Marc couldn't stop thinking about what Aria said the day before.
"I was supposed to be deleted."
Those words replayed in his head through every class, every lunch break, every second of fake normalcy.
She didn't show up that morning, and when she finally did, she smiled like nothing happened.
Too easily.
Too perfectly.
The kind of smile that looked written.
Luca flopped onto the bench beside Marc, unwrapping a convenience-store sandwich.
"You've been quiet all day," Luca said. "What's up?"
Marc hesitated. "…Aria."
Luca's brow lifted. "Something happen?"
Marc looked around before answering. "She said she wasn't supposed to exist."
Luca blinked, chewing slowly. "Like—what?"
Marc leaned forward. "She said she was a route that got cut from the game. Like her story was deleted, but she stayed."
Luca frowned. "That sounds like—" He stopped himself. "Nah. You're serious?"
Marc nodded.
Luca sighed and looked at the sky. "Then that means the system knows. And it's probably trying to fix it."
Marc tensed. "Fix it how?"
"By putting her back where she's supposed to be."
Luca's tone dropped low. "Or removing her completely."
Neither spoke for a long moment.
Marc gritted his teeth. "I'm not letting that happen."
Luca gave a half smile. "Knew you'd say that."
That afternoon, the teacher announced a sudden project — "Group Assignments: Rewrite a Romantic Scene".
The whole class groaned.
But the groups?
They were conveniently assigned.
Marc → with Aria.
Luca → with Hana.
Ryo → with random classmates.
Aiden → with no one. He got "teacher's assistant" duty.
Marc stared at the paper. "You seeing this?"
Luca nodded, tapping the chart. "Another event flag."
Marc looked across the room. Aria was staring down at her desk, hands tightly folded.
Even she knew this wasn't random.
Marc caught up to Aria before she could leave.
"You okay?"
She looked at him like she wanted to answer, but something made her stop.
Her eyes flicked upward, as if listening to an invisible cue.
Then she smiled.
Perfectly.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Marc's stomach twisted. "That's not fine."
She blinked, the smile faltering for a second — the tiniest tear in the mask — before she whispered:
"It's harder to talk when the world is watching."
And she walked away.
Later that evening, Luca and Marc met at the dorm courtyard.
The sun was setting — warm, soft, too peaceful.
"Something's off," Luca muttered.
Marc nodded. "Aria said the world was watching. What does that even mean?"
Luca leaned back against the bench. "Means we're being pushed toward something. Every event, every setup — it's all part of some bigger script."
Marc rubbed his temples. "Then what happens when we break it?"
Luca smirked. "We find out."
Marc snorted. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Luca said, "but if the world's gonna test us, I'd rather fail loud than play along quiet."
Marc let out a quiet laugh. "You always talk like it's you against everything."
"It's us against everything," Luca corrected.
He lifted a hand — not for a fist bump this time, but a quick dap.
Marc met it instantly.
No words needed.
That night, Marc sat by the dorm window, staring at the city lights.
He replayed Aria's words again and again.
"It's harder to talk when the world is watching."
He didn't understand everything yet.
But he understood this:
Something was pulling strings behind them.
Something wanted Aria to fade.
And if she was truly a broken route, then maybe…
she was the key to breaking out of this entire world.
He didn't know what tomorrow would bring — but for once, he hoped it wasn't too perfect.