The days that followed were a blur of disjointed moments, each one feeling more surreal than the last. Kenn barely remembered the classes, the passing conversations, or the lingering stares from his peers. Every part of him was consumed by the weight of what had happened—Yaoi's obsessive proclamation, Lynn's hurt and disbelief, and the ominous warning from the system.
He tried to focus on the one thing he could control: his interactions with others. But it was becoming increasingly difficult. The bracelet felt like it was suffocating him, each pulse reminding him of its power. It was a constant companion, pushing him to act, to feel things he didn't want to feel, to take actions he wasn't sure he even wanted to take.
That morning, Kenn sat in his usual spot by the window during lunch, watching the light shift across the courtyard. His gaze flickered over to where Lynn was sitting with a group of friends, her face distant and pale. She was laughing, but it didn't reach her eyes. The hurt he had seen in her eyes the other day was still there, even though she was trying to hide it behind her smile.
He couldn't blame her. He had failed her in the worst possible way.
Kenn's eyes shifted across the cafeteria to where Yaoi was sitting alone, her gaze fixated on him with a kind of hunger that made his skin crawl. She hadn't said anything to him since that day in the hallway, but her presence was suffocating, always just a little too close, always there in the background like a shadow. He could feel her eyes on him now, even though she was across the room. He could feel her obsession gnawing at the edges of his mind.
The bracelet pulsed again, a sharp, almost painful sensation that made Kenn flinch. System alert. The words appeared in his mind like a command. A quest had been issued.
"Quest Issued: Resolve the emotional conflict between Lynn and Yaoi. Failure will result in system consequences."
Kenn's heart raced. What does that even mean? The words from the system felt like a leash around his neck, forcing him into situations he didn't want to be in. He didn't want to get between Lynn and Yaoi. He didn't want to be the cause of any more pain. But the system wasn't giving him a choice.
He rubbed his wrist, the weight of the bracelet burning against his skin. The emotional scanner was still active, still pulling at him, reading the feelings of everyone around him, whether he wanted it to or not. He could feel the tension between Lynn and Yaoi even from a distance—the confusion, the jealousy, the silent rage from Yaoi, and the sadness and betrayal from Lynn. It was a toxic mix, and Kenn had no idea how to fix it.
His phone buzzed on the table in front of him. A message from Kil.
Kil: You okay? I've been seeing you looking like you're about to collapse all week. Want to meet after school?
Kenn stared at the message, his fingers hovering over the screen. Kil was one of the few people who didn't seem to notice the emotional turmoil Kenn was experiencing. Kil was just... Kil. His friend, his anchor. But even Kil couldn't understand what Kenn was going through. No one could.
Still, the idea of talking to someone who wasn't caught up in all of this—someone who didn't know about the system, who didn't know about Yaoi's obsession, who didn't see him as a walking emotional scanner—felt like a lifeline.
Kenn: Yeah. Let's meet after school.
As soon as he sent the message, he felt a strange shift in the air. The weight of someone's gaze was on him again. Kenn didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Yaoi was standing at the entrance of the cafeteria now, her eyes locked on him with a possessive intensity. She was smiling, but it was cold and calculating.
"Kenn," her voice sliced through the noise of the cafeteria like a blade. She had spoken so softly, yet her tone carried the weight of a command. He couldn't ignore her.
Kenn felt his chest tighten as the air around him seemed to thicken, the emotions of those nearby suddenly overwhelming. Yaoi's feelings were a cacophony in his head, dark and suffocating, filling the room with an almost palpable force. But underneath it, he could feel Lynn's quiet sadness, her longing for answers, and the barely contained hurt that threatened to spill over.
Yaoi moved closer, stepping between Kenn and his attempt to retreat. Her proximity, as always, felt oppressive.
"You're still avoiding me," Yaoi said, her voice low and honey-sweet. "I don't understand, Kenn. You can feel it, can't you? The pull between us. The way we're connected."
Kenn tried to steady his breath, willing his racing heart to calm. He didn't know what she meant by "connected," but whatever it was, it didn't feel healthy. It felt like a trap.
"I'm not avoiding you," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "But I can't keep doing this with you. I don't want to be part of this... obsession."
Yaoi's smile didn't falter, but the air around her seemed to crackle with a dangerous energy. Her gaze locked onto his, dark and intense, as though she were reading him—seeing right through him, into his soul.
"You don't have a choice," she whispered, her voice so soft, so intimate, that it felt like a secret only the two of them shared.
Kenn wanted to step back, wanted to push her away, but the weight of her emotions—their twisted connection—kept him frozen in place. His heart raced as the bracelet pulsed again, an unrelenting reminder that he was bound to the system.
And then, as if on cue, a voice interrupted them, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Kenn."
It was Lynn. Her voice was soft but firm, filled with a quiet strength that made Kenn's heart ache. She was standing by the entrance now, watching them with a guarded expression. He could feel the confusion and hurt rolling off her in waves, and it made him feel like he was drowning.
"I don't know what's going on here," Lynn continued, her voice steady despite the emotional storm he could sense within her, "but I need to understand. I don't want to be left in the dark anymore. What's happening to us, Kenn?"
Kenn's world seemed to shatter in that moment. The question hung in the air like an impossible weight, pressing down on him from all sides. How could he explain? How could he tell her the truth about the system, about Yaoi, about the emotions he could feel but could never control?
He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. He was drowning in emotions that weren't even his.
Yaoi's lips curved into a thin, cruel smile. "You see, Kenn? This is what happens when you try to resist."
And for the first time since he'd received the bracelet, Kenn truly felt it: The system was no longer just watching him. It was pulling the strings, twisting everything around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The walls were closing in, and Kenn was trapped in a game he couldn't escape.