I love my friends. Despite the initial shock, every one of them needed to see the science for themselves by the end of the week. Not because they didn't trust me, but because seeing the facts with your own eyes is that important.

Now, the jokes have stopped. They know I really went there, and that I came back because I didn't want to give up my life here, with them.

I even worked up the courage to tell them that if I did ever go again, I... well, I wouldn't come back. Every single one of them understood.

That leaves me in the here and now. Which, despite my awesome friends, fucking sucks.

Because graduation and college and the end of my life as I know it.

Part of me wants to just go with the flow like I always have, but I know that won't work this time. Not for my major. Whichever one I choose, it's going to bring an end to the boiling war of passive aggression and implode my family.

Part wants to to spite the fuckers and go into art or some shit. But that would get me disowned.

Just get a job? Fat chance in this economy without a degree. Oh, and I'd still get disowned.

Maybe I could try selling the gold coins to get by, but as it turns out, outside high school, nine thousand dollars doesn't go that far in the real world.

Bring the issue to my distant relatives? Knowing my grandparents, they'd pick sides and my entire extended family would fucking explode. Probably go full blood feud...

Can't crash with any friends, they'll be at college or moving away, gig jobs are exploitative shit that won't pay the bills. Affordable community housing is shit too, and has been getting defunded since the last election...

No matter what I come up with, I can't see a way out. Back in Verilz, what the fuck was I thinking? Not giving up my life here? My life is a fucking dead end!

I'm practically guaranteed to end up ousted by my parents, homeless, probably end up in prostitution because I have no realistically useful skills after twelve full years of mandatory education!

The things I'm best at are video games and Japanese after so many fucking years being forced to learn it as stupid fucking passive aggressive emotional abuse by that fucking cunt!

And I will be DAMNED before I make a career out of the exact thing that bitch has forced me to do all these years!

I swear to fucking god if I ever have a daughter, she is going to be the most precious thing in this whole god damn miserable world and I am going to love her absolutely unconditionally because it should NOT BE THAT FUCKING HARD.

Then, there's my last way out. Unfortunately, it's to win the magic lottery I already noped out of because I'm a fucking moron.

Even so, I haven't been able to help the secret wish in my heart that I just get whisked away from all my problems to live happily ever after in magical fantasy land. It's a stupid, childish wish that I think a lot of people probably have on some level.

The problem with me, the reason I can't let it go: I know it's real.

That's why despite it being absolutely ridiculous, not to mention stupid and potentially dangerous, I've started carrying my three gold coins with me in the runup to graduation.

On one hand: let's carry almost ten thousand dollars around, what could possibly go wrong?

On the other: who would expect an ordinary highschooler to walk around with almost ten-k in their pocket?

Either way, I'm just being stupid and superstitious. Why would carrying things from Verilz make you more likely to get pulled over there?

But I have no proof that it doesn't.

So the hope stays in my heart, and the coins in my pocket, all the way through those last few weeks of school. Those precious last dungeon raids with my friends, where we even manage to get me that final piece of legendary gear, the one I've always wanted.

And at last, up through graduation practice. Getting caps and gowns.

And through graduation itself with the speeches and hollow words of congratulation with a room full of uncomfortable metal folding chairs and a whole gaggle of gawking, sobbing, happy parents. And mine.

This is it, I guess. This is the end. My life heading down this one track road into a big brick wall with nothing but pits lining both sides to ensure I never derail the train.

The other graduates file up, names called one after another.

Isn't there anything I could have done? Be better in school, or worse? Call my parents out on their behavior? Try to get them to fight for real?

Or just get them to love me more than they hate each other?

Pointless. Of course nothing I could have done would make them love me. Because they never did, right from the beginning. They didn't see me as a person worthy of their love or respect. I've only ever been a tool, a weapon to wield against each other in their pointless, petty game of 'who can stay silent longer?'

“Yumi Williams.” I rise, pushing listlessly through this life. None of this has ever been about me, I'm not the main character in my own life. I'm just a tool, trapped in this little bubble, pushed around by the whims of others who ultimately decide my fate.

