"How long has it been since I've gone outside…?" I muttered under my breath as I lay on nothing, floating around in this library. The only sounds were the tick-tock of clocks and soft bells ringing every so often.
This was my life—a boring yet peaceful life, I'd say. As the librarian who guards even the most forgotten stories in the universe, I stare at the same old hour hands, watching over each timeline to keep them from colliding and causing chaos in this small yet vast space I call home.
I was originally not from this world, just a young student with a promising future. It was overwhelming, all the pressure I felt back then—but now… it only seems like a distant memory I'll never forget.
I glanced down at the watch in my hands.
"Oh. I guess it's that time again."
Floating toward one of the shelves, I opened a book and yawned. From within, small worlds began to rise and drift like bubbles through the air. I've always found that part a bit unusual… even now.
I watched carefully, checking each world's timeline for inconsistencies, just as I always do. But then—I softly gasped.
"Was that… Did someone just look into my eyes?"
It couldn't be. It was just a fantasy story. Magic is normal there… but this?
I wanted to make sure it wasn't a coincidence, so I gently grasped onto that particular world and looked around. There it was—a young child, I presume to be a teenager, around the same age as I was at the time. He had a unique appearance—lavender hair and pink eyes.Is that a part of the setting in this story?
I gently released the small world and turned back to the book it had floated from. Text began to appear across the pages, and I found myself reading it—driven by curiosity.
Curiosity…?
I looked into a hand mirror that was just floating around randomly.
It's been a while.
I observed the world a little more, flipping through the lines as they described the boy's movements—walking through a crowded market, speaking to someone I didn't recognize, glancing up at a tower.
I found myself staring longer than I meant to. The other books drifted quietly around me, forgotten. There was something about him—his lavender hair catching the light, his eyes too bright for the dull colors of his world.
The book continued writing, faithfully recording every motion. Was he the protagonist?
Just as I leaned in closer, a new line etched itself across the page. The ink formed slowly… like it knew I was watching.
"You're not supposed to be watching me."
I froze.
The clocks above me skipped a tick. One of the bells gave a sharp chime, then fell silent.
That line wasn't narration.
It was a message.
Oh no… Did I just break one of the timelines? This has never happened before.
I should have felt fear. I should have panicked.
But instead… I felt something else. Something warm, buzzing just under the surface.
My heart pounded. A red flush crept across my cheeks.
Curiosity? Anticipation?
Whatever it was—it scared me more than the mistake itself.