The school day ended with a soft orange glow spreading across the sky.
Students filtered out slowly, laughing, chatting, living their normal VN lives.
But one person didn't leave normally.
Hana lingered.
She stood at the gate, gripping the strap of her bag tightly, staring down the path toward the old track behind the gym — the one she hadn't stepped on in over a year.
Her ankle brace was in her bag.
She kept touching it nervously.
"…Okay," she whispered. "Just go. Just look. You don't have to do anything."
She took a shaky breath and began walking.
The track was quiet.
Completely empty.
A few fallen leaves danced across its surface like ghosts of old memories.
Hana stepped onto it slowly.
One foot.
Then the other.
Her heart pounded harder the further she walked.
She stopped near the starting line — the same spot she used to stand on every day.
She crouched down and touched the faded white paint.
It felt like touching a piece of her past self.
Her throat tightened.
"I shouldn't have come," she whispered. "This was stupid…"
She stood up quickly, turning to leave—
"Hey."
Hana froze.
Luca stood a few feet behind her, holding a bag of snacks from the vending machine.
He looked just as shocked as she did.
"I wasn't following you," Luca said quickly. "I swear. I was grabbing food and— I saw you heading this way so I just… checked."
Hana looked down. "Figures. You show up everywhere."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"…It's not."
She stared at the track again, shoulders rising and falling.
"I thought maybe… I could try something today," she said quietly.
"But now I'm thinking it was dumb."
"It's not dumb," Luca said. "You're here. That's already big."
Hana bit her lip.
She didn't argue.
She took out her old ankle brace slowly, like it might break if she touched it wrong.
Luca watched quietly, giving her space.
"I haven't put this on in forever," she said, sitting on the bench and slipping off her shoe.
"Want help?" Luca asked.
"No," she said instantly—
but not out of annoyance.
Out of embarrassment.
She slipped the brace on, flexed her ankle gently, then stood.
"Okay… I'll just do one short run. Nothing crazy."
Luca nodded.
"I'm right here."
Hana took her stance at the starting line.
It wasn't perfect — she hesitated, unsure, tense.
Then she pushed off.
Her feet hit the track with quick, light steps.
Her form was rusty, but the spark was still there.
Halfway down the lane—
Her breath hitched.
Her steps faltered.
Her body remembered the fear.
She stopped abruptly, clutching her leg—not in pain, but in panic.
"No—no no no—" she gasped. "It's happening again— I can't— I can't—"
Luca ran to her.
"Hana, hey—look at me," he said softly.
She shook her head, breathing too fast.
"It's happening—just like last time— my leg— I—"
Luca took her shoulders gently, grounding her.
"It's not happening again," he said. "You're not hurt. You just got scared. Breathe with me."
He breathed in slowly.
Hana tried to match him — shaky but trying.
"Good," Luca said. "You're okay. It's okay to be scared."
Tears slipped down Hana's cheeks.
"…I hate this," she whispered. "I hate being weak."
"You're not weak," Luca said firmly. "You came back. That makes you stronger than anyone."
Hana stared at him, trembling.
And then she broke — quietly, not loudly.
Just a soft, aching cry that came from a place older than the injury itself.
Luca stayed with her until her breathing slowed.
"…Sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "I didn't mean to fall apart."
"You didn't fall apart," Luca said. "You faced something real."
Hana looked away, embarrassed.
"Tomorrow," she whispered. "Tomorrow… I want to try again."
Luca nodded.
"I'll be here."
From the top of the gym stairs, partially hidden behind the railing—
Ryo watched everything.
He scribbled rapidly:
Hana physical response: triggered memory trauma
Emotional intensity: extremely high
Luca influence: stabilizing → abnormal
Route deviation: significant
He tapped his pen.
"…What are you doing to this world?" he murmured.