Blake's breath locked in his throat.
The classroom felt suddenly airless, the chatter of students outside opening and closing their lockers fading into a distant hum. The system window flickered faintly in front of him, red warning text still glowing.
[ Dear Host, do not let Myles Cortez become aware of the System. ]
Myles' eyes lingered on that blank air for a second too long.
He wasn't confused or distracted.
He was focused.
Blake's fingers trembled under his desk.
'He can't see it. He can't. He shouldn't be able to, anyway. Calm down.'
The system had never mentioned the possibility.
It had never mentioned risks like this.
Myles' gaze shifted slowly downward until it met Blake's.
"You're staring again," he said.
His voice was quiet enough that the surrounding noise swallowed it instantly.
Blake swallowed.
"I..."
Myles' eyes moved once more, subtly flicking back to the empty air in front of Blake's face.
Then back to him.
"You should be careful," he added.
The words were simple.
But the weight behind them wasn't.
'Careful of what? Of staring? Of him? Of something else? Why can't you be specific? This is such a classic threat!'
"Careful of what?" he finally managed to force out.
Myles didn't answer immediately. His gaze traced Blake's face like he was memorizing something.
"Of paying attention to something that's not there."
Blake's blood ran cold.
Something that's not there.
The system window glitched violently.
[ Warning: Elevated target awareness. ]
Blake jerked his head slightly, breaking the alignment between Myles' line of sight and the floating screen.
Students began filing into the hallway in waves. The teacher was already gone. The moment stretched too long, too exposed.
Myles finally stepped back.
His expression remained neutral. Unreadable.
Then he turned and walked out.
Like nothing had happened.
Blake didn't move for several seconds.
His body felt like it had been submerged in freezing water. Slow. Numb.
"What does that mean?" he whispered.
The system flickered again.
[ Clarification unavailable. ]
'That's not helpful!'
He grabbed his bag and rushed into the hallway.
'Let's think about the reward later!'
The corridor was chaos.
Lockers slamming. Shoes squeaking against polished floors. Laughter bouncing off the walls.
And somewhere in that noise, there was Myles.
Blake's eyes scanned instinctively.
There.
Halfway down the hall. Walking alone.
No one brushed against him. Not deliberately. The flow of students seemed to part naturally, unconsciously adjusting their paths to avoid collision.
He wasn't intimidating or glaring. He wasn't even looking at anyone to begin with.
But there was space around him.
Like an invisible perimeter.
'That's the final boss for you...' Blake hesitated.
[ Reminder: Maintain interaction frequency to prevent favorability decay. ]
"Decay?" he hissed under his breath.
[ Prolonged inactivity may result in negative adjustment, Dear Host. ]
'This system is fucking insane…'
Time passed, and he was ignored.
Actually, that was until lunch break.
That meant at least thirty minutes of unsupervised social territory.
In his previous life, he had such a fun time away from the teachers, but now it was the opposite.
Blake forced his legs to move.
Too fast and he'd look desperate.
Too slow and he'd lose him.
He trailed several meters behind, trying to appear accidental.
Which was hard when you were following the same person who had just warned you about something that's not there.
His thoughts spiraled.
'I wonder, does he think I'm crazy? That I hallucinated? Or worse... is he already figuring me out?'
Blake wasn't the original owner of this body.
What if Myles noticed changes?
Posture.
Tone.
Eye contact patterns.
A guy like that, obsessed with looking normal to avoid any suspicion, would notice any change around him.
'But they weren't close,' Blake reminded himself. 'But that doesn't really matter... he originally had a -10 favorability for Blake. That means he must know something about him to harbor such dislike.'
The hallway opened into the cafeteria.
The noise level doubled instantly.
Metal trays clattered. Conversations overlapped. The smell of fried food and synthetic seasoning hung heavy in the air.
Myles moved through the line.
Blake joined the line three people behind him.
He could see the back of Myles' neck.
The line of his shoulders.
He sure looked relaxed, like someone who had complete control of his environment.
Blake's stomach twisted.
'He's just a student.'
A student who would eventually destroy the world.
Suddenly, the cafeteria didn't feel like a cafeteria anymore.
It felt like a place filled with unaware casualties.
People laughing.
Arguing over seats.
Filming short clips for social media.
None of them knowing the boy holding a tray near the front of the line would one day be their executioner.
Blake swallowed hard.
'And I'm supposed to make him fall in love with me.'
The absurdity almost made him laugh.
Myles picked up his tray and turned. Their eyes met again.
