"You're just a selfish narcissist."
Cold silence washed over the living room.
Leah's jaw slackened. Ilya's expression only hardened.
Anathasia let out a low whistle as she watched.
[I like this girl. She's not pulling any punches.]
I glanced at her briefly, my expression flattening, before looking back at Vincent and the others, still frozen in place.
Leah gaped slightly.
She met Ilya's gaze, but no words came out at first. Her hands clenched at her sides, knuckles whitening.
Her jaw tightened before she finally spoke.
"Selfish… narcissist…?" she murmured, her eyes lowering. "Me?"
Across from her, Vincent said nothing. He simply looked away.
"I've been bottling this guilt for years…" she continued, her voice wavering. "And somehow… I'm the narcissist?"
She lifted her head again, eyes locking onto Ilya's.
"How would you understand how I feel?" she demanded. "You don't even know how much I wanted to fix things…"
Her voice rose as she spoke, one hand pressing against her chest.
"I bullied him, yes," she admitted. "But that was because I wanted him to care."
Her breath hitched.
"I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to see me."
Her words faltered, then spilled out all at once.
"I wanted him to love me… the way I loved him."
The living room fell silent.
Ilya stared at her, her expression hardening into something close to disgust. Vincent kept his gaze averted, his jaw tense.
And Anathasia—
[What…?]
She glanced at me sharply.
[What the fu—aren't you two cousins?]
I stiffened, then gave a small nod, still processing Leah's words myself.
[First cousins, actually… I didn't even know that's what she felt.]
Anathasia slowly shook her head, eyes returning to the scene in front of us.
[Something's wrong with these people…]
Just then, Ilya's voice cut through the room.
"You…" she started. "You're worse than I thought."
"A textbook manipulative narcissist—"
"Let's stop there."
I cut in before she could continue. All three of them turned toward me.
Vincent looked exhausted. Leah was still tearing up. Ilya leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, her glare fixed squarely on Leah.
"Why is this still an issue?" I continued, leaning forward slightly. "Like, what exactly are we doing here?"
"Ilya is fine," she replied curtly.
I nodded once.
"Like Ilya said," I went on, glancing at Vincent, then Leah, "the past should stay in the past."
"I don't really care about it anymore."
For a brief moment, I saw it—
a flicker of hope in Leah's eyes. Just a hint.
"Which is why," I continued evenly, "I'd prefer if everyone could just drop it. We're adults. Digging everything up again doesn't accomplish anything."
"Then—"
"Kyle's still talking," Anathasia cut in smoothly, without even looking at Leah.
She sat beside me, leaning back against the couch, legs crossed, hands resting neatly on her lap.
"Please don't interrupt until he's finished," she added, tilting her head slightly, a faint smile on her lips. "Okay?"
Leah's mouth snapped shut.
She'd been silent until now, a quiet observer. And judging by the way she stiffened, she clearly remembered how Anathasia had made one thing unmistakably clear months ago.
After a brief pause, I continued.
"So… yeah. That's all I'm saying."
"I was hoping everyone could just move on."
The light in Leah's eyes dimmed almost instantly.
Vincent gave a small nod in response. Across from him, Ilya's lips curved into a faint smirk, but I didn't bother reading into it.
Silence settled over the room.
Then Vincent lifted his head.
"That's true…" he muttered, casting Leah a brief glance.
From where I sat, I could see it. Leah's eyes searching his, almost pleading for him to take her side.
He didn't.
Instead, Vincent looked back at me and nodded again.
"It's all in the past…" His gaze dropped. "It really is."
"It definitely is," Ilya chimed in. "Even though everyone else told me you were the only one who actually treated Kyle well."
She glanced at Leah, unimpressed.
"I don't get why Vincent and I had to get dragged into her issue in the first place."
Her brow furrowed.
"Why do you even care about her?" she scoffed. "You even tried to stop me from giving her a reality check."
Then she turned to me.
"And you—Kyle, was it?" She tilted her head. "At the very least, you've got the spine to put her in her place."
[…She really doesn't pull any punches…]
Anathasia murmured in my head. Baffled, maybe even a little amused while remaining calm outwardly. Almost serene.
I sighed.
"Anyway… that's all," I said, glancing at Leah. "And please stop bringing up the past."
"Even if I never hated anyone for what happened, that doesn't mean I'm going to let people barge back into my life like nothing ever did."
I met her eyes.
"Let's make that clear."
No one spoke after that.
Leah's tears finally spilled over, her quiet sobs filling the room. But even then, no one moved. Vincent only looked down. Anathasia watched in silence.
[…That was… easier than I expected.]
I exhaled internally, tension slipping away.
[Yeah,] Anathasia replied. [Job well done.]
—
The afternoon passed like any normal one.
Well, except for the part where Leah called her parents to pick her up. Vincent and Ilya followed shortly after.
Ilya was Vincent's girlfriend apparently… I guess that's why she was pissed about everything.
But that was the least of my concern. We still had three more subjects left for midterms.
And now—
"Three more courses… and midterms can finally screw off!" Anathasia raised her hands over her head while sprawled on the couch.
"By the way," I cut in. "We never really got to give Leah that cake I wanted to use as a lure, did we?"
Anathasia glanced at me, then at the untouched tray on the table.
"Yeah… but that's none of our concern," she shrugged, sitting up before casually picking up a cookie.
"You dealt with her. That's what matters."
I leaned back, letting myself sink into the couch.
"That's fair," I said, stretching my arms over my head as I stared through the glass doors leading to the garden. "I can breathe easier now, at least."
"Took care of the past… and ended up with an extra cake while I was at it."
"Sounds like a win to me," Anathasia replied, nibbling on her cookie as she poured herself some tea.
"It's basically smooth sailing from now on."
She looked up, meeting my eyes.
"I think you deserve that much."
With a small nod, I lay back on the couch, letting out a soft breath as I stared at the ceiling.
"Tomorrow's the last day of midterms," I said. "We don't really have any requirements left to submit either. We already finished them weeks ago."
"There's still the sports festival from the end of September to early October," she said casually, swallowing her cookie.
"What're you planning on joining? I'm thinking about the hundred-meter dash or something."
…She's not going to twist the concept of distance, right?
"…You," her expression flattened. "You really think I'd stoop that low?"
"Well, no," I replied. "Though you do warp space just so you don't have to walk a mile or two."
"There's also that perception-manipulation thing."
Her face flattened further before she sank back into the couch across from me.
"I can," she said, "but where's the fun in that?"
I turned my head to look at her.
"You barely leave the house. You barely exercise. Aren't you just asking for sore muscles?"
She stiffened, her hand hovering over the tray.
"That's— I can just manipulate my physical body…?"
I sat up with a small sigh, squinting as I studied her.
"…What're you staring at?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah," I muttered. "You're pretty much done for if you pick the hundred-meter dash."
"…Why?" Her narrowed gaze shifted into confusion.
"Your muscles look stiff."
"…What?"