Chapter 7

He stared at me, utterly dumbfounded. His hand trembled slightly as he pointed in my direction, his lips moving without managing to form a single word.

I froze, suddenly feeling a little guilty. I mean, okay, sure-I might've gotten a little too curious back then. But seriously, who wouldn't? Eight-pack abs? A martial arts prodigy? Not to mention the whole "descended from a legendary family" thing? You can't just dangle all that in front of someone and expect them not to wonder.

Besides, I worked really hard to raise his favorability points in the game. It wasn't like I could let all that effort go to waste. Thinking back on it now, I couldn't help but smirk. Totally worth it.

"You… you-!" he blurted, finally managing to speak.

"Yes, me!" I said, blinking at him, feigning innocence.

He pointed at himself next as if trying to connect the dots. A long, heavy silence followed before he let out a deep sigh, the kind that said, I give up.

"Fine," he muttered, as though he'd come to some life-altering conclusion. "I'll take responsibility for this."

"…What?" My stomach twisted in confusion.

He mumbled something after that, but his voice was so low I couldn't make out a single word.

"Take responsibility for what?" I asked, leaning in closer.

His head snapped up, his face red with embarrassment. "Why are you asking so many questions?"

I blinked at him, confused, but before I could press further, he sighed again and waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever. If you're a woman, so be it. At least that'll save me some trouble. That said…" His expression darkened slightly. "I'll need to revise my plans."

"What plans?" I asked, tilting my head.

He looked away, his voice a little quieter now. "Marriage plans."

"Wait-what?" I gasped.

"You heard me!" he said, frowning as if I were the unreasonable one.

I stared at him, completely lost. "You're planning to get married? To who? You never said anything about having feelings for someone."

At this, his expression shifted to something between shock and betrayal. He stared at me like I'd just kicked a puppy.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded. "Are you saying you don't want to marry me?"

"…What?" My brain screeched to a halt.

"You've shared a bed with me," he continued, his voice raising a notch. "We've bathed together! And now you're telling me you'd rather marry someone else? Who else could it possibly be?"

His words hit me like a lightning bolt. Shared a bed? Bathed together? Oh, no. He wasn't talking about me. He was talking about my game character.

"I mean-wait, hold on a second!"

Before I could explain, Coco popped her head out from behind me, her face bright with mischief.

"If bathing together means you have to get married, and then I can marry Ms. Handsome too!" she chirped, clapping her hands.

"What?"

Coco grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Yep! I'm marrying Ms. Handsome! That way, we'll always be together!"

Michael's face was darkened by several shades.

Without a word, he grabbed Coco and yanked her away from me. His jaw was tense, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me.

"Answer me," he growled. "Exactly how many people have you bathed with?"

I froze, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Uh… wow, that's… not an easy question to answer.

Thinking fast, I took a step forward and grabbed both of their hands, squeezing tightly before Michael could press the issue.

"Let's not get distracted, okay?" I said quickly. "I have more important questions. How did you two even get here? And where have you been staying?"

The moment I asked, their expressions shifted. Michael's jaw tightened, and Coco's usual cheer disappeared entirely. She even shot him a glare, clearly upset about something.

But neither of them answered. Instead, they both tightened their grip on my hands-so much so that it actually started to hurt.

"Let's go home," Michael said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Home?" I echoed, confused. "What do you mean, home? What are you even talking about?"

Before I could get another word out, Michael stomped his foot lightly.

The world around me spun. My stomach flipped, my vision blurred, and by the time the dizziness cleared, I found myself standing in a place that felt both familiar and strange.

"This… is my house?" I murmured, looking around in shock.

No, not my house exactly-but the house from the game. My house. The one I'd spent hours customizing, down to the color of the roof tiles and the placement of the furniture.

It was perfect. An exact replica in every way.

The furniture, the garden, even the crops in the yard-they were all