James quickly shoved his hands into his pockets. His books were under his arms while he quickly made his way away from Mary Shioyami and her sanctum. He could tell that this was the turning point. It was all downhill from here. With a few connecting hreads, charm, charisma, and others, he could see the ending of he path he had chose. The path to have Mary feel his love to be mutual was what James Chaise Goldaming had chose.

He had to assess the final event very thoroughly. He had to set up the whole ordeal in advance. He also had to take Mary's love of reading into account. She was a bookworm. He knew that a bookworm is broader than a normal human when it comes to thinking. When encountering an event, they will most likely relate it to fictional events, since the target is a bookworm plus she's also predictable and a timid type. Therefore, the best option that James could do was win her over in a fictional way.

The only real obstacle that stood in the way of James' conquest was Mary's lack of physical voice. He was able to make her speak, but that was him being extreme. He had to find a way to get her to be open while being comfortable. She's also predictable when it came to her actions. He needed her to make her comfort zone in an uncomfortable situation. A best of both worlds.

Meanwhile, Mary was assessing her spot in the matter. She had acquainted herself with this weird boy whose name was James. He was mean in a sneaky way, kind of like big passive-aggressive, calling the shots from afar without ever throwing a punch. He was smart in an insensitive way, probably willing to straight-up call someone stupid to their face. He was warm in a cold way, trying to fix things he liked by using extreme methods. He was complex, yet he was simple at the same time. He always left his conversations open, never big conclusive. He let others put the pieces of the puzzle together because he knew everyone liked to figure it out themselves.

Mary had a feeling he was doing the same thing to her. She felt like the past events she had been involved in with that man were part of a bigger picture. Maybe he had already set the pieces up for her. All she had to do was to see how they fit together.

Mary paused for a moment. She went back and gathered her thoughts. The insult to books, his reflexes, the spot where he sits, the impulsive comebacks, the writing in his book, it all had to fit together. Whether it was a simple answer, or a complex idea that spanned across the past or future, maybe their fates were entwined in some way, like a spiders' net. It was made to trap something specific, but what? Was this a coincidence? Or was everything connected with a single thread?

Mary was tired and impatient from all the thinking she was forced into doing. What was James' master plan? She couldn't bear the thought of world domination, the pursuit of perfection, or solving global warming by killing a fourth of the world's population. All of the most radical and extreme stories she could think of popped into her head. She then quickly wondered if James was just a figment of her imagination. She recently had read so many stories, she may have unconsciously made up someone who was charming, smart, kind of handsome, mean, devious, and imperfect. But one thing stuck out to her most.

She wondered what he would do next.

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James had I all set up. He practiced once, so he was confident with all of the technicalities. It was time for the final event. He had decided to do it when everyone other than Mary and himself were in the library. James placed the last book up and was ready to begin the show.

Mary was on the second floor because of an 'anonymous tip' had summoned her there to shelve a cart of books. James had a feeling she would read them before shelving them, so he relied on that deduction to buy him some time to set up.

When James was done setting up, he checked his watch. It was about four-thirty in the afternoon, and he looked at his set-up. It was show time. He took a deep breath and jogged up the stairs to the second floor of the library.

"Hey Mary, what's up?" he asked her casually. Mary jumped in surprise, probably not expecting anyone else to still be in the library at this time.

"Umm...shelving books?" she said. James smiled to himself by pointing to her cart.

"There were ten books on that cart when I walked by an hour ago. Now, there's only, yup, count 'em, eight." he pointed out. She blushed out of embarrassment. He caught her out of her comfort zone. Now, time for the attack.

"Can we talk?" he asked. She froze, then began blushing uncontrollably. He hoped she would accept out of nervousness.

"Umm...sure. About...what?" she said quietly.

"You." James answered, smiling at her. She froze again in embarrassed shock, she began to act more flustered than usual. She then took a deep breath and looked at him with her deep brown eyes and glasses.

"Umm...my name is Mary Shioyami. Born March 9th. Blood type AB. I like reading. I dislike talking. I have inherited tuberculosis that has flared up recently and..." she said. She then coughed once. It was odd timing to prove her point, in James' opinion.

"I see." James said. He put his hands on her shoulders, looking at her it her eyes. James lost himself in them, leaving reality for a second.

"James..." she said. She then began to cough more.

"Mary...our story, it doesn't end here. There are still more chapters!" he shouted. She continued coughing for another ten seconds, with no pause in between.

"Uhh...Mary, are you okay?" James asked her. She kept coughing uncontrollably while she hunched over. She then put her hand on the bookshelf next to her, supporting her weight. She then collapsed to her knees, still coughing, while James patted her back.

"Mary..." James barely managed. She then coughed up blood, still coughing after two minutes nonstop.

"J-A-M-E-S." Mary spelled between coughs. She looked at the blood on her hands, then collapsed in James' arms.