Blake flinched internally but didn't look away. He couldn't afford to look afraid.
Yet his heart jumped into his throat the moment Myles' eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly.
Then he walked past him.
Blake grabbed whatever food was closest without looking and promised to pay the next day.
He scanned the cafeteria.
Myles had chosen a table near the windows.
Alone.
Of course, alone.
'Fortunately or, unfortunately, he's not like that because he was ever isolated. I remember that he preferred it that way.'
There was a big difference indeed.
'Should I sit with him? Eh, I mean, that'd be dangerous after the conversation we had earlier...'
Blake hesitated for a full ten seconds before finally walking over.
Each step felt louder than it should have.
A few students noticed, of course.
The boy who publicly confessed and then stared for an hour? Walking straight to the target again? What a brave social suicide.
He stopped at the table.
Myles didn't look up.
Blake tightened his grip on his tray.
"Can I sit here?"
Myles' fork paused midair and, slowly, he lifted his eyes.
The cafeteria noise seemed to dip.
Not actually.
But in Blake's perception.
"You don't seem concerned with permission," Myles said calmly.
Blake flushed. "…I'm asking now."
A beat.
Myles studied him long enough to make him uncomfortable.
"Do whatever you want."
Blake exhaled quietly and lowered himself into the chair opposite him.
Up close, Myles' presence felt different from across a classroom.
Blake picked at his food, too acutely aware of the distance between them.
The system window floated at the edge of his vision.
[ Interaction ongoing. ]
He ignored it.
Silence stretched.
Fork against tray.
Murmurs from other tables.
Finally, Myles spoke. "Why are you acting like you're new here?"
Blake blinked.
"Huh?"
"You're behaving like someone who doesn't understand the environment."
Blake's pulse spiked. "I just… don't care what people think anymore," he carefully said.
Myles' gaze flicked toward a nearby table where two students were blatantly pretending not to watch them.
"You should."
Blake frowned slightly. "Well, you don't."
Myles' expression didn't change. "You don't know that."
'Actually, I do know that you very much care, but it's not out of embarrassment or anything, you just want to seem normal and not like a world-class criminal...'
Blake was a little distressed that Myles wasn't reacting emotionally to him, that he was simply gathering information.
Every question.
Every response.
Filed away.
Blake's fork paused halfway to his mouth.
"…Are you uncomfortable?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"With what?"
"With me."
...
'Couldn't have asked that any more stupidly.'
But he needed to know.
Because -11 could easily become -20.
Myles leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Not really, but you're drawing attention," he said.
"Is that bad?"
Myles held his gaze steadily.
"That depends on your intentions."
Blake felt the weight of it press against his ribs.
Intentions.
What were his intentions?
To survive?
To manipulate?
To seduce?
The system screen flickered faintly.
[ Emotional fluctuation detected. ]
Blake ignored it.
"I told you already," he said quietly. "I like you."
The cafeteria noise seemed louder now.
Myles simply observed Blake's face.
"Then be consistent."
Blake blinked.
"…What?"
"If you're going to look at me," Myles continued evenly, "don't look like you're waiting for something to happen."
Blake's stomach dropped.
The system window hovered just within his peripheral vision.
"Don't get distracted." Myles picked up his tray and stood up. "You should decide what you're seeking."
And then he walked away.
Leaving Blake sitting there.
Frozen.
The cafeteria noise returned in full force.
Blake's hands were shaking.
"What does that even mean…" he whispered.
The system screen pulsed.
[ Warning: Target perceptiveness exceeds projected model. ]
Projected model?
Blake's stomach twisted.
"What model?"
The screen flickered violently.
Static crawling across its surface.
[ Data inconsistency detected. ]
Blake's heart began to race again.
Across the cafeteria—
Myles stopped mid-step.
He didn't turn around.
But he paused.
As if listening.
The system screen glitched harder.
Red text bleeding through.
[ Critical Error: Observation Loop Established. ]
Blake's vision swam. 'Observation loop…?'
The screen froze.
[ Alert: Target may be observing Host beyond expected parameters. ]
Myles slowly turned his head.
Not toward Blake.
Not fully.
Just enough that his profile was visible and, for the first time, Blake felt it.
He was looking at him like a hunter who had finally noticed movement in the grass.
The system text flickered one last time.
[ Recommendation: Reduce visible reliance on interface immediately. ]
And then, the screen went black.
Disappearing completely.
Blake's breath hitched. "…Spoon?"
No response.
Across the room, Myles' gaze lifted.
And this time, he was looking directly at him, with nothing in between.