Hana tightened the straps of her backpack, making sure her "armor" was securely in place. Her armor wasn't made of steel or Kevlar; it was a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, an oversized navy hoodie, and a worn-out copy of a light novel pressed against her chest.
To the students of Westview High, Hana was a glitch in the system. She was the person you accidentally bumped into in the hallway because your brain simply didn't register she was there. She was the "Glass Girl"—transparent, silent, and easily shattered if anyone bothered to look close enough.
“Target acquired,” she whispered to herself, a habit she picked up from re-watching the GGO arc for the tenth time.
Her target was the far corner of the library, the one where the radiator hissed too loudly and the lightbulbs flickered. It was the only place in the school where the "Invisible Hana" felt truly safe.
She settled into the dust-covered chair, opening her book. As she turned the pages, the sterile white walls of the school faded away. In her mind, she was standing on a scorched desert floor, the weight of a Hecate II sniper rifle heavy and comforting in her hands. She wasn't a girl who stuttered when the teacher called her name; she was a marksman who never missed.
THUD.
The sound of a heavy gym bag hitting the floor made Hana jump. Her glasses slid down her nose.
"Man, they just don't stop, do they?"
Hana froze. She didn't look up. If she didn't look up, maybe she would remain invisible.
A shadow fell over her table. It was a large shadow, blocking out the dim light of the library window. She caught the scent of laundry detergent and expensive citrus cologne.
"Is this seat taken? Actually, don't answer that. I’m already sitting. If Chloe asks, I went to the nurse's office with a… I don't know, a spontaneous leg cramp."
Hana slowly lifted her gaze. Sitting across from her was Ren.
Ren—the star point guard, the boy whose face was on every school poster, the guy who walked down the hall like he owned the air everyone else breathed. He was currently slumped in the chair, his messy blonde hair damp with sweat from morning practice. He looked exhausted.
He didn't look at her at first. He just leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Hana's heart hammered against her ribs. Just stay still, she told herself. He’ll realize I’m a nerd and leave in thirty seconds. People like him don't stay in corners like this.
Ren opened one eye. He glanced at Hana, then down at the table. His gaze landed on the book she was holding.
Hana instinctively tried to hide the cover, but it was too late. Ren’s eyes widened. The "Golden Boy" mask he usually wore—the one with the confident, easy smile—slipped for a fraction of a second.
"Is that… the third volume of the Phantom Bullet arc?" he asked. His voice wasn't loud or performative. It was quiet, almost hesitant.
Hana blinked, her throat dry. "Y-yes."
Ren leaned forward, his eyes locked on the illustration of a blue-haired girl with a massive rifle. "The scene where she takes the shot from fifteen-hundred meters?"
Hana felt a strange spark in her chest. For the first time in years, someone wasn't looking through her. They were looking at what she loved.
"One thousand, eight hundred meters," Hana corrected softly, her voice trembling but certain. "She had to account for the wind speed and the heat shimmer from the desert floor. Most people think it was luck. It wasn't."
Ren stared at her. Not with pity, and not with the "celebrity" boredom she expected. He looked at her with genuine, high-definition clarity.
"Sinon," he whispered, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She’s the only one in that whole show who actually knows what it's like to be afraid of your own shadow."
Hana felt her breath catch. Outside, in the hallway, she could hear the muffled sound of footsteps and girls calling Ren’s name. But in this dusty corner, the "Glass Girl" felt like she was finally starting to reflect some light.
"I'm Ren," he said, extending a hand over the table.
Hana looked at his hand, then back at his eyes. She didn't take it—not yet. She was too used to being a ghost to suddenly become human.
"I know who you are," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Ren sighed, looking toward the library door. "Everyone thinks they do. But I think you're the first person today who hasn't asked me about the championship game."
He looked back at her, his expression turning serious. "What's your name? I've seen you here before, but... you're hard to find."
Hana tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her fingers brushing against her glasses.
"Hana," she
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whispered. "My name is Hana."
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and then Add to home screen.