Ego Check: The Game That Changes Everything Rewrite

With Sable's identity revealed, the dynamic between her and Raxian had shifted in subtle but significant ways. Their camaraderie online had always been natural, built on the mutual respect and rivalry forged through countless matches. But now that he knew she wasn't just AkarisLite but a real, flesh-and-blood person attending the same school? It left Raxian restless.

There was something undeniably magnetic about her—how she seemed so untethered, coming and going as she pleased, both online and offline. Her unpredictability had always intrigued him, but it also left him feeling like he was chasing shadows. Did she even want to meet in person? She didn't strike him as someone who felt a need to conform or follow expectations.

Still, the thought lingered. If they got along so well online, wouldn't it be natural to hang out in real life, too? She must have been living somewhere nearby if they were attending the same school. Not meeting outside of the game felt... strange.

The idea of introducing her to his friend group crossed his mind more than once. Raze, especially, would probably be ecstatic to meet her, given how much they'd all bonded during Clash. But what about her? Did she have her own friend group? What did she even do during her free time?

Raxian's thoughts wandered back to their online interactions. Sable was still a mystery—a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together. She let him in just enough to feel close but always kept a part of herself out of reach. It was both frustrating and fascinating.

As summer break wrapped up and the start of school loomed, Raxian decided that if there was ever a time to bridge the gap between their online and offline worlds, it was now. The first few weeks of school would be the perfect opportunity to see where they stood.

He rehearsed how he might bring it up, trying not to overthink it. Maybe something casual, like, "Hey, Sable. Since we're both stuck in this city, why don't we grab some food after school?" Or, "Want to hit up the arcade? I owe you a proper match IRL."

But with Sable, nothing ever felt predictable. Raxian wasn't sure how she'd respond, but one thing was certain—he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip away.

Raxian wasn't usually the one to take the initiative. He was the type of guy who got roped into plans, the one who showed up because his friends expected him to—not because he'd set it in motion. So why, now of all times, was he the one making the effort?

It was uncharted territory for him. The thought of putting himself out there like this should have felt awkward or unnatural, but instead, it felt... necessary. Sable wasn't like anyone he'd known before. She didn't fit into the neat boxes that people at school seemed to fall into. She wasn't flashy or loud, didn't demand attention, yet somehow managed to capture it effortlessly. She existed on her own terms, and something about that intrigued him in a way he couldn't shake.

It wasn't just her skill in League, though that had initially drawn him in. It was the way she carried herself—cool, detached but not dismissive. It was the quiet confidence she exuded, like she knew exactly who she was and didn't need anyone's validation. And maybe, on some level, Raxian envied that.

But more than that, it was the way she made him feel. Their online matches had been exhilarating, her presence pushing him to think differently, play differently, be different. It wasn't just about getting better at the game—it was about becoming someone better, period.

And then there was the way she handled herself in real life, like the time they'd crossed paths during gym class or that brief, unexpected encounter under the bridge. She was the same person in both worlds: steady, self-assured, but never overbearing.

Raxian found himself wondering about her outside of their interactions. What was her life like beyond the game? What did she care about? What made her tick? He wanted to know—not just because he admired her but because there was something about her that made him feel alive. Like she saw something in him that others missed.

Suggesting a hangout wasn't something he'd normally do, and the idea made him nervous in a way he wasn't used to. But if there was one thing he'd learned from Sable, it was that some risks were worth taking.

The question now was, would she even say yes? Would she meet him halfway? Or would she keep him at arm's length, like she seemed to do with everyone else?

Whatever her answer, Raxian knew one thing for sure: Sable wasn't someone he could easily forget. And for once, he didn't want to.

For some unknown reason, Raxian's thoughts drifted back to Fayne. That rainy afternoon when he'd run into her, the memory had seemed fleeting at first, but now it lingered in his mind with an unexpected weight. The way she moved through the rain, her usually composed demeanor unraveling ever so slightly, had struck him as uncharacteristic. Fayne was the type to keep to herself, calm and collected, rarely letting her emotions show.

