The silence between Kenn and Yaoi stretched on, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind. The night had fallen, and the air was cool, carrying with it a faint scent of autumn leaves. Yaoi was still sitting there, her posture hunched in a way that made her seem smaller, more vulnerable. Her eyes, once full of obsession and intensity, now seemed vacant, empty.
Kenn sat beside her, unsure of what to say next. The words he'd prepared seemed so inadequate now, like fragile threads that would snap under the weight of her despair.
"Yaoi..." he began, his voice quieter than he'd intended. "I don't know if I can fix everything. I don't even know if I can fix myself. But you don't have to be alone in this."
Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Alone? You think you're the first one to offer me that? Everyone says that, but no one really means it. No one really understands." She shook her head, her lips curling into a bitter smile. "The system was the only thing that ever understood me. It was my guide, my purpose. Without it…"
Kenn felt a pang of sympathy, mixed with an ache he couldn't quite place. "I get it," he said, his voice steady despite the knot in his chest. "I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong, to feel like you're nothing without something else to define you. But the system wasn't real, Yaoi. It controlled you. It used your pain and made you believe it was the only way. But you're more than that. You always were."
Yaoi let out a hollow laugh, her eyes still not meeting his. "You don't understand. I never asked for this. I never asked for any of it. I just wanted... something to matter. I wanted to be seen. I wanted to be important." She finally turned her gaze to him, her eyes wide with a mix of sadness and anger. "And you—" She paused, clenching her fists in her lap. "You were always the one who mattered. You were the one everyone cared about. You had Lynn, Kil... everyone. And I... I had nothing. Nothing except that stupid scanner."
Kenn's heart sank, but he refused to look away. "Yaoi, it wasn't about me. I didn't have everything. Not really. The scanner, the system—it was just a way for the world to control me too. We were both trapped by it. But you have to see, you're not defined by that. You're more than the things that happened to you."
Yaoi shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke again. "I don't know who I am without it." Her voice cracked. "What's left of me? Without the system, without... you..."
Kenn's throat tightened at her words, and for the first time, he realized just how deep her obsession ran. She hadn't just clung to the system because it gave her power—it had become her identity, the very thing that kept her alive in a world that felt cold and indifferent. She had woven herself into the fabric of something that never cared about her.
"I'm sorry," Kenn whispered, his voice gentle now, filled with regret. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I didn't know how to handle it. I never asked for any of this, either."
Yaoi looked at him again, her eyes filled with a raw, open pain that was almost too much to bear. "You never had to. But I did. And now I'm nothing. I don't know who I am anymore, and I can't go back to the way I was."
Kenn placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, feeling the tremor beneath his touch. "I'm not asking you to go back, Yaoi. I'm asking you to move forward. To try, even if it feels impossible. You don't have to be alone anymore."
For a long time, she didn't respond. Then, in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper, Yaoi spoke again. "What if I can't?"
Kenn shook his head. "What if you can?"
***
The following days were a blur of emotion for Kenn. He spent more time thinking about Yaoi and her words than he would have liked to admit. Helping her, reaching her—it felt like an impossible task. He knew that her recovery, if it could even be called that, would take time. The weight of the system's manipulation had left deep scars on her, scars that wouldn't just heal with a few kind words or a promise to stay by her side.
But for the first time in his life, Kenn felt like he had the power to help. To truly make a difference.
***
Lynn had noticed the shift in him. She had noticed the way he spent more time thinking, the way his gaze had become distant when they talked about the future. At first, she hadn't pushed him. She knew, better than anyone, that healing was a slow and often painful process. But as the days passed, Lynn grew more concerned, her instinct telling her that Kenn was carrying more than he was letting on.
One afternoon, as they sat together on the bench by the park, she watched him closely. His gaze was focused on the ground, his brow furrowed in thought, as though he were grappling with some internal struggle.
"Kenn," she said softly, breaking the silence between them. "What's really going on? I know you're thinking about Yaoi. You've been quiet lately."
Kenn hesitated before meeting her gaze. Her eyes were full of understanding, and he knew she wasn't going to let him hide behind his silence.
"I'm trying to help her," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I can't just leave her like that. She's been through so much, and I—" He stopped, struggling to find the right words. "I feel like I'm the only one who can reach her."
Lynn's expression softened, but there was a quiet concern in her eyes. "Kenn, I understand that you want to help, but you can't save everyone. Especially not her."
"I know," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "But I can't just walk away from her. She needs something… someone. And I think, deep down, she wants to change. She's not evil, Lynn. She's just... lost."
Lynn reached out, placing a gentle hand on his. "You're not wrong for wanting to help her, but you can't carry her burden forever. You have to let her find her own way, just like you had to."
Kenn nodded slowly, absorbing her words. He knew she was right, but there was a part of him that couldn't let go. He didn't know how to give up on her. It felt like abandoning someone who had never had a chance in the first place.
"I'll try to help her," Kenn said, more to himself than to Lynn. "But I'm not sure what that looks like yet."
Lynn smiled softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to have all the answers, Kenn. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you don't have to do it alone. You have me."
***
The days that followed were filled with quiet moments and subtle shifts. Kenn continued his attempts to reach out to Yaoi, though she was distant, resistant to his efforts. Each conversation felt like trying to break through an impenetrable wall, but Kenn didn't give up. Slowly, he began to see glimpses of the girl who had been buried beneath the system's control.
There were small victories—a brief smile, a softening in her eyes when he spoke of a future without the system's influence. But for every small step forward, it felt like there were two steps backward. Yaoi was still lost, still haunted by the wreckage of her obsession, and Kenn knew that healing, for her, was going to be a long and painful process.
But it was a process worth beginning.