Chapter 2 First Contact Equals Rejection
If there was one thing Oom Eisaya was good at, it was avoidance.
Avoiding eye contact.
Avoiding conversations.
Avoiding situations that required her to act like a functioning, confident human being.
Unfortunately, fate—or more specifically, her poor life decisions—had placed her directly in a situation where avoidance was no longer an option.
“Why are you walking like that?”
“I’m not walking like anything.”
“You look like you’re about to enter a battlefield.”
Oom stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to glare at Yada, who was strolling beside her with entirely too much energy for a Friday morning.
“It is a battlefield,” Oom muttered. “There are people. And expectations. And her.”
Yada gasped dramatically. “Ah yes. The final boss.”
“She’s not a boss.”
“She made you question your existence in under a minute.”
“That was a moment of weakness.”
“That was your entire personality collapsing.”
Oom resumed walking, faster this time, as if speed alone could save her from the inevitable.
Today was the Psychology Wellness Club orientation.
Which meant she would have to see Bam Saralee again.
Oom had spent the last two days preparing mentally for this moment. By “preparing,” she meant overthinking every possible interaction to the point where her brain now refused to function normally.
Okay. It’s fine. Just go in, sit down, don’t talk, don’t stare, don’t exist too loudly.
“Do you even hear yourself?” Yada asked.
Oom blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes.”
“…great.”
They reached the classroom assigned for the club. The door was slightly open, voices drifting out into the hallway.
Oom froze.
“Go,” Yada said, nudging her forward.
“No.”
“You’re already here.”
“I can still leave.”
“You signed up.”
“I can unsign.”
“That’s not a thing.”
Oom considered pretending to faint.
Before she could commit to the idea, the door opened.
And there she was.
Bam Saralee.
Standing right in front of her again, like the universe had decided Oom’s suffering needed consistency.
For a brief second, their eyes met.
Oom forgot every single thought she had ever had.
Bam’s gaze was as calm and unreadable as before, but there was a flicker of recognition this time.
“…Oom Eisaya.”
Oom nearly ascended.
She remembered my name.
“She remembers your name,” Yada whispered loudly from behind.
Oom elbowed her without breaking eye contact. Or breathing.
“Yes,” Oom said, voice somehow working despite her internal collapse. “That’s me.”
“Orientation is starting,” Bam said simply. “You’re blocking the entrance.”
Oom looked behind her.
There were people waiting.
“Oh.”
Not again.
She stepped aside so fast she almost apologized to the door.
“Sorry— I mean—”
Bam had already turned and walked back inside.
Oom stood there for a second, staring after her.
“…I’m going to pass away,” she whispered.
Yada patted her shoulder. “Not before the plot starts.”
---
The classroom was moderately full, filled with students from different departments. Some chatted casually, others sat quietly, scrolling through their phones.
Oom chose a seat in the far corner.
Naturally.
Yada, however, chose the seat right next to her and leaned in like she was about to watch a live drama unfold.
“This is exciting.”
“This is not exciting.”
“This is the beginning of your love story.”
“This is the beginning of my downfall.”
At the front of the room, Bam stood beside another woman—tall, composed, with an air of quiet authority.
“Good morning,” the woman said, her voice smooth and steady. “I’m Professor Dew Santos, the advisor for the Psychology Wellness Club.”
Oom straightened slightly.
Professor Dew’s presence was… different. Not intimidating like Bam, but observant in a way that made you feel like she could read your thoughts if she wanted to.
“Before we begin,” Professor Dew continued, “I’d like everyone to introduce themselves briefly. Name, course, and why you joined the club.”
Oom felt her soul leave her body.
“No,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Yada whispered back.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The introductions started from the front row.
One by one, students stood up, gave their names, and sat back down. Some were confident, some were awkward, but all of them were functioning better than Oom currently was.
“Relax,” Yada murmured. “Just say something simple.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I will say something wrong.”
“You always say something wrong.”
“Exactly.”
The line moved closer.
Oom’s heart rate increased with each passing second.
Then—
“Oom Eisaya.”