But it wasn't just her demeanor that stayed with him—it was the note. The one that had slipped from her pocket when she hadn't even noticed. He'd hesitated to pick it up at first, not wanting to pry, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. And then he'd seen it.

Sable's name.

It wasn't just scribbled there casually, either. It was deliberate, written in neat, purposeful handwriting, like it meant something. What was that all about?

Raxian leaned back against his chair, his thoughts swirling. How was Fayne connected to Sable? He'd never seen them interact, not in school, not online. As far as he knew, they moved in completely different circles. Fayne was quiet, thoughtful, the type who stuck with her close-knit group of friends. Sable, on the other hand, was an enigma. She was cool and self-assured, someone who didn't seem to rely on anyone.

But then again… Fayne had always been observant, hadn't she? She noticed things about people that others overlooked. Maybe she'd noticed Sable in the same way Raxian had—maybe even before he had. That thought unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain.

Was it possible that Fayne knew more about Sable than he did? The idea felt absurd. How could she, when Raxian had spent weeks playing with Sable, learning her quirks, figuring out her moves both in the game and in real life? And yet… that note.

The more he thought about it, the more questions arose. Why would Fayne have Sable's name written down in the first place? Was it for something innocent, or was there more to it?

Raxian shook his head, trying to push the thought aside, but it kept creeping back in. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because Sable had become such a central figure in his life lately, and the idea of someone else—especially someone as quiet and reserved as Fayne—being connected to her felt… unexpected.

He toyed with the idea of asking Fayne about it, but the thought of bringing it up felt awkward. What would he even say? Hey, so about that note with Sable's name on it—what's the deal?

No, he'd have to let it go. It wasn't his business. And yet, the curiosity gnawed at him.

For now, all he could do was keep an eye on things. If there was a connection between Fayne and Sable, it was bound to surface eventually. And when it did, Raxian wanted to be ready.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The last day of summer break came with a bittersweet air as Fayne, Leah, Mira, and their mutual friends, Paul and Agnes, spent it together. The group's plans for the day revolved around supporting Agnes, who had a ballet rehearsal. She had invited them to watch, promising that even though it was a rehearsal, it would feel just as magical as an actual performance.

The rehearsal hall was elegant and spacious, with polished wooden floors and tall mirrors reflecting the soft afternoon light. Agnes stood at the center of the stage, adjusting her position with precision. Her blonde, shoulder-length hair was tied back into a neat bun, and the faint freckles dusting her delicate features added a touch of charm to her poised demeanor. Her crystal-clear blue eyes scanned the studio as she prepared to begin, her thin, graceful figure exuding a quiet strength that came from years of discipline.

The music began, soft and lilting, filling the space with its melody. Agnes moved with unparalleled elegance, her every step and turn flowing effortlessly into the next. Even though it was just a rehearsal, her dedication to her craft was evident. Her movements were so fluid and captivating that it was hard to distinguish this from a full performance.

Fayne sat quietly in the audience with Leah, Mira, and Paul, her eyes fixed on Agnes. "She's incredible," Leah whispered, leaning toward Mira, who nodded in agreement. Fayne didn't say anything, but she felt the same. Agnes seemed to transform on stage, her every motion telling a story. The way she leaped, turned, and balanced seemed almost ethereal, like she was born for the stage.

Paul, who had been introduced to Fayne and her friends through Agnes, couldn't help but smile proudly as he watched her. "She's been practicing this piece for months," he said softly, his admiration evident. "It's amazing to see how much work she puts into it."

As the rehearsal continued, Fayne found herself drawn into the performance. Agnes's dedication was inspiring, but there was also a sense of wistfulness in watching her. Fayne couldn't help but think about her own passions—or lack thereof. She had been dabbling in League of Legends lately, but compared to Agnes's years of dedication to ballet, it felt so… aimless.

When the rehearsal came to an end, Agnes took a deep bow, and the small audience of friends clapped enthusiastically. She stepped off the stage, her cheeks flushed from exertion but her smile radiant.

"Well?" Agnes asked as she approached the group, still in her rehearsal attire. "What did you think?"

"You were amazing!" Leah gushed, clapping her hands together. "Seriously, you looked like you were performing in a world-class theater."

