Tilli’s Second Chance – Chapter 12

I can’t keep still. One minute I’m crossing and uncrossing my legs, the next I’m wringing my hands together like I want to strangle someone. After weeks of nonstop work, today’s the day we either achieve our dreams or crash and burn in a spectacular fashion. No pressure, right?

Considering this is a spaceship design contest, ‘crash and burn’ is not an option.

Kaito sits next to me, chill as always, reviewing the slides again like the fate of my future doesn’t hang in the balance here. How does he do that? Me, I’m vibrating in place over what the judges will think, what Professor Nishimura will say, whether we have any hope in hell of pulling this off.

This is my only chance to be admitted into the Interstellar Agency. It’s my only way out of my boring, failure-ridden life. If I don’t make it in, I’m going to need to get a job at a café, pulling coffees for people and serving up pastries.

Oh, wow. I could use both right now.

The waiting area’s empty except for us. The team before us is giving their presentation, and we’re last. Muffled sounds filter through the doors — laughter, clapping, people actually enjoying this nerve-racking experience. Am I the only one feeling like I might throw up? I knew I should have built a mini prototype to wow them with. Simulations aren’t going to cut it. They have to see how crazy adaptable our spaceship design could be.

Shit. I should have built that.

I glance at the clock on the wall. Do I have time to put something together right now?

Kaito grabs my hand and squeezes it, dragging my attention away from the impending doom long enough to meet his gaze. “Believe in the vision,” he says, as if it’s just that easy. “Share your passion with them. The rest will follow. I’ve seen enough of these presentations to know you’ll be fine, and they’re going to listen. You’ll go in there, kill this presentation, and we’ll celebrate later. I promise.”

Slowly, his Zen-master confidence works its magic, calming the stampede of doubts and what-ifs rampaging through my mind. He’s right, as usual. The design will speak for itself. I just need to shepherd it forward.

The doors swing open and out stride Riku and Hiroko, faces flushed with the thrill of victory. Riku spots me, a smirk twisting his arrogant lips as his eyes gleam with malicious delight.

Oh great. Here we go. If I thought I was going to be sick before, I’m sure to be now.

Maybe I can puke on his feet.

“Well, well, if it isn’t little Miss Perfect and her stoic sidekick.” Riku oozes smug satisfaction as he saunters over, hands in his pockets. “Hope you’re ready to be shown up. Hiroko here just gave the presentation of a lifetime.”

Hiroko blinks at his boast, her eyebrows drawn together. “Riku, what are you —”

He cuts her off, never taking his infuriating gaze off me. “You’re going to have to work miracles to beat her. Not that you have a chance, but watching you fail before the entire panel will be deeply satisfying.”

My hands clench at my sides, itching to smack the self-congratulating look off his face.

Deep breaths, Tilli. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

I’m best off ignoring him, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave. He wants to triumph over me. Rub his victory in my face.

Riku leans in close, dropping his voice to a malicious purr meant only for me. “You don’t belong here and now the entire world will know it, princess. Why don’t you do us all a favor and go back to your fancy estate? Leave the futures to those of us with the vision and talent to build them.”

How dare he. Weeks of work and sleepless nights to be dismissed by this arrogant jackass who couldn’t care less about anything but his own glory?

I have visions of him burning in hell. The thought is extremely comforting.

Kaito’s hand settles on my shoulder in silent support, keeping my wavering calm in place as fury ignites inside me.

I stand up and step forward until we’re nose to nose, lowering my voice to a deadly promise. “You have no idea what we’re capable of, but you’re about to find out. Get ready to eat those words.”

His eyes widen before narrowing, uncertainty flickering behind all that disdain. My smile is all teeth and confidence as I lean closer still. “Your future just walked in. I hope you brought your appetite.”

Check and mate. Let the games begin.

Professor Nishimura appears at the door, spots us, and smiles. “Shall we start?”

Begin? I can barely breathe.

We walk through the doors into controlled chaos. The lecture hall is packed with faculty and industry execs here to judge us. Every eye is trained on us, and my steps falter as I consider giving this presentation to everyone here. An electric anticipation hovers in the air with an intensity that is almost palpable. The murmurs of conversations echo off the walls, bouncing around the room in a cacophony of sound. My nerves threaten to stage a full-scale revolt, but I clench my fists and raise my chin. We’ve got this.

