The following days were a blur of tension, confusion, and overwhelming emotions. Kenn couldn't remember the last time he felt at ease. Everywhere he turned, it felt like the world was watching him, judging him. The bracelet on his wrist, which had once seemed like an insignificant piece of jewelry, had now become an inescapable anchor. Every time he tried to ignore it, it tugged at him, pulling his focus back to the emotions of those around him. The voices, the feelings, the whispers—it was all a constant hum in the back of his mind.
Lynn noticed it, of course. She had become increasingly concerned, her gaze following him more carefully, her words laced with worry whenever she spoke to him. But despite her kindness, despite the genuine affection she showed him, Kenn couldn't bring himself to fully open up. How could he? How could he explain to her that he could hear everything? That he felt the weight of every person's emotions crushing him from every direction?
He couldn't. And so, he kept the truth locked away, hidden beneath layers of forced smiles and hollow words.
It was after another long, suffocating day at school that Kenn found himself wandering the empty halls. The school was quiet now, the halls nearly deserted. It was the perfect time for him to think, to escape, to breathe.
But as he rounded the corner, he froze.
Yaoi stood there, waiting. Her presence filled the space, making the air feel thick with a strange, oppressive energy. Her eyes locked onto his, an unreadable expression on her face. There was something different about her today—something darker.
"Why do you keep running from me, Kenn?" Yaoi asked, her voice soft, but there was an undeniable edge to it. Her words were a dangerous lullaby, tugging at him in ways he didn't understand.
"I'm not running from you," Kenn said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just—I can't—this isn't right, Yaoi. You can't keep doing this."
Her lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't warm. It was twisted, as though she enjoyed the struggle in his voice, the desperation. She took a step closer, her eyes darkening. "You think I don't know what you feel?" she murmured. "I feel it too. Every moment. Every thought. Every hesitation. You can't hide from me, Kenn. Not anymore."
Kenn took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. How was it possible? How could she know what he was feeling?
He tried to keep his distance, to maintain control over the situation, but the pull of her emotions was overwhelming. Her obsession was like a force field, wrapping around him, making it impossible to think clearly. He could hear her thoughts—loud, chaotic, desperate—and it made him feel trapped, suffocated by the weight of them.
"I never wanted this," Kenn said, his voice trembling despite himself. "I never asked for this power. I don't want to be part of this... whatever this is between us."
Yaoi's smile faltered for a split second, a flash of something dangerous crossing her features. "You don't have a choice, Kenn. You never did." Her voice lowered to a whisper, and there was something venomous in her tone. "We're connected now. And no matter how far you try to run, you'll never escape me."
Before Kenn could respond, Yaoi took another step forward, her fingers brushing his arm. The contact sent a shock through him, and for a brief moment, he could feel her emotions—like a flood of darkness crashing into him.
It was suffocating. Overpowering. And, strangely, it felt like it was consuming him from the inside out.
Kenn jerked away, his breath coming in sharp gasps. His body felt weak, his legs unsteady. He looked at Yaoi, who was now watching him with an almost predatory gleam in her eyes.
"You're mine, Kenn," she whispered, her voice chilling in its intensity. "You'll always be mine."
Kenn stumbled backward, his heart racing, his mind spinning. The emotions, her feelings, they were too much to bear. He needed to get out. He needed to escape.
But when he turned, he froze.
Lynn stood at the far end of the hallway, her expression unreadable as she watched the scene unfold. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and Kenn could see the hurt—so much hurt—in the way she looked at him. The weight of her emotions hit him immediately, and it felt like a physical blow to his chest.
She had seen. She had seen everything.
Lynn's gaze flicked between him and Yaoi, and for a moment, everything stood still. The silence between them stretched on, thick with unspoken words. Kenn felt his heart drop to his stomach. He wanted to explain, to tell her that this wasn't what it looked like, but he couldn't find the words.
Finally, Lynn spoke, her voice low and quiet. "I... I didn't know it was like this."
Kenn's stomach twisted. He could feel the confusion, the hurt, the betrayal in her words, and it tore at him. But there was no way to explain. How could he tell her the truth without dragging her into this mess? The emotions—the chaos of it all—would only hurt her, and he couldn't bear the thought of that.
"Lynn, please..." he started, but his voice faltered.
Lynn shook her head slowly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I need some time, Kenn." She turned, her back to him as she walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Kenn stood there, frozen. He could feel the weight of her emotions pulling him in, and it nearly shattered him. The betrayal, the confusion—it was all there, raw and exposed. But there was nothing he could do. He had failed.
His head was spinning, and he could feel the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing against him. Yaoi's obsession, Lynn's hurt, the endless tide of everyone else's feelings—it was all too much.
And then, as if on cue, the bracelet pulsed against his wrist again, and the voice spoke once more.
"You have failed the quest. Consequences will be administered."
Kenn's heart stopped. He had no idea what that meant, but the fear that rushed through him was instant. What kind of consequences? What kind of power was the system wielding over him?
He didn't have time to think about it. He needed to get out of there, to clear his mind. But as he turned to leave, a new weight settled on his chest—the realization that everything he had done, everything he had tried to hide, had just been exposed.
And there was no turning back now.