"Agreed," Mira added. "You're so graceful. I could never do what you do."

Paul smiled warmly. "You've outdone yourself, as always."

Fayne nodded, her voice softer but just as genuine. "You were incredible, Agnes. It was… inspiring to watch."

Agnes beamed at the praise, brushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Thanks, guys. It means a lot that you came to watch. Rehearsals can feel so isolated sometimes—it's nice to share it with friends."

As the group chatted, Fayne found herself quietly observing Agnes's energy. There was something about her confidence and focus that struck a chord. Agnes had found her passion, something she was truly committed to, and it showed in every move she made.

As the day wound down, the group headed to a nearby café to celebrate Agnes's rehearsal. Sitting around the table, laughter and conversation flowed easily, but Fayne's mind wandered. Watching Agnes had left her with a question she couldn't shake: What am I truly passionate about?

For now, she didn't have an answer. But as she sipped her drink and listened to her friends talk, she felt a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she was on the path to finding it.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

As the evening approached, the group made plans to watch the firework show together, eager to celebrate the last day of summer in style. Their destination was Solcrest, Milo's city, where the grand fireworks display would light up the night sky over the riverfront.

Fayne decided to reach out to Milo, thinking the fireworks might be something he'd enjoy, even if ballet wasn't exactly his thing. She texted him a casual invite:

"Hey, Milo. We're in Solcrest for the firework show tonight. Wanna join us? It's at the riverfront. Figured this might be more your vibe than earlier."

To her surprise, Milo replied quickly:

"Fireworks, huh? Sure, why not. Where should I meet you?"

Fayne told the group they'd meet Milo at the town square before heading to the riverfront. The square, with its cobblestone streets and string lights draped between the surrounding buildings, served as a central gathering point for Solcrest's festivities. It was already buzzing with activity—food stalls, live music, and laughter filling the air.

As Fayne, Leah, Mira, Paul, and Agnes waited, Fayne couldn't help but glance around, her anticipation growing. When Milo finally arrived, he was easy to spot—dressed in his usual casual yet practical style, with a dark jacket slung over his shoulders and his glasses slightly fogged from the cool evening air.

"Hey," Milo greeted with a small wave, his eyes scanning the group. "So, where's the best spot for this show?"

Leah chimed in, her excitement bubbling over. "We were thinking the hill near the river! It's supposed to have the best view."

With that, the group set off together, chatting and laughing as they navigated the lively streets of Solcrest. The air was cool but pleasant, the perfect backdrop for what promised to be a memorable night.

As they reached the riverfront, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Milo leaned over to Fayne and muttered with a small smirk, "Guess this isn't such a bad way to spend the evening after all."

Another win for Fayne. She hadn't been expecting it, but once again, she managed to coax Milo out of his usual hideaway. There was something gratifying about seeing him step out of his comfort zone, even if it was just for an evening under the fireworks.

As the first firework lit up the night sky, casting vibrant blues and golds over the river, Fayne caught Milo glancing around at the scene—the festive crowd, the illuminated cityscape, and their group laughing and pointing out their favorite displays. For a moment, he seemed completely at ease, a rare sight that made her smile.

"You know," Milo said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "you've got this weird knack for pulling me into things I didn't think I'd enjoy."

"Well," Fayne teased, nudging his arm lightly, "someone has to make sure you're getting your dose of Vitamin D and socializing with actual humans once in a while."

Milo let out a rare laugh, shaking his head. "Fair enough. Just don't make a habit out of it, okay?"

"No promises," Fayne replied, her grin widening. Another score indeed.

Fayne's expression shifted, a hint of seriousness clouding her usual calm demeanor. She gently tugged Milo aside, just far enough that the others wouldn't overhear them. Her gaze lifted to the fireworks painting the night sky in dazzling bursts of color.

"Hey, Milo..." she began softly, her voice almost lost amidst the distant pops and cheers. "During a fireworks show... you're supposed to make a wish, aren't you? If you could wish for anything... what would it be?"

