said, his voice smooth, like a predator toying with its prey. "You can't seem to get away from me."
Nana swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "I wasn't trying to," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and despite her efforts to remain calm, there was something about James that set her nerves on edge.
"Of course," James replied, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I'm not stalking you, if that's what you're thinking. But I do tend to find interesting people in the most unexpected places."
Nana frowned, instinctively taking a step back. "What do you want from me?"
James' smirk widened, and he took a step toward her. His presence was overwhelming, and Nana couldn't help but feel cornered. "You know, you're not as unnoticeable as you think. You've got something… unique about you. Something that I think could be very valuable to my association."
Nana's heart skipped again, and the words he had spoken earlier echoed in her mind. "I told you, I'm not interested in your organization," she said firmly, refusing to let his words rattle her.
James raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You're not ready to see the bigger picture yet," he said, his voice low and almost coaxing. "But one day, you'll realize what I'm offering. People like you… people with potential… don't belong here. Not with the others. You belong somewhere else. You could be something much more."
Nana's frustration flared. Who does he think he is? She wasn't some tool for his plans, and she wasn't going to be dragged into whatever game he was playing.
"I told you already," she said through gritted teeth. "Leave me alone."
For a moment, James didn't say anything. He just studied her, a mixture of amusement and something darker in his eyes. Then, as if he was done with the conversation, he turned and walked toward the door, throwing a final comment over his shoulder.
"We'll see. I'll be waiting when you're ready."
The door swung shut behind him, leaving Nana standing in the cooperative, her heart still pounding in her chest.
She could still feel his words lingering in the air, heavy and unsettling. People like you… people with potential…
Nana shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. She had no intention of letting James pull her into whatever scheme he was trying to set up. But the more she thought about it, the more the question gnawed at her: What was he offering? And why did it feel like there was something important she was missing?
With a sigh, Nana grabbed the last of the supplies she needed and headed toward the counter
Nana stepped out of the school cooperative, a small bag of stationeries clutched in her hand. Her processors buzzed faintly as she tried to shake off the lingering unease from earlier. She adjusted her footing, focusing on steadying her balance.
Just as she turned the corner, she collided with someone.
"Whoa! Watch it," Claire's sharp voice cut through the air as she stumbled back, catching herself on the wall.
Nana's head tilted as she steadied herself. Her display screen flickered slightly, showing a brief "Sorry."
Claire dusted herself off and shot Nana a sideways glance. "What are you doing here, all alone?" she asked, her tone laced with something Nana couldn't quite place—was it curiosity, or suspicion?
Nana remained silent, but her gaze lingered on Claire's wrist, where a sleek band of metal gleamed faintly. The same device she had seen her use to cheat in the computer lab. It caught the faint glimmer of the overhead lights, almost too perfect, too advanced.
Claire followed her gaze and smirked. "Oh, this?" she said, raising her wrist. "It's just a gadget. You're not the only one around here with tech, you know."
The words felt like a taunt. Nana's processors flagged the statement, her unease growing.
Claire leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "You don't have to play the mysterious loner forever, you know. If you ever need someone to show you the ropes, I'm around. Who knows, maybe we're more alike than you think."
With that, Claire straightened up, gave a curt nod, and walked away, her steps deliberate and confident.
As Nana stood lost in thought, gripping the edges of the article on her phone, a voice suddenly cut through her spiral of worry.
Nana snapped out of her thoughts and turned to see a boy standing a few steps away. He looked about her age, with messy dark hair and a curious expression.
"I'm Ethan," he said casually, hands stuffed into his pockets. "What do you think about this school so far?"
Nana's display blinked as she carefully typed her words for Ethan to read.
"Actually, I saw many students here wearing robots—hands, legs, eyes—which means not everyone here is very human. But why are they looking at me so weird?"
Ethan's fork froze mid-air. He glanced around nervously before leaning closer to Nana. "You noticed that, huh?" he whispered.
Nana tilted her head slightly, her display flickering in confirmation.
Ethan sighed, . "You're not wrong. A lot of us have… enhancements. It's part of why this school is so exclusive. They say it's for people who need a second chance—people who've been through accidents, injuries, or, you know, worse."
"Then why do they treat me differently?" her screen asked, her frustration evident in the way it flickered rapidly.
Ethan hesitated, adjusting his glasses nervously. "Well, um… because you're not like the rest of us. Most of us got our enhancements after living a normal life, you know? But you…" He paused, struggling to find the right words. "You're… advanced. Like, way beyond what anyone here has ever seen. They're not used to it."
Nana's display went dark for a moment, her thoughts racing. "I don't even understand what I am," she finally typed.
Ethan gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel worse. I just… I think people are curious about you. Maybe even a little jealous."
Before Nana could respond, a group of students entered the cafeteria, their metallic limbs glinting under the fluorescent lights. One of them glanced at Nana and whispered something to their friends, who chuckled quietly.
Nana stiffened. Ethan noticed and clenched his jaw. "Ignore them," he said firmly. "They're just idiots who don't understand. You don't owe anyone an explanation."
Nana nodded slightly, but her gaze remained fixed on her tray. She couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider, even among others who were supposed to be like her.
"Hey," Ethan said softly. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you're pretty cool. You're… different, yeah, but not in a bad way."
Her display flickered: "Thanks."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. As the cafeteria emptied, Nana stood up slowly, her thoughts still swirling. She couldn't ignore the way those students had looked at her—or the uneasy feeling that she didn't belong here.
Ethan gathered his things and gave her an encouraging smile. "See you in class?"
She nodded, her display flashing a quick: "See you."
Just as Nana watched Ethan disappear into the crowd, a familiar voice startled her from behind.
"You shouldn't be talking to strangers."
Nana spun around to see Max standing there, arms crossed, his sharp eyes locked on her. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, blending in and emerging like a shadow.
"Max?" she muttered, surprised.
Max's eyes darkened as he took a step closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over her. "What?" Nana's voice was calm but laced with defiance.
Max let out a dry laugh, one that lacked any humor. "I don't think it's actually bothering you that much," she added with a small chuckle, her tone deliberately light, almost mocking.
His expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "You think this is funny?"
Nana tilted her head, her screen lighting up briefly before displaying: "Shouldn't it be? You've made it clear you don't care what I do."
"That's not the point," Max shot back, his voice low but intense. He ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling to hold back his emotions. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into with James."
"And you do?" Nana countered, her tone sharper now.
"I know enough," Max said firmly. "Enough to know you shouldn't trust him."
Nana crossed her arms, her screen displaying a short, pointed message: "Trust isn't something I'm handing out freely these days."
Max flinched slightly, her words hitting harder than she expected. "You think this is about me?" he asked, his voice softer but no less intense.
Nana didn't answer, her silence speaking volumes.
Max stepped back, his gaze flickering between her and the door. "Fine," he said at last, his tone colder now. "Do whatever you want. But don't come running to me when you realize you've made a mistake."
Her screen flickered with a sarcastic reply: "Noted."
Max turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Nana standing there, her circuits buzzing with frustration.
She sighed, leaning against her desk as her display blinked off momentarily. She didn't know why his words bothered her so much—or why she couldn't shake the lingering tension between them.
For now, though, she pushed it aside. Whatever game James was playing, she'd find out on her own terms.