The judges sit at a long table facing the audience, tablets and far too many scrolling screens in front of them. Professor Nishimura takes her seat at the center, typing something with brows furrowed in concentration.

Please like our design, I silently pray. Please get what we’re trying to do here.

Kaito heads off to set up our presentation materials while I take my spot at the lecture podium. No escaping now. The butterflies in my stomach have morphed into rampaging giant moths desperate to break free, but I refuse to give in to panic.

I belong here. I know it in my bones, my heart, my soul. After everything I’ve sacrificed, all the technical challenges we overcame through sheer stubbornness, they have to see it.

Kaito has been a brilliant partner, but this was one-hundred percent my idea and I need to own it, right here and now. When he nods at me from across the room at the judge’s table, I know he agrees. His job was to mentor me, and he did a great job.

I still want to jump him and take him to bed, but that will have to wait till later.

Riku glares at me from the door right before it shuts on his arrogant face. He’s clearly livid I didn’t wither under his attempt at intimidation, and I don’t care.

Sucks to be you, buddy. The future is ours, ready or not.

I open my tablet to my presentation, review my notes, and observe the people in the crowd with a mix of curiosity and competition. It looks like there’s someone here from almost every I.A. department. Damn. I didn’t realize how many people would be present. What marvels of spaceship design lie within those exceptional and complicated minds? What unseen obstacles did they navigate to make their visions real? I wonder if any share our dream of modularity and infinite adaptability.

Now it’s time to change the world.

My heart leaps into my throat as Professor Nishimura stands, the piercing feedback of the microphone grabbing everyone’s attention. Here we go.

“Welcome Tilli and Kaito, and thank you all for continuing to be here. This is our last presentation, and then we’ll break for the day and reconvene tomorrow to discuss the results. As always, we have a bold new generation of spaceship designers in our midst, ready to share visions that will shape humanity’s future among the stars.”

She smiles, gesturing to the assembled crowd. “I know from the progress reports Mr. Nakamura submitted that our finalist here has poured her heart and soul into this presentation, so please give Miss Kimura your full attention and consideration.”

She inclines her head to me, voice ringing with conviction. “The floor is yours. Inspire us. The future awaits!”

I clear my throat and nod, determination overriding my nerves. This is it.

“Good afternoon. My name is Tilli Kimura, and my mentor for this project was Kaito Nakamura. We’re here to present the Mizuho system — an endlessly adaptable modular design that will revolutionize spacecraft.”

The opening slide displays a rendering of our sleek spaceship interior design, consisting of multiple docked modules. “The Mizuho system reimagines how we live and work in space. Through interchangeable modules that can be reconfigured and repurposed as needed, this design maximizes efficiency and optimizes habitability for long-duration space travel.”

Once I get started, my confidence seems to kick in. I can’t see the crowd — they’re in the dark and I have a light shining on me — and that makes it easier to pretend it’s only Kaito and me here. We practiced this a dozen times yesterday and this morning. I just need to stay on task.

I walk through the specifics of our modular design, gesturing to the slides of models, engineering details, infrastructure schematics, and simulations demonstrating its feasibility. A few murmurs creep into the silence as I describe the universal docking mechanisms and pre-integrated plumbing and wiring that allow each module to serve many functions.

Raising my voice over the mounting whispers, I continue, “A module launched as living quarters could later be repurposed as a laboratory by swapping in different fixtures and components. Corridors and common areas would remain flexible, shaped by the needs of the mission and crew. Spaces can be expanded or partitioned off as needed, with hatches and passageways resealing to minimize wasted volume.”

People are talking. They must love it!

My confidence builds as I elaborate on the possibilities, this design we poured our hearts into for a future among the stars.

“With the Mizuho system, we imagine spaceships that remain adaptable throughout their entire operational lifetimes, able to transform to meet unforeseen challenges and opportunities.”