Milo arched an eyebrow at Fayne's sudden shift in tone, the vibrant bursts of fireworks casting flickering colors across his face and glasses. He turned to her, curious, as her words lingered in the air. She had that thoughtful expression he'd come to recognize over the years—a mix of curiosity and quiet seriousness.

"A wish during a fireworks show?" he echoed, his voice softening to match hers, as though the moment required a gentler approach. "Did you make that up, or is that actually a thing?"

Fayne gave a small shrug, her gaze still fixed on the sky. "Maybe it's something I read... or heard somewhere," she admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But I like the idea. Fireworks feel kind of magical, don't they? Like the kind of thing that could carry a wish into the stars."

Milo chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Magical, huh? You've been reading too many fantasy novels again." But there was no teasing edge to his voice—just the faint warmth of familiarity.

Fayne finally turned her gaze to him, the light from the fireworks dancing in her blue eyes. "I'm serious, Milo. If you could wish for anything right now—something you really wanted—what would it be?"

He paused, caught off guard by the earnestness in her tone. The vibrant cracks and pops above seemed to stretch the silence between them, filling the space as he thought.

"I don't know," he said after a moment, his voice quieter. "I've never really been one for wishes. If I want something, I work for it. A wish feels… out of reach. Unreal."

Fayne tilted her head, her expression softening as she studied him. "It doesn't have to be something grand, you know. Just... anything that matters to you."

Milo hesitated, the weight of her words pressing against his usual practicality. His gaze flickered back to the fireworks, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Alright," he said finally, his tone more reflective. "If I had to wish for something... maybe it'd be for things to stay steady for once. No big changes. Just... a little peace. That's not too much to ask for, right?"

Fayne nodded, her own smile faint but sincere. "Not at all. Peace sounds nice."

Milo turned the question back to her, a spark of curiosity in his voice. "What about you, then? What's your big fireworks wish?"

Fayne hesitated, her cheeks warming as she glanced back at the sky. She wasn't sure how to put her swirling thoughts into words—how could she explain the unshakable pull she felt toward someone she barely knew? How could she wish for answers to feelings she barely understood?

"Maybe..." she started, choosing her words carefully. "Maybe I'd wish to figure some things out. To understand things about myself I'm still... confused about."

Milo glanced at her, his expression softening with understanding, but he didn't press. "Sounds like a good wish," he said simply. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Fayne."

The two of them stood in companionable silence, the fireworks painting the night sky in brilliant, fleeting colors. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, leaving only the two of them and their quiet wishes drifting into the stars.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

That night, Fayne drifted into a dream, her thoughts pulling her into a world where the lines between fantasy and desire blurred effortlessly. She found herself back under the vibrant cascade of fireworks, their colors painting the night sky in brilliant hues. But this time, it wasn't Milo standing beside her.

It was Sable.

Sable's presence was magnetic, as it always seemed to be. She stood close, her green eyes shimmering as they reflected the bursts of light above. Fayne felt her heart race, every detail of the dream vivid—the soft cadence of Sable's voice as she spoke, the way her lips curved into a faint smile, the warmth radiating from her as their shoulders brushed.

They weren't speaking, yet the silence felt profound, almost intimate. As if words weren't needed. Sable turned to her, her gaze steady and piercing, and Fayne could feel the weight of it. The world around them seemed to fade, the fireworks muted into the background. It was just the two of them now, caught in a moment that felt impossibly real.

Fayne's breath hitched as Sable leaned closer, her expression unreadable but undeniably intent. Time felt as though it slowed, each movement deliberate, her heart pounding with anticipation. The space between them vanished, their faces mere inches apart. Fayne could almost feel the warmth of Sable's breath, her lips hovering tantalizingly close.

And then—just before they could close the gap, the dream shattered like glass, the vibrant colors and warmth ripped away in an instant. Fayne's eyes shot open, the dim light of her room grounding her in reality. Her heart was racing, her breaths shallow, her entire body tingling with the remnants of the dream.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying every detail with an intensity that left her flushed. Her chest heaved as she struggled to steady herself, the vividness of the dream refusing to fade. A yearning—sharp and unyielding—coursed through her, leaving her feeling both exhilarated and unmoored.