She froze.
Oh.
It was her turn.
Slowly, like someone being forced to face their destiny, Oom stood up.
Every eye in the room turned toward her.
Including Bam’s.
Oom swallowed.
“My name is Oom Eisaya,” she began, voice slightly shaky. “I’m a second-year Architecture student.”
So far, so good.
“And I joined this club because—”
Her brain stopped.
Completely.
Blank.
Nothing.
No thoughts. No words. Just Bam Saralee looking at her.
Say something.
Anything.
“…because mental health is important.”
A beat.
“That’s a good reason,” Professor Dew said with a small nod.
Oom sat down immediately.
“I survived,” she whispered.
“Barely,” Yada replied.
---
After a few more introductions, it was Bam’s turn.
“I’m Bam Saralee. Third-year Psychology.”
Her voice was calm, steady, effortlessly composed.
“I joined because I believe understanding emotions is essential.”
Of course she did.
Of course she would say something like that.
Oom stared at her.
Understanding emotions? Then why do you make mine malfunction?
“Still staring,” Yada muttered.
“I’m observing.”
“You’re obsessed.”
“I am not—”
“Miss Eisaya.”
Oom froze.
Professor Dew was looking at her.
“Yes?”
“Would you like to share your thoughts on emotional awareness?”
Oom blinked.
“I—what?”
“You seem very focused,” Professor Dew said mildly.
Yada choked on her drink.
Oom wanted to disappear.
“I—uh—emotions are… there.”
Brilliant.
Truly groundbreaking.
Professor Dew smiled slightly, as if amused. “Yes. They are.”
Oom sank into her chair.
“I’m never speaking again,” she whispered.
---
After the session, students began to gather their things.
Oom stood up quickly.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Already?” Yada grinned. “Don’t you want to talk to your senpai?”
“No.”
“You’ve made so much progress.”
“I’ve made enough progress.”
“You said three sentences.”
“That’s my limit.”
Before Yada could argue further, someone stepped into their path.
Tantan Kaito.
She was tall, composed, with a sharp gaze that felt… knowing.
“Interesting introduction,” Tantan said, looking directly at Oom.
Oom stiffened.
“Thank you?”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“…oh.”
Yada snorted.
Tantan’s attention shifted briefly to Yada, something flickering in her eyes—interest, maybe amusement.
“First-year?” she asked.
“Second,” Yada replied confidently. “And you are?”
“Tantan Kaito.”
Yada smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
The energy between them shifted instantly.
Oom, standing awkwardly to the side, felt like she had just walked into a completely different subplot.
“…I’m going to go,” she said quietly.
“Wait,” Yada said, not taking her eyes off Tantan. “I’ll catch up.”
Of course she would.
Oom sighed and turned—
Only to stop.
Because Bam Saralee was standing right there.
Again.
Why does she keep appearing like this?
“Oom Eisaya.”
There it was again.
Her name, spoken so simply, yet doing irreversible damage to her nervous system.
“Yes?”
There was a brief pause.
Then Bam said, “Try not to embarrass yourself next time.”
Oom blinked.
“I—what?”
“You were nervous,” Bam continued, tone neutral. “It was obvious.”
Oom felt something in her chest tighten.
“I know,” she said quietly.
Another pause.
Then—
“If you’re going to be part of this club,” Bam added, “you should learn to control it.”
Oom stared at her.
Control it?
Her emotions?
Her reactions?
Her entire existence?
“I’ll try,” she said.
Bam nodded once.
Then, just like before, she turned and walked away.
Leaving Oom standing there, confused, slightly hurt, and very, very aware of something new settling in her chest.
Not just embarrassment.
Not just attraction.
But something sharper.
Something that made her want to prove something.
“…what was that?” Yada asked, suddenly appearing beside her again.
Oom didn’t look away from where Bam had disappeared.
“I think,” she said slowly, “she just challenged me.”
Yada grinned.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Oom wasn’t sure if she agreed.
But one thing was certain.
This wasn’t going to be simple.
Not anymore.