But then, murmuring reaches a crescendo as it ripples through the audience, distracting me as heads start to turn. The judges, so attentive moments before, now seem focused on their devices rather than our vision brought to life on the screens behind me.

Confused, I raise my voice and rush to advance the slides, but the damage is done. The Mizuho system fades into obscurity, eclipsed by something unknown that has stolen their interest when we needed it most.

Kaito locks eyes with me, dismay written across his face.

Professor Nishimura stands abruptly, waving Kaito over with a frown. My heart sinks as she approaches the podium. Something is very wrong.

“Tilli, what is the meaning of this?” She demands in a low voice meant only for us. “How could you claim this design as your own?”

My whole body erupts in goosebumps, and my head starts to sweat as I flash back to the time I was accused of cheating on the entrance exams eight years ago.

The panic and shock come rushing back, dreams shattered once more over circumstances beyond my control. My chest tightens, breaths coming short and fast as that day plays through my mind in vivid detail. The stern administrators, the cold disbelief in their eyes. Pleading my case to uncaring ears while fighting back tears of anger and heartbreak. The future I’d sacrificed everything for, dismissed without a thought over baseless accusations I could never overcome.

It took years of failure and then more years of flawless work to finally overcome the black mark on my record from that false charge of cheating. To rebuild trust and gain a chance at the future they had denied me for so long. All that struggle, all that perseverance, brought me here at last…

I stare at Nishimura in confusion. “Professor, I don’t understand. Kaito and I have been developing the Mizuho system together. Every component is our own work.”

Her eyes narrow, disbelief etched across her features. “Hiroko presented this same modular spaceship design not moments ago. The docking mechanisms, reconfigurable modules, all of it. How do you explain that?”

My mind reels in shock. Hiroko designed something so similar? But how? We spent every spare moment immersed in perfecting the Mizuho. There’s no way…

“Professor, please, I swear we didn’t steal this design,” I insist, heart pounding in my chest. “I built this from the ground up. Kaito witnessed it all. We have sketches, prototypes, and research to prove that.”

Beside me, Kaito nods in emphatic agreement. “We never had access to Hiroko’s work. The Mizuho system is entirely our own.” He waves at me. “Well, her own. I saw the moment when she got the idea.”

She studies us for a long, tense minute, disappointment and anger warring across her face. “I want to believe you. But the similarities are too striking to ignore. How do you account for that if not through plagiarism? This is not the first time you’ve been accused of cheating.”

There it is. Cheater, plagiarist, thief. This is what they think of me.

The audience is getting restless now, tablets and computers dinging with incoming alerts. Someone in the front row has their tablet raised and is recording everything.

“Coincidence, perhaps. Parallel thinking.” I grasp for any explanation to make her believe we didn’t betray her trust. “Great minds thinking alike?”

Professor Nishimura sighs heavily, shaking her head. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough. I cannot in good conscience pass off so striking a resemblance as mere happenstance, especially with your previous history.”

No. No, this cannot be happening.

The same sick feeling of helplessness and injustice from years ago threatens to drag me under, opening wounds I thought long healed. Why is this happening? What cosmic force keeps stepping in my path, judging me for crimes I didn’t commit and stopping me from chasing the only dream I’ve ever known?

Once was a tragedy. Twice is cruelty. And I fear this time, there may be no coming back from the ruins left behind.

My throat tightens, eyes burning. “You have to believe us. We would never steal someone else’s work.”

“Is this true, Mr. Nakamura?” Professor Nishimura asks Kaito. “With your history here…”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “There’s no foul play,” he says, assuring her. “At least, not on Tilli’s part.”

History? What history?

“I’m sorry, Tilli.” She turns away, signaling an end to the discussion. “We’re done here today. I need time to determine the appropriate next steps.”

She walks off without another word, taking with her my future and any hope of defending myself. The Mizuho system disappears into obscurity, its origin left in question. For crying out loud, what the hell just happened?

I look at Kaito and his eyes meet mine. He looks as confused as I am. We stand in stunned silence. The dream didn’t just die — it was murdered before our eyes. Everything we sacrificed might as well have never been.

All that’s left is trying in vain to piece together how this happened. But the future remains lost, far from reach.

I am so screwed.