God, she talks too much.
I wasn't in the mood for this. I tried giving her half-hearted replies, hoping she'd take the hint and leave me alone. But no, she just kept going, like she wouldn't stop until she got whatever it was she wanted from me.
With a sigh, I finally turned to face her.
"Aria Collins, right?" I said, cutting her off. "Can you just tell me why you came to see me? Because, honestly, I'm not in the right mood for a chat."
Aria, who had been running her mouth at full speed, suddenly stopped and looked at me with curiosity.
Ah, damn it. I shouldn't have asked her that. Now she's going to ask something that'll put me in a bad spot.
"You're right. There is something I wanted to ask you. Can I?"
"No, you can't."
"I wanted to ask—Wait, what?" She blinked in confusion. "But you just said—"
Aria frowned, clearly thrown off by my abrupt refusal. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, like she was struggling to process what had just happened.
Good. Maybe she'd take the hint and leave.
I turned away, hoping that was the end of it. But, of course, I wasn't that lucky.
"Wait a minute!" she called out, stepping forward as if I hadn't just shut the door on this whole conversation.
I didn't turn around.
My hands gripped the edge of the bed as I sat there, shoulders tense, head lowered.
Silence stretched for a moment too long, thick with something I couldn't quite place—frustration? Worry? Determination?
"Listen," Aria finally said, quieter this time. "I didn't come here just to talk about the exam. I came because… there is something I want to confirm."
She crossed her arms, tapping her foot like an impatient teacher waiting for an explanation. "Look, I just need to ask you one thing, and then I'll leave you alone. I promise."
I gave her a flat look. "I don't believe you."
Aria pouted. "Come on, Rin, am I really that bad?"
"Yes."
She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like I'd just stabbed her. "Wow. Brutal. You just broke a girl's heart, you know?"
See? This was exactly what I was talking about.
"Hey, Listen—."
"Not interested."
"Hey! Don't treat me like some kind of pest that needs to die! Is it really that hard to answer one question?!"
"Yes. Yes, it is."
What if my reputation—which, of course, I don't even have—ends up getting worse?
Eh, who cares?
As long as I can avoid situations like this, that's all that matters.
Screw social interaction—if being rude kept me out of trouble, I'd happily be the villain in everyone's story.
Unfortunately, Aria didn't seem the type to give up just because I was a bit hostile. Or a lot hostile.
She placed her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "Okay, look. You're obviously in pain, cranky, and not in the mood. I get that. But I still need to ask this—because it's important."
"I said no," I repeated, groaning as I pulled the blanket over my head.
But she wasn't done.
Great.
Now
"It was you, wasn't it?!"
…Oh, shit.
I tried so hard not to hear it. Really, I did. But she just had to blurt it out.
My downfall?
Underestimating her.
She looked so quiet and unassuming that I didn't bother covering my ears in time.
And now I was screwed.
I couldn't exactly pretend to be deaf now, could I?
"When that fortress attacked the duel arena during your match, When explosion happened at the arena ground," she continued, eyes narrowing. "I saw everything."
"You defeating Lucas Voss, You entering mana-conducting tower also somehow you managed to awaken that tower, even only for moment. That allows Ryen, Leo, and everyone who were fighting to defeat the Trolls and other monster to kill them and let's not forget how Ryen suddenly got stronger the moment something flashed from your hand."
Deny. Deny. Deny.
It was the only logical course of action.
I forced my expression into one of utter confusion and tilted my head. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Aria's frown deepened. "Don't play dumb. I saw it. …Right before Ryen moved like a completely different person, you were doing something. Your hand glowed. It wasn't subtle. And no one else saw it but me."
I kept my face blank.
"Must've been a trick of the light," I said, shrugging. It must be coincidence."
"You were unconscious 15 seconds later. Coincidence?"
"Yep."
Aria's eyes narrowed further. She was relentless, like a damn bloodhound that had caught a scent and wasn't about to let go.
I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to will away both the headache and the girl drilling holes through me with her gaze.
"You're barking up the wrong tree," I said. "I'm just a regular student who almost died. I'm not exactly in the best condition to entertain conspiracy theories."
Aria stepped closer, undeterred. "You're lying."
I blinked.
No hesitation. No doubt.
She just dropped that like a guillotine, as if daring me to argue.
And the worst part?
She wasn't wrong.
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced a chuckle. "You've got some guts accusing someone who just woke up from a coma."
"I have eyes," she said coldly. "And I'm not accusing. I'm confirming."
Holy crap. Who was this girl?
She wasn't written like this.
In the prologue, Aria Collins had one line before she and the rest of us were nuked out of existence for comedy effect. She didn't do anything. She was filler.
And yet here she was, interrogating me like some sharp-tongued detective with a vendetta.
Damn it. She was sharper than I thought.
I shrugged, keeping my voice casual. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. Everything was chaotic. Things were exploding. People were screaming. Adrenaline does weird things to perception, you know?"
Aria didn't flinch. "I've seen people in chaos. I've been in chaos. What I saw wasn't a trick. You were the trigger."
I met her gaze for the first time—really met it. And instantly regretted it.
