The night stretched long after the last bite of noodles was gone.
Outside, the Seoul skyline glittered like it was watching us — distant and alive.
Inside, everything was quiet except for the faint hum of traffic below and the sound of Soo-ah's soft breathing beside me.
She leaned back against the couch, legs tucked under her, staring at the city.
"It's beautiful," she murmured. "From here, it looks like everything's perfect."
"Yeah," I said, following her gaze. "But we both know it's not."
She smiled faintly. "You always ruin the magic, Rin."
"Someone has to keep things real."
"Maybe. But sometimes it's okay to just pretend."
She turned her head then — just slightly — and for the first time, I realized how close we were.
The glow from the window caught in her eyes, turning them soft amber.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
No words, no jokes, no system voice interrupting.
Just the quiet rhythm of two people who didn't need to say anything at all.
[Your pulse just jumped,] Nova whispered.
[Do I need to step out?]
I mentally shut her off before she could finish.
"I should probably go," Soo-ah said quietly, but she didn't move.
Her hand rested near mine on the couch, fingers almost touching.
I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
"Or," I said softly, "you could stay a few more minutes."
She looked at me, surprised — then smiled, that small, knowing smile that always made my chest tighten.
"You're getting bold."
"Maybe I learned from someone."
The silence that followed was fragile, almost electric.
When she leaned forward, it felt like gravity itself decided for us.
Her hair brushed my cheek; her breath was warm.
And then — the world stopped.
Our lips met, gently at first — hesitant, curious — like we were both afraid it would break something if we pushed too far.
But it didn't break anything.
It mended something instead.
The kind of kiss that doesn't ask for anything. It just says I'm here.
When we finally pulled away, Soo-ah's face was flushed, her eyes bright.
"I guess pretending isn't so bad," she whispered.
I laughed softly. "No. It's not."
[Emotional connection detected,] Nova whispered faintly, as if scared to interrupt.
[I approve.]
"Of course you do," I murmured under my breath.
Soo-ah tilted her head. "What?"
"Nothing," I said, smiling. "Just… happy."
We talked until the night blurred into dawn — about nothing and everything.
About dreams, about art, about how weird it was to fall for someone when your life felt like a movie.
When she finally left, I stood by the window long after the door closed, watching the city wake up.
For the first time since the System appeared, my life didn't feel infinite.
It felt human.
And that made it even more valuable.
The next morning, I woke to a dozen missed calls from investors — and one message from Soo-ah.
Good morning. Don't let the world eat you today.
I smiled. "I won't," I whispered.
Because now, I had a reason not to.