CHAPTER 48: IMPRESS HER

’Impress her?’ I thought. ’What does that even mean?’ My mind went completely blank.

Nina looked at me, her expression a mix of confusion and worry. This wasn’t a negotiation I was prepared for.

My eyes scanned the table, looking for something, anything. I saw the book she’d been writing in, and next to it, the novel she was reading. It was a thick paperback with a worn cover. The Count of Monte Cristo.

’Oh, a revenge story.’

Then I remembered the light novel I’d seen on the bottom shelf. My gut feeling about this place, about her, solidified. She wasn’t just a classic literature snob.

I knew what to do.

"You like stories about revenge," I said.

It wasn’t a question.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

I kept my voice even. "Dantès gets his revenge. He destroys his enemies, gets the treasure, and in the end, it’s supposed to feel like justice. But it just feels empty."

I saw Nina looking at me, confused. She probably thought I was about to give a book report.

"There’s a manga," I continued, my eyes locked onto hers’. "About a boy who watches his father get murdered. His entire life, from that moment on, is about one thing: earning the right to kill the man responsible, in a duel."

She leaned forward just a bit, her full attention on me now.

"He spends years as a child soldier, following this man, fighting his battles, becoming a living weapon. All for the promise of that one, final fight. It’s the only thing that keeps him going."

I took a quiet breath.

"But he never gets it," I said. "When the moment is almost there, after a decade of hate, his target is killed by someone else. Right in front of him. His revenge is stolen."

I let the words hang in the air.

"And he just... breaks. The hate that drove him, the purpose that defined his entire life, is gone in an instant. There’s nothing left. He’s not a warrior anymore. He’s just empty. A hollowed-out kid who doesn’t even know how to live a life without an enemy to kill."

I looked straight at her. "The real tragedy isn’t getting revenge and finding it hollow," I said. "It’s dedicating your life to a ghost, only to find you’ve become one, too."

She stared at me, her face completely unreadable. The silence stretched out, and I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my back. I’d either just passed the test or failed spectacularly.

Then, she spoke, her voice a quiet statement of fact.

"Vinland Saga," she said. "You’re talking about Thorfinn after Askeladd dies."

I just nodded.

A slow smile spread across her face. It was the first real expression I’d seen from her, and it changed everything.

"Not bad," she said, standing up and grabbing two chairs from a stack against the wall. She slid them across the floor toward us. "You can stay. But if you talk during reading time, I’ll kill you."

She sat back down, picked up her headphones, and disappeared back into her own world.

I just stood there, my brain trying to catch up with what my mouth had just done. I’d pulled a deep-cut manga analysis out of nowhere and it had actually worked. We were in.

Nina was staring at me, her mouth slightly open. We took the chairs the girl had offered and sat down at the long table, a safe distance away from her.

I pulled a book from my bag and opened it, trying to act like what just happened was totally normal for me. It was not. My hands were a little shaky.

Nina leaned in so close I could feel the warmth from her cheek. "What was that?" she whispered, her voice full of a kind of awe that made my face feel hot. "That was like... a secret handshake for super-nerds. How did you know to do that?"

"Shhh," I mouthed, my eyes wide as I glanced toward the girl at the end of the table. "She said she’d kill us."

"She’s not going to kill us," she whispered back, rolling her eyes. But she lowered her voice even more. "Seriously. You were like a different person. So cool and mysterious."

’Cool and mysterious?’ I was just talking about a cartoon. My face was definitely getting red.

I pulled out my phone under the table and typed a message, then slid it over to her.

Me: It wasn’t cool. I just got lucky she’d read it.

She read the message, then a grin spread across her face. She took the phone and started typing furiously. She slid it back to me.

Nina: So you’re saying you have a secret power? The ability to connect with grumpy gatekeepers through shared fictional trauma? That’s a pretty cool power.

I couldn’t help but smile at that. I took the phone back.

Me: It’s not a power. It’s a sign I read way too much.

Nina: So what’s her deal? Is she like, the final boss of the library?

I risked a glance at the girl. She had a bag next to her chair with a small, embroidered name tag on it. ’Yuna’.

Me: I think her name is Yuna. And I think she just wants to be left alone.

Nina read it, then her eyes got that mischievous glint again. She took the phone.

Nina: So you’re saying if I start singing, she’ll throw a book at me?

My eyes widened in genuine panic. I snatched the phone and typed in all caps.

Me: DON’T YOU DARE.

She saw my face, saw the message, and a laugh escaped her. It wasn’t loud, but in the dead silent room, it sounded like a gunshot.

Yuna’s head shot up, she just stared right at us—not angry or annoyed—as she slowly lifted a finger to draw a line across her throat.

Nina and I both froze.

She held our gaze for a second longer, then put her head back down, returning to her book as if nothing had happened.

Nina slowly sank down in her chair, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and delight. She looked at me, a huge, silent laugh shaking her shoulders.

I just buried my face in my book, my own shoulders shaking.

This was going to be interesting.