"A crush," she whispered into the darkness, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own racing heart. But this wasn't just a simple crush, was it? It was something more—something deeper, rawer, and impossibly confusing.

Fayne turned onto her side, hugging her pillow tightly as she closed her eyes again, willing herself to calm down. But the echo of Sable's touch, the almost-kiss, lingered in her mind, making it impossible to find peace.

How could one person have such a hold on her? And what was she supposed to do now?

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Fayne was usually a model of punctuality. She had her routines, her habits, and her mornings were typically as structured as her personality. But today, something felt different—off. The dream had left her restless, and waking up for school felt unusually difficult. Her mind was heavy, clouded by thoughts she couldn't shake.

A soft knock came at her door.

"Fayne?" her mother called, concern threading her voice. "Are you up? You're going to be late."

Reluctantly, Fayne pulled herself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Just give me a moment," she mumbled through the door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—her silver hair slightly disheveled, her expression as tired as she felt. Sighing, she shuffled over to her closet and pulled out her uniform. Normally, she took care to look polished, but today, she barely made an effort.

Her ribbon went untied, her hair clippers—usually a staple—were left abandoned on the dresser, and she didn't even bother brushing her hair properly. She grabbed her bag and trudged out of the house, mumbling a distracted goodbye to her mother as she left.

When she arrived at school, it was well past her usual time. Fayne slipped into the building, her pace quickening as she realized how close she was to missing the start of class. The hallways were nearly empty, the distant chatter of students already in their classrooms filling the space.

Sliding the door open, she stepped inside just minutes before the teacher entered. Mira and Leah, seated near the middle of the classroom, turned toward her in surprise. Their eyes widened as they took in her slightly disheveled appearance—the untied ribbon, the unkempt hair. Fayne quickly avoided their questioning looks and headed to her desk, dropping her bag with a quiet sigh.

From the front of the classroom, Raxian noticed her too. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched her slip into her seat. Fayne wasn't the type to come in late—or look like she'd just rolled out of bed. Something was definitely off. He didn't say anything, but he couldn't help but wonder what had her so out of sorts.

Fayne, on the other hand, felt the weight of all their eyes on her. She buried herself in her notebook, pretending to be busy as the teacher entered the room and began the lesson. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts kept drifting back to the dream, to Sable, and to the confusing swirl of emotions she couldn't quite sort out.

The day had barely started, and she already felt like it was going to be a long one.

—--------------

As the teacher began the lesson, Mira and Leah exchanged glances, silently agreeing that something was definitely up with Fayne. Mira leaned slightly toward her, her voice barely above a whisper, careful not to attract attention.

"Fayne, are you okay?" she asked, her tone laced with concern. "What happened? I thought you had fun yesterday. You seemed fine at the fireworks."

Leah chimed in, her voice equally hushed. "Yeah, seriously. You look like you barely slept. Did something happen after we left?"

Fayne stared at her notebook, doodling aimlessly in the corner of the page. She didn't look up, afraid that if she met their eyes, they'd see straight through her. "I'm fine," she muttered, keeping her voice low. "Really. Just... didn't sleep well, that's all."

Mira frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Didn't sleep well? You look like you didn't sleep at all."

"Come on, Fayne," Leah pressed gently. "You can tell us if something's bothering you. You know we're here for you, right?"

Fayne's grip on her pen tightened. She appreciated their concern, truly, but how could she even begin to explain what was on her mind? How could she tell them that her restless night had been filled with dreams of a girl she barely knew—a girl who seemed to occupy her every waking thought lately? It was too much, too complicated, and she wasn't ready to share it.

"It's nothing, really," she said, forcing a small smile. "Just one of those mornings, you know? I'll be fine."

Leah and Mira exchanged another glance, clearly not convinced but willing to let it go for now.

"Alright," Mira said softly, leaning back in her chair. "But if you need to talk, we're here, okay?"

Fayne nodded, grateful for their understanding, even if she couldn't take them up on their offer. As the teacher's gaze swept over the class, the whispers came to an end, and they all turned their attention to the lesson. But Fayne's thoughts remained far from the classroom, lingering on the dream, on Sable, and on the growing confusion in her heart.