Onstage, I approach the man, someone of importance like the principal I guess. With a strained, professional grin for the cameras and outstretched hand holding the papers that will consign me to my doom.

I want to scream. Want to throw myself on the floor and scream and at least try to make my struggle known.

But my hand is coming up, reaching toward the diploma, even as my feet remain cemented in place. My desperation for agency battling a lifetime of trained, people-pleasing, non-inflaming responses to the figures of authority that could crush me underheel on a whim.

Desperation is losing. Even knowing I'm careening straight toward a dead end, the thought of stepping out of line is absolutely fucking terrifying.

I'm losing. With gnashing teeth and a dull, strangled cry failing continuously to rip itself from my throat, my foot begins to move, to take those final steps, straight to my own end, because I'm too weak. Too weak to stand up.

To the principal and his stupid fake smile.

To my teachers and their shitty curriculum which didn't prepare me for the real world.

To my passive aggressive, controlling parents.

To myself. And my fears.

I fail. I take those steps. I reach for that paper.

I give up on myself.

Then I'm granted a a second chance.

Tripping into a stumbling fall, I go sprawling out on the rough ground. I roll flat onto my back.

For just a moment, I'm stunned and confused. Was I so panicked that I tripped over my own feet?

But then an angry, inhuman snarl comes with a large hand yanking me up from the ground.

“Woah!” I gasp as the whole world turns around me and I'm suddenly staring into the face of a very furry wolf-man.

He barks something at me, but I don't understand it.

I'm still stuck. Halfway between the despair at my crumbling, hopeless life, and the shocked realization that the wish buried deep in my heart actually came true.

But the angry wolf man isn't going to wait. “I'm sorry,” I immediately apologize on reflex, even though I don't know what for. It does succeed in stemming his anger long enough for me to think things through.

“Oh, did I bump into you? I'm sorry about that.” That must be how I tripped, getting brought over mid-step like that.

The wolf man stands, confused as he looks me over for a moment. Then he says, “Otherworlder.”

Even though he doesn't inflect it as a question, I answer, “Yes, I'm an otherworlder.”

“Ahh,” he answers slowly, clearly still confused. “Adventurer guild. Come.” And he finally sets me down, making me realize how incredibly tall he is.

“O-oh, alright!” He's going to take me there himself? Is it far enough that he doesn't think I can make it on my own? Or is he just really nice? I guess it's the latter, because we only travel a few blocks before reaching the building, even more massive and imposing than the other. Despite having no intention of going back, I did make sure to memorize my landing location, just in case I need to know it for some other reason.

On the walk over, I pick up one pretty big piece of information: this totally isn't the same place as last time.

There are animal people everywhere. All kinds of them. Wolf, cat, bird, lizard, bunny, and those are just the obvious ones that I know about. There are far more with animal traits I can't place at a glance.

There are humans here and there too, though I only catch glances because there are so few of them. Still more than the couple animal people I saw last time though.

I don't know if it's because it's dark out, but the people all around look different than last time. Well, maybe I'm just not used to the animal traits.

Once inside the guild, we approach the front counter, just like in the other guild. A glance around reveals that it has a similar layout as the other. At the counter, there's another wolf man, this one extremely tall with bright white fur.

The men trade some words, then turn to look at me. Why do they seem... not quite as friendly as last time?

“Umm, hi?”

“Are you an otherworlder?” the receptionist asks.

“Yes.”

“You don't look like one.”

“I don't...” I don't look like one? When I check myself, I realize I'm still wearing my graduation cap and gown. I'd forgotten all about them as the relief began to set in.

“Oh, you're right. These don't look like my normal clothes.” Still, why are they so much less friendly? Maybe they think I'm lying, that could be it since the last people were really nice and apologetic toward otherworlders, so lying about something like that would be really bad.

To prove my words, I take off my cap and pull the gown up over my head. “Ah, there you go,” I say.

