Nazma's eyes opened slowly.
The first thing she looked for was the stack of neatly covered books beside her pillow.
She touched their slick surfaces.
By all rights, she should have been wearing her stiff white-and-blue uniform this morning, walking through the corridors of her new school.
Instead, the silence of her room greeted her: online learning.
That damn pandemic wasn't over yet.
The school building she longed for—a grand structure that many considered one of the best in the city—remained locked tight. A strange tightness gripped her chest.
She had felt so proud to be accepted there, as if the admission letter were a medal of honor. To her, it was an arena to prove herself.
She wanted people to see her walking through those gates. She wanted the world to know that Nazma Xanthe belonged to that "prestigious school."
The Screen as a Battlefield
Bzzzt.
She finally reached for her phone. The notifications for the Class 7A group were already exploding.
[ANNOUNCEMENT]
[[Today's Schedule: English (08:00 - 09:30)
The Quiz link will be shared 5 minutes before we start.]]
Nazma sat up with a sudden jolt of energy. English. A subject she had struggled to master, yet never gave up on.
In the corner of her memory, Harvey's face appeared. Harvey—the genius who always acted like he knew better, who had once looked down on Nazma's pronunciation. That grudge had never faded; it was simply waiting for the right fuel.
"This is a good school, Na. The standards are high," Nazma whispered to herself as she grabbed her yellow notebook. "If I can be the best here, in the eyes of these great teachers, then Harvey will be nothing."
Battle Start
Nazma sat upright on her pink carpet, her focus narrowed down to one thing: the screen.
The online class began.
Tiya:
[Good morning, class. Today we will have a quick quiz to see your level…]
Nazma leaned forward. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her fingers danced across the phone's keyboard, sending answer after answer into the quiz app.
She had to do this.
Can I beat Harvey? Get a score of 100? Just you wait, Harvey.
The final click.
Nazma pulled her fingers away from the phone screen, which felt hot to the touch.
On the screen, an automated message appeared:
Your response has been submitted.
She let out a long breath she had been holding in her throat, her tense shoulders finally sagging.
Her heart was still racing; the lingering adrenaline from chasing a score against Harvey's shadow still hummed in her nerves.
Tiya's message appeared again, breaking the silence of the room.
Tiya:
[Alright, everyone. Time is up.]
[I have received all your answers. Good job for today's effort.]
She set her phone down on the carpet with cautious movements, as if the device were a recently defused bomb. Silence crept back in.
Nazma stared at her dull reflection in the black screen of her phone.
A new message popped up in the notification bar.
Tiya:
[I will check the results now. I'll announce who got the highest score this afternoon. Stay tuned!]
Nazma froze.
This afternoon?
Her face lit up. This is just like the anime I used to watch! Am I going to be the main character?
The old fan in the corner of the room whirred lazily. Suddenly, her phone vibrated with a long hum. Bzzzt.
Nazma grabbed the phone. Her long, wavy blonde hair fell over her shoulders, framing her calm face. The golden strands were slightly messy, veiling part of her cheek as she looked down at the screen. With a casual motion, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear to clear her vision.
She opened the WhoApp group for Class 7A.
Tiya:
[Check the results here, everyone. The leaderboard is out!]
With a steady thumb, Nazma clicked the link. The page loaded, and her eyes immediately shot to the top of the list.
The Leaderboard appeared.
#2 Zemiro Guil… Guli… Gui—
Nazma brought her face closer to the screen until her nose nearly touched the glass.
"…Guilherme? Giliherm? Guluh— how do you even read this?"
She tried to spell it out in her head, but her brain felt jammed.
Her eyebrows furrowed deeper.
"His name looks like a bunch of stray letters gathered into one... Gua—guil—ghil—HER—meh??"
She squinted.
"Who is this guy? A city overseas? Or the name of a flu medicine? Guilherme 500 mg."
Nazma covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. "But... it looks so cool in writing. Like a Portuguese prince. Zemiro Gilyer— Giler— whatever." She waved her hand dismissively. "The point is, he's rank 2."
A few seconds later, it finally clicked. "Wait... why is his last name so complicated?? No one in my village has a name like this. The most exotic we get is Zaki, Zul, or Zubaidi. What is this? Zemi… Guri-helme?"
Nazma sighed in resignation, a grin spreading across her face.
"Whatever. If I see him tomorrow, I'll just call him 'Zem.' Problem solved."
#2 Zemiro Guilherme – Score: 98
#3 Nazma Xanthe – Score: 95
She looked back at the name of the person in second place. The name was... perfect. His stats were incredible. Nazma stared at the board... and right below it:
#3 Nazma Xanthe – Score: 95
Her eyes widened. This leaderboard felt... hot. Her heart felt like a skill cooldown had just finished, but she still had one move left. Rank 1 was far above, but... a level-up was still possible!
She covered her mouth with her hand. At this moment, the world felt like a game arena: one click, one answer, and I could surpass Zemiro—or fail.
"Does this mean... I can actually surpass Harvey?" she thought mischievously, her heart thumping.
Nazma opened the class group to see if the teacher had collected the quiz scores. But that wasn't what appeared.
A new task.
[Create a twibbon for Japan's Independence Day. Upload before 9 PM.]
Nazma frowned. "Another twibbon? Give me a break..." Her finger scrolled lazily until her eyes caught a name on the uploadlist.
Zemiro Guilherme.
Her heart was instantly CRITICALLY HIT. "Huh? He already uploaded??" Nazma hurried to scroll up to the text, her heart racing like she was about to open an SSRloot box. When the photo opened…
Nazma froze.
The boy was wearing a black suit with a blue tie. His hair had side-swept bangs, a sweet smile showing a dimple, and his eyes crinkled warmly.
"Kyaaa, he's so handsome," she murmured, patting her chest. "I wonder what it would be like if we were partners? That would be fun."
"What if he's a playboy?" Her eyebrows knitted, her face souring. A second later she giggled, a laugh nearly exploding out of her. "Or... would he give me a ride?" She imagined herself on the back of a black motorcycle with the handsome boy, him driving her home.
She shook her head. "What are you doing, Na? You just saw him and you're already daydreaming. You're losing it."
I have to study English with Zemirouuuu! A pure smile broke out. Nazma opened a message, her thumb hovering over the screen. His profile picture was some dark fire figure—strange, but intriguing. If I ask to study together...would he want to?
With her face heating up.
Nazma typed, her fingers felt stiff. Every letter felt like it was fighting her.
"Uh... what should I write first?" she muttered.
Nazma:
[Hi, Zemiro. Congrats on getting rank 2 in the quiz. That's really cool 😅👏]