—---------------------------------------

The lunch bell rang, and the classroom erupted into a familiar hum of chatter and movement. Fayne, however, sat still for a moment, her heart heavy and her mind racing. She couldn't bear to face Mira and Leah's concerned looks or endure the noise of the cafeteria. She needed space—away from the world, away from herself.

Slipping her bag over her shoulder, she quietly rose from her seat, making sure not to draw any attention. Fayne walked out of the classroom unnoticed, her footsteps quick but quiet as she made her way through the winding hallways. She didn't have a particular destination in mind, only the vague knowledge of a place she'd overheard some students mention—the rooftop.

She climbed the stairs hesitantly, her hand trailing along the cold railing. The higher she went, the quieter it became, the noise of the school fading into a distant murmur. When she reached the top, she hesitated, staring at the heavy door in front of her. She hadn't been up here before, but if the rumors were true, this was where she'd find some peace.

With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly. She peeked her head out and whispered, "Hello?" Her voice was barely audible, swallowed by the open space and the faint rustle of wind.

No response. The rooftop was empty, just as she'd hoped. Fayne stepped out onto the cool concrete, letting the door close quietly behind her. The gray sky stretched wide above her, clouds shifting slowly, with the sun occasionally breaking through in soft, golden rays.

She walked to the edge of the rooftop and sat down, placing her lunch beside her. For a moment, she simply gazed up at the sky, letting the weight of the day press against her. The faint breeze carried a chill, but it was comforting—a reminder that she was alone, that she didn't have to keep up her composure for anyone.

Opening her lunch box, Fayne tried to focus on eating, but her appetite felt distant. Her thoughts were louder than the wind, louder than the world below. The dream from last night lingered in her mind, vivid and unrelenting. The memory of Sable, of their almost-kiss under the fireworks, played over and over, tugging at her heart.

Why was she feeling like this? Why couldn't she just... let it go? Fayne sighed, her gaze drifting across the rooftop, her thoughts a storm as gray as the sky above.

Fayne let out a quiet sigh, staring at her untouched lunch. The rooftop had offered the escape she needed, the solitude to wrestle with her thoughts. Yet, it felt incomplete, as if something—or someone—was missing.

And then, as if her very thoughts had conjured her, a voice broke through the silence. "Didn't expect to see anyone else up here."

Fayne's heart skipped a beat as she turned her head toward the sound. Sitting in the far corner of the rooftop, partially obscured by the stairwell entrance, was Sable. She was casually leaning back against the wall, legs stretched out, a book balanced on her knee. Her usual cool demeanor was as effortless as ever, and those green eyes glanced up from the pages, locking onto Fayne's.

Fayne froze, her pulse quickening. How had she not noticed her earlier? Was Sable there the entire time? "I-I didn't think anyone else came up here," Fayne stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sable smirked faintly, closing her book with a soft thud. "Not many do. That's kind of the point."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Fayne didn't know whether to stay or go. She felt like she'd intruded on something private, yet at the same time, Sable's presence drew her in, grounding her in a way she couldn't quite explain.

Sable broke the silence, her tone more curious now. "So, what brings you up here? You don't exactly strike me as the type to skip out on the cafeteria social hour."

Fayne's cheeks flushed slightly. "I just... needed some air," she admitted, fiddling with the corner of her lunch box. "It's been... a lot today."

Sable tilted her head, her expression softening. "Rough day?"

Fayne hesitated, then nodded. "Something like that."

Sable studied her for a moment, her gaze thoughtful but not prying. Then, with a shrug, she gestured toward the empty space next to her. "Well, you're here now. Might as well enjoy it."

Fayne blinked, surprised by the invitation. Slowly, she gathered her things and moved closer, sitting down a short distance away from Sable. The rooftop felt different now—less isolating, more... comfortable.

For a while, they sat in companionable silence, the soft rustling of the breeze and the faint hum of the city below filling the space between them. It wasn't until Sable glanced at Fayne's untouched lunch that she spoke again. "You're not gonna eat that?"

Fayne blinked down at her lunch box, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm not really that hungry."

Sable leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "Suit yourself. But trust me, you'll regret it when you're stuck in class later, starving."

The corners of Fayne's lips twitched into a faint smile. It was such a simple comment, yet it eased the knot in her chest, if only slightly. She stole a glance at Sable, her heart fluttering unexpectedly. There she was again, so effortlessly composed, so magnetic without even trying.

And for the first time that day, Fayne felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

This was their fourth encounter, wasn't it? Gym class, the music store, the bench by the river, and now... here. Always so unexpected, always so—

"So... I assume you must be in class 2C?" Fayne murmured, breaking the silence that had settled between them. Her voice was soft, uncertain, as she fiddled with the edge of her lunch box.

Sable glanced at her, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You assume correctly," she replied, her tone light but laced with amusement. "I guess that makes you 2B, huh?"

Fayne nodded, her gaze briefly dropping to her lap. "Yeah... I thought so. I mean, I figured we were in parallel classes, considering... well, the gym class thing."

Sable let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the wall again. "You've got a good memory. Most people barely even notice I'm there."

Fayne hesitated, her cheeks warming slightly. "I wouldn't say that," she said quietly. "You kind of... stand out."

Sable raised an eyebrow, her smile shifting into something a little more curious. "Stand out, huh? That's not usually the vibe I go for."

Fayne's heart skipped a beat. Did she just... accidentally say too much? "I just mean—" she started, fumbling for the right words, "you're... memorable. In a good way, I mean."

Sable didn't respond right away, her gaze steady on Fayne. Then, with a faint smirk, she said, "I'll take it as a compliment."

The tension in Fayne's chest eased slightly, though her pulse was still racing. She wasn't sure why, but Sable always had this effect on her—making her feel both nervous and strangely at ease at the same time.

"I've been... giving the band a listen, by the way," Fayne began, her voice a little hesitant as she kept her gaze on her lunch box. "True Damage—Giants... you were right about what you said. The lyrics..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "It might not be my usual beat, but the rapping is cool. And I like the underlying message."

Sable tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "Oh yeah? What about it?"

"It feels so cocky," Fayne continued, her words gaining a bit more confidence. "And so bold. Like they're saying, 'We're here, and we're unstoppable.' Personally, I don't really resonate with that kind of attitude... but it's... inspiring in a way, you know?"

Sable's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Yeah. It's not about where you are—it's about where you want to be. That's the vibe. I think we all have moments where we wish we could carry that kind of confidence."

Fayne glanced at her, surprised by the thoughtful response. "You think so?"

"Sure," Sable said, her tone casual but sincere. "It's not just about being cocky for the sake of it. It's about believing in yourself—even if you don't quite feel it yet." She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. "Maybe that's why it resonates with so many people. It's not just a song—it's a mindset."

Fayne couldn't help but smile faintly. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

"Well," Sable said with a smirk, "guess I've got good taste, huh?"

Fayne chuckled softly, the tension in her chest easing a little. "Yeah... I guess you do."

"Sable... has anyone ever left such a strong impression on you that you just couldn't shake it? No matter how much you tried, they stayed on your mind. And... even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn't help but feel this pull—the urge to know them better, to... grow closer to them?", Fayne hesitated after asking the question, unsure if she had overstepped a line. Her chest tightened as she waited for a response, the silence between them feeling both heavy and fragile. Had she gone too far?

But somehow, she couldn't help herself. There was something about Sable—her aura, her mystery—that made Fayne feel compelled to seek answers, to understand her better. The question wasn't just a passing curiosity; it felt like something she needed to know, a truth she was desperate to grasp.

Sable leaned back against the rooftop railing, the breeze tousling a few loose strands of her black and blue hair as she mulled over Fayne's question. Her green eyes flicked toward the horizon, scanning the clouds that seemed to stretch endlessly. The question wasn't an easy one—not because she didn't have an answer, but because she wasn't used to talking about herself like this.

"Yeah," Sable started softly, her voice carrying a contemplative tone. "There've been a few people who've left a mark on me. It's not something I dwell on, though." She paused, her gaze growing distant. "See, I've moved around a lot because of my dad's work. Never stayed in one place long enough to form... real, lasting connections. I guess I just stopped trying after a while."

Fayne listened intently, noting the subtle vulnerability in Sable's voice—something she hadn't expected from someone who seemed so composed and self-assured.

"But..." Sable continued, a small smirk forming as she glanced at Fayne. "That doesn't mean there haven't been people I wanted to get to know better. For example, someone I used to team with—Crimson Edge. We only ever texted, never met in person, but their presence was... magnetic. Everything about them, from their playstyle to the way they communicated, was so... cool. Confident. It made me want to level up, to match that energy. That Yone player really knew how to leave an impression."

Fayne smiled faintly at Sable's enthusiasm, sensing a rare glimmer of admiration in her usually guarded demeanor. "Did you ever get the chance to meet them outside of the game?" she asked.

Sable shook her head, her smirk fading into something more wistful. "No. Life got in the way. The team disbanded, and we all went our separate ways. I still play with a couple of them now and then, but it's not the same. I'd argue I wanted to get to know all of them better, but Crimson Edge... they stood out the most."

Fayne nodded, digesting Sable's words, but before she could ask more, Sable continued, her tone shifting slightly.

"There was someone else, though," Sable added, her voice quieter now, almost as if she was speaking more to herself than to Fayne. "When I was a kid, there was this little group I used to hang out with all the time. One of them—he was probably my closest friend. My best friend, actually. We did everything together—games, dumb adventures, even just hanging out doing nothing. If I could go back, even for a moment, it would be nice to see them again."

Fayne tilted her head, sensing the weight behind Sable's words. "What happened?"

Sable shrugged, her expression unreadable. "Time happened. People change. I'm pretty sure none of them would recognize me now... and I probably wouldn't recognize them, either." She exhaled sharply, as if brushing the thought aside. "It's just how life works, I guess."

The silence that followed felt heavy, though not uncomfortable. Fayne wanted to say something, to offer some sort of comfort or connection, but she found herself at a loss for words. Sable's guarded nature made it clear that this wasn't something she opened up about often.

Sable shifted, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, breaking the moment. "Anyway, enough about me. Why'd you ask, Fayne? Someone on your mind?"

The sudden shift in focus startled Fayne, her cheeks warming as she scrambled for an answer. "I—uh—no, not really. Just... curious, I guess," she stammered, avoiding Sable's sharp gaze.

Sable smirked knowingly but didn't press further. Instead, she leaned back against the railing again, the clouds reflecting faintly in her green eyes. "Fair enough," she said, letting the conversation trail off as the breeze carried their unspoken thoughts away.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, each lost in their own world. Yet, despite the silence, there was a strange sense of understanding between them—a shared acknowledgment of the complexities that came with forming, losing, and yearning for connections.

Sable had been unexpectedly vulnerable, sharing fragments of herself that Fayne doubted many others had ever seen. Her words carried a rawness, a quiet hope that her openness might encourage Fayne to do the same. But how could she?

How could she possibly confess that the person who had been surfacing those questions in her mind—the one she couldn't stop thinking about—was her? That Sable, sitting just a few feet away, was the very source of the turmoil in her heart?

Fayne's pulse quickened as she clutched the edge of her lunchbox, her thoughts spiraling. The weight of Sable's presence, her unwavering green eyes, her calm yet magnetic demeanor—it all felt overwhelming. The words threatened to bubble up, but she swallowed them back, a nervous laugh escaping instead.

"I guess... it's not always easy to admit those kinds of things, is it?" Fayne said, her voice wavering slightly. She forced a small smile, hoping Sable wouldn't see through her thin veil of composure.

Sable tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady but gentle. "No, it's not," she admitted. "But sometimes, even if you don't say it outright, the truth has a way of showing itself."

Fayne's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around her lunchbox. Did Sable know? Could she see the conflict written all over Fayne's face? She quickly turned her eyes back to the sky, the clouds providing a much-needed distraction from the intensity of the moment.

"Yeah," Fayne murmured, barely audible. "I guess it does."