Holding the gown over and arm, I have a black tank top and jean shorts I was wearing underneath because the gown was a bit stifling.

“Oh.” They both have the same wide-eyed response. Then, “I'm very sorry, miss,” comes from the receptionist. He bows deeply. “We've wronged you for our own selfish reasons, we apologize.”

“Oh, no, that's fine!” I wave my hands at his response. “It was just a little misunderstanding, not the end of the world.”

Off to the side, the first wolf man looks so ashamed, I can see his blush through his fur. Meanwhile, the receptionist says, “Thank you for being so understanding. Now, you should be glad to know we can send you back home.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Actually, I want to stay.”

“What? But, what about your world? Don't you have a family and a life there? You don't even know anything about our world!” He almost sounds scolding.

I'm already shaking my hands to stem his outrage. “Sorry, sorry, actually, I put a lot of thought into this.” They may be harder to read with the wolfy faces, but my claim is met with clear skepticism anyway. “I've actually been to this world before. I went home, like you said. But then I realized how my life there was terrible, and I've regretted going back ever since. That's why I'm staying this time, I never thought I would get a second chance. But... I did, so I'm taking it.”

The receptionist takes some time before responding. “I see. That is unusual. If you don't mind, where did you appear your first time in Verilz?”

“The plane of Emerald, in a town called Emriset. Do you know of it?”

“Sorry, no. I haven't heard of it, so it must be somewhere far away.”

“Oh...” I really would have liked to go back there. The people were so nice. I mean, not that I'd want to work in the bar for the rest of my life, but if it got me a place to sleep, at least that would be something. Hell of a lot better than what I had waiting for me in my old life.

I am disappointed I can't go back to thank them for how well they treated me though.

No, it's still possible, I just have to find my way back someday. They have adventurers here, I could become one and go on an adventure of my own to thank them.

And... now I feel like a D&D character. Whatever, it's a long-term plan. For now, I have more immediate concerns, like his next question. “Uhh, sorry, what was that?” I totally missed it while lost in thoughts of Emriset.

“I asked, was it a human settlement?”

“Oh, umm, yes? I mean, I didn't see much of it, but there were humans everywhere, yeah. I did see a couple animal-people whi-” I cut short when their gazes turn harsh. “Sorry, did I say something?”

The receptionist huffs, then answers, “Terms like those are used by humans to insult our kind. You wouldn't know, but please do not use it again in the future.”

My eyes turn to saucers. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I had no idea!” Did I just use this world's equivalent of the n-word?! I just keep sputtering apologies until I think to ask, “What do I call you?”

The wolves thankfully look pacified when he says, “Altraska. In your tongue, it roughly means, 'those of two forms.'”

“O-ok. Thank you. I'm sorry. What I meant to say is that I saw a few altraska while I was in Emriset.”

I just begin to consider going on and mentioning which kinds when I realize I don't know how to do that. Not about to put my foot in my mouth again so soon, I ask how to address them properly, so he explains that they would be called bunny-altra and cat-altra, along with the Panir versions of 'cat' and 'bunny.' He even adds on the 'wolf' term. It's a lot to remember, but I figure I'm going to mostly be using their language from now on, so I definitely need to get fluent as soon as I can.

Oh my god I need to learn to read again.

Pushing that for later, I keep working on the immediate concerns I need to deal with.

First lodging, then work. It sounds like my best bet is working and staying at a nearby tavern.

I think to leave it there, since we've already talked a lot and I have so much more to deal with anyway.

But before I go, the receptionist has a little more to say. First, he gives me his name, Malic, and I return my own.

Then... “There is something you must know, Yumi. Humans and Altraska are enemy races.” What. “We fight all the time and do terrible things to one another. I won't lie, I hate humans just as much as the next person.”

Breath caught in my throat and unable to respond, I just listen. “Otherworlders are an exception. You come from a different place where this hatred doesn't exist, so you treat us with decency. This is why most of our kind will treat you well in return.”

Oh... so if I wasn't an otherworlder... Immediately, my thoughts flash back to when I was wearing my gown and they weren't sure if they should believe me.

