It was getting easier to lie to himself.
To smile, nod, say "I'm okay," and move on. The world rewarded that kind of behavior. No one really wanted to hear the truth anyway.
But deep down, Ikaru Shinji knew the system was still working in the background. Not silently—just patiently.
It no longer needed his permission to activate.It was beginning to understand him.
System NotificationDaily Sync CompleteEmotional Suppression: StableAffinity Thread: Hoshizaki Yui – 16%Hope: 4New Trait Detected: Quiet YearningDescription: You long for connection, but fear what it might cost.
That Saturday, Ikaru found himself walking toward the park. Not by design. His feet just… took him there.
The cherry blossoms had begun to fade. Their petals littered the path like soft confetti from a festival long forgotten.
He sat on a bench, hands in his jacket pockets, head tilted back toward the overcast sky.
The system was quiet.
Not gone—just observant.
He liked it better that way.
"Thought I might find you here."
Her voice arrived before she did.
Yui Hoshizaki stood a few steps away, school uniform swapped for something simple—gray hoodie, dark jeans, hands buried in her sleeves.
She looked less like a classmate today and more like someone from a different life.
Ikaru didn't say anything. He just moved slightly, enough to make room beside him.
She took the seat.
They didn't speak for a long time.
The wind whispered instead.
"You still see it, right?" she asked eventually.
He blinked. "See what?"
"The system," she said. "The screen. The notifications. The stats. Whatever it is."
He turned toward her, heart thudding. "How do you know about that?"
Yui didn't answer. She just gave him a small, tired smile.
System Notification:Affinity SpikeRoute Thread Accelerated: Observer – 21%Trait Echo Detected: "System-Aware Entity"Possible Role: Stabilizer / Observer
Would you like to ask her directly?▸ Yes▫ No
He didn't need the prompt.
"You see it too," he said. Not a question. A quiet revelation.
Yui looked away. "I don't have a screen like yours. I don't level up. I don't get trait unlocks or quest logs. But I… sense it."
She hesitated.
"There are people in this world who carry too much pain. Some of them fold. Others fake it. And a few… develop mechanisms."
"Mechanisms," Ikaru repeated.
She nodded. "Your system is you, Ikaru. Or at least a version of you. A mental model trying to survive the weight of rejection, confusion, and loss. You're not crazy. You're coping. But you've also given that coping strategy a voice."
His heart raced.
System Conflict Detected.Internal Awareness Threatens Construct StabilityResult: Personality Divergence Risk – LOW
"…You're saying I built this?" he asked. "This whole system?"
"In a way," she replied. "Or maybe it built itself out of what you buried."
They sat in silence again. But this time, it wasn't peaceful.
It was loaded.
Heavy with the unspoken.
"I don't want to keep living like this," he said. "Watching everything through filters. Being told how I feel. Waiting for daily summaries like they're report cards for my own sadness."
Yui's voice was soft. "Then stop."
"I can't."
He looked at her—eyes raw, voice shaking.
"I don't know how to go back. I don't even know if there's a 'back' anymore."
Trait Unlocked: Fractured Identity Lv1Description: You've realized you are no longer just yourself—but also the version of you the system created.Effect: Empathic Link strain +2New Passive: Emotional Echo (You now feel residual emotions from linked characters.)
Yui placed a hand over his.
Not gently. Not romantically. Just… firmly.
Like an anchor.
"You don't need to go back," she whispered. "Just forward. One step. With someone."
He said nothing.
But he didn't pull away.
That night, Ikaru didn't receive a system update.
No damage report.
No hope points.
No route summary.
Just a single message blinking softly across his screen:
"Let someone walk beside you. Even if you think they'll leave."
System Reset Pending...Processing…