Aoi – Her Room, Late Evening
The soft rustle of notebook paper filled the room, interrupted only by the quiet hum of her pencil scratching along the margins. The light above her desk flickered slightly—it always did when the house heater clicked on—but she ignored it. Familiar things weren't worth noticing anymore.
She flipped a page in her physics workbook, sighing quietly.
[Focus Level: 81%]
[Mental Fatigue: Low / Tolerable]
[Pulse: Stable]
[Emotional Drift: +0.2° (Distracted)]
"Not now," Aoi murmured, not looking at the overlay that flickered gently in the corner of her sight.
[System Whisper: "Thinking about someone?"]
[Suggested Action: Deny]
She rolled her eyes. "You're annoying tonight."
[Noted.]
[Toning down sarcasm response rate by 12%. You're welcome.]
Her lips twitched, but she didn't smile. Not really.
She stared at the circuit diagram in front of her, her pencil hovering near the capacitor symbol. But her thoughts weren't on electricity. Or resistance.
They drifted.
Back to the courtyard. The sakura tree. The boy with the tired eyes who kept looking at her like he was hoping to understand something invisible.
[System Reading: Emotional Layer Fluctuation]
[Tagged Topic: Kirigami, Naoya]
[Private Note: You didn't look away either.]
[Suggested Action: Refocus on Homework]
"I am focusing," she muttered.
[Lying Detected]
Her system flickered quietly beside her temple. Usually silver-white, it pulsed faintly pink for a breath — soft and warm — before fading back.
[System Note: You're blushing.]
She pressed her palm against her cheek. It was warm.
"No I'm not"
[False Statement Detected.]
[Color Sync: Subdermal Response Matching – 87% Accuracy]
[Would you like to reroute attention to actual equations instead of his face? Y/N]
She calmed herself down
She swatted at the air, like batting away a bug.
"You're not funny."
[System Humor Module: Optional]
[But effective.]
[Mood Stabilization: +3%]
Aoi leaned back in her chair, letting the pencil fall onto the table. The silence returned briefly, stretching.
"...His system's different," she murmured. "He doesn't even know what it's doing to him."
[Observation: He's trying to know.]
[Still overwhelmed.]
[Also: He stared for 4.3 seconds longer than socially acceptable.]
"I know."
[System Note: You didn't mind.]
She closed her eyes.
"It's not that simple. He's—"
[Complicated? Fractured? Curious?]
[Or… just alone.]
Aoi opened her eyes and looked at the wall. Not the system window. Just the pale blue shadows cast by the streetlight outside.
"...He asked about my system. I didn't lie. But I didn't tell everything either."
[You never do.]
[That's why you still use private notes instead of spoken ones.]
The sarcasm was softer now. Almost warm. If lines of glowing code could feel like a friend.
[He doesn't know what kind you are yet.]
[Would you like him to?]
[Y/N]
She didn't answer. Just pulled her workbook back toward her and flipped to the next page.
[System Whisper: "You're writing formulas, but your thoughts aren't numbers tonight."]
Aoi ignored it.
But she didn't deny it.
Naoya – Apartment in the Suburbs
His desk was chaos. Wires tangled like nerves. A half-fused board lay cracked open under the dim light of a cheap desk lamp. The smell of burnt flux still lingered from earlier, but now the soldering iron sat cold.
He hadn't touched anything in a while.
Instead, he stared into the pale blue flicker hovering at the edge of his vision. The interface. Silent. Watching.
Always watching.
[Status: OBSERVING]
[Environment: Neutral / Contained]
[Linked Users: NONE]
[Diagnostic Suggestion: Circuit Node Inactive – Reconnect Required]
He exhaled slowly. His voice was low, tired.
"...What is this?"
No answer.
"Why did it start after the lightning?"
[Query Received]
[Response: UNAVAILABLE]
[Permission Level: INSUFFICIENT]
His fingers tapped the desk, knuckles tight. He was used to the silence. But now it felt personal.
"Why can't I control anything? Why does she get something else—something that listens?"
No flicker.
He leaned forward, voice sharper now.
"Is this an experiment?"
[Query Flagged]
[System Analysis: Active Curiosity Detected]
[Suggested Action: IGNORE / WAIT]
"Stop giving me suggestions like I'm a broken app," he muttered. "Just tell me. What is she?"
There.
Just for a second.
The screen glitched.
A single frame—too quick to read—flashed across the top of his HUD.
A faint word. No, a line of something. But before he could focus—
It was gone.
Replaced.
[External System Detected: USER AOI]
[System Type: UNREGISTERED VARIANT]
[Cross-Access: DENIED]
He blinked. Hard.
"You changed it," he said. "What was that? What did I just see?"
[Query: Invalid]
[Redacted by System Protocol 6.3]
"Protocol six-point—" He stood up suddenly. "You're hiding things now?"
Nothing.
He paced a step, then sat again, exhaling out through his nose.
The memory floated in—Aoi under the sakura tree, legs folded, shadows crawling across her book, saying things like she'd done this longer. Her voice clear but faraway. Her system reading her emotions out loud like it knew her heart better than she did.
It made him feel exposed. Unbalanced.
He shook his head.
"Tell me what I'm supposed to do."
[Role: THE OBSERVER]
[User Directive: Undefined]
[Your Task: ———]
Blank.
[Your Task: ———]
"You're not even trying anymore."
Then a flicker.
Silver-white.
Not from his system.
A second screen began to take shape in his peripheral view—clean edges, soft pulsing white text.
[Incoming Message: USER AOI]
[Accept? Y/N]
He stared.
And for once, his own system didn't interrupt.
Didn't warn.
Didn't suggest.
Just waited.