“You must remember to wear those clothes as long as you want our kind to recognize you as not of this world on sight.” I nod stiffly. Living here might be harder than I thought. “However, there are those of our kind who have been wronged so badly that they will not care that you are not like the others. You must be very careful, there are those who would do you harm based on their hatred of humans.”

I gulp, my throat gone dry. Way back then, Ethinmond told me this world was dangerous. I guess this is part of it.

“Thank you for all the help, I'll come back tomorrow after, uhh, getting settled in.”

“Good, it is always nice to meet a kind otherworlder. I hope you can live a better life here than the one you left behind.”

After saying farewell to Malic, the other wolf-altra leads me from the building. When he asks, his English far, far from Malic's fluent speech, I tell him that I'll go to the nearest tavern, for work, food, and rest for the day.

The dark furred wolf actually leads me to a tavern just a couple blocks down the road. When we arrive, he stands, looming over me for a few seconds, before speaking. “Very sorry. I owe you debt. Call me, I help you. My name Garth.” I don't really know how to respond. Just because he was a bit unfriendly earlier? With a hand pressed to his heart, he bows down so deeply, it's startling.

I blink owlishly, then he spins and lopes off into the crowd. I... am I even going to see him again with so many other people in this town?

“They really take offending otherworlders seriously...” I mumble while heading inside. It doesn't take much to explain my circumstances to the tavern owner, then I get to work.

The work is a lot rougher than I remember. Even with my clothes, I'm still human. I can't recognize almost anything the patrons are saying, but the barks, hisses, growls, and rowdy laughter don't tell a good story.

I'm... not used to this. Prejudice. Or, having it aimed at me. Even though I'm not even one of the people they're prejudiced against!

It's like when a racist calls someone a 'dirty Mexican' based on the color of their skin, but that person is from The Netherlands. It doesn't make any sense, but it hurts anyway.

I try not to mind it. If what Malic said is right, their race has been badly harmed by people who look just like me. If they hate humans for being terrible to them, then I have to show that I'm different. I doubt it will work for most, but at least a few might treat me just a little better?

Thinking that, I try to greet the angry, hateful customers with a smile. Sure, it doesn't work for them all, but between the attitude and clothes, most can clearly see I'm not one of their enemies.

There are still far more than enough who clearly don't care, calling me back to their tables repeatedly, going on in their language so I have to ask for help from the lizard-altra bartender.

Eventually, it all blends together. By the time I feel too tired to keep working, and too hungry to stay upright much longer, I have no idea how long I've been working. It feels like when I pulled those weekend all-nighters to clear a new zone or take on a world boss.

But way worse. All my muscles are sore, my throat hoarse from greeting customers and calling out orders. And there's an angry growling pit in my stomach demanding I feed it. Even the adrenaline rush that comes with working in such a hectic, high-pressure, alien environment, I just can't go anymore. I'm about to literally fall down.

“Hey, Limmera,” I call to the lizard bartender, his race looking something like a komodo dragon. “I'm, uhh, really tired. Can I get some 'food' and, umm, a 'room?' No, wait. 'Money.' Can I get my pay so I have 'money' for them?” I'm so zoned out I'm slipping Panir words into my speech on reflex after... “How long have I been working?”

“Haha,” the man laughs, “been at it sixteen hours now.” But it's still dark out... “Impressive for a fresh otherworlder. Here you go.” He hands me some coins that I shove in a pocket, followed by a key that joins them. Then a big plate of food and mug of ale just like what I've been serving the customers lands on the counter in front of me.

Wait, did he just say sixteen hours...?

I take a seat at the bar as he walks away and the next thing I know, I'm done. I don't even think I tasted it.

“Third floor, seventh door on the left,” the barkeep calls as I rise from my seat. With a wave and a thanks, I stumble my way upstairs.

Am I drunk? I've never had alcohol before. I make it to the right room, ensuring I lock it behind me because I know how that story goes, before falling into bed. I don't even remember hitting the mattress.