There was no doubt in her eyes. Not a flicker of hesitation. Just the quiet fire of someone who had seen something they couldn't unsee, and now refused to let it go.
She crossed her arms again. "You don't have to admit it. I already know. But I am going to keep asking until you give me a straight answer."
I stared at her, deadpan. "You ever consider a career in pest control?"
She grinned. "Only if the pests look like you."
"Tch."
This girl was impossible.
I considered denying it again. Just keep the cycle going until she got bored and left. But something about her stubbornness… no, not just that—something about her—made me pause.
Aria Collins. One-line filler. Background noise. And yet here she was, rewriting her role one line at a time.
I hated it.
I respected it.
I hated that I respected it.
"You're really not going to drop this, are you?"
"Not a chance."
I leaned back, the blanket falling from my head. "Even if I told you to get lost?"
She smiled. "I'd just find my way back."
I groaned into my hands. "Great. I've attracted a stalker."
I needed to get out of here. Fast.
Turning on my heel, I started walking away.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Aria called after me, hurrying to keep up.
"Somewhere you're not," I said without looking back.
"Unbelievable!" she huffed, still on my heels. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know how suspicious you're acting right now?"
"Oh, trust me. I know."
"Then why—"
"Because I don't want to talk about it."
That made her pause.
For a second, I thought—hoped—she'd finally drop it.
But then—
"As I already told you, I saw everything." Aria's voice was firm, leaving no room for denial. "You can't talk your way out of this. So just tell me—why did you do it?"
I tilted my head. "Did what?"
Her eyes narrowed in irritation.
"Still playing dumb, huh? Fine. I'll talk, and you just answer."
I'm the stubborn one here? Anyone with eyes could see who was refusing to let this go.
Aria took a deep breath before continuing.
"I know for a fact that your ability comes with a heavy price. It's clearly dangerous, and if you keep quiet about it, no one would ever know. Meanwhile, Ryen gets to be a hero, basking in the glory of his commendation—all because of you. Don't you think that's unfair? Some of the credit should belong to you, Rin."
Was I upset?
"No."
The thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
Sure, I regretted using my ability—it hurt like hell—but other than that?
I didn't care.
"Let him have it," I said flatly, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "I don't need applause for doing something reckless."
Aria stared at me, eyebrows furrowed. "You risked your life for him. Doesn't that matter to you? At least a little?"
"No."
She opened her mouth, closed it again, then shook her head in disbelief. "You're seriously unbelievable."
"I get that a lot."
"You could've died."
"But I didn't."
"That's not the point!"
I stopped walking.
That was a mistake.
She immediately closed the distance between us, glaring up at me with that frustrating, unrelenting determination burning behind her glasses.
"You can pretend all you want, but I saw it. I felt it. Whatever you did—whatever that ability is—it's not normal. And if you keep using it like that, it will kill you."
I clenched my jaw, turning away before she could see the flinch I didn't mean to show.
Maybe it hadn't fully sunk in that I was inside a novel. Or maybe I just didn't give a damn about the protagonist's spotlight in this failed, mess of a story.
Aria's gaze stayed locked onto me, unwavering, her curiosity burning like a torch in the dark.
She was relentless.
And it was really starting to wear me down.
I exhaled slowly. "Think whatever you want."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're not even going to deny it?"
"I already did," I said flatly. "But you clearly don't believe me, so why waste my breath?"
Aria crossed her arms. "That's because you're a terrible liar."
"And you're annoyingly persistent."
She ignored that and took a step closer. "Then tell me the truth. What did you do?"
I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "Look, Aria, if you think you saw something, good for you. But I don't know what you expect me to say. Do you want me to confirm some wild theory you've cooked up?"
She hesitated. "…No."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Aria bit her lip, looking like she was debating something internally, before finally sighing. "I just— It doesn't make sense, okay? I know what I saw, and I know you're involved. But instead of bragging or explaining, you're acting like you'd rather drop dead than talk about it."
"Glad we're on the same page," I muttered.
She shot me a glare but kept going. "You could have taken some credit. But you didn't. Why?"
I frowned.
That was the second time she'd asked.
Why did she care so much?
Most people wouldn't think twice about this. They'd just accept the official story—that Ryen pulled off a miracle—and move on with their lives.
But Aria?
She wasn't letting it go.
I should have been annoyed.
I was annoyed.
And yet… a small part of me couldn't help but wonder—
Was she asking because she genuinely cared?
…No. That was wishful thinking.
I had no reason to trust her.
The best thing to do was shut this down before she backed me into a corner.
So I shrugged. "I just don't care about the spotlight."
Aria studied me, her gaze lingering. Then, to my surprise, she nodded.
"…Okay."
I blinked. "Okay?"
"Yeah." She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, I won't force you."
Was it really that easy?
…No.
There was no way she was dropping this so quickly.
I narrowed my eyes. "You're lying."
She gasped, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "Wow. So now I'm the liar?"
"Yes."
She huffed. "I'm serious! I'll stop bothering you about it. For now."
There it was.
I scoffed. "Knew it."
Aria smirked. "Hey, I never said I'd give up completely. But I'll back off—for now."
I should have been relieved.
Instead, I had the sinking feeling this wasn't the end of it.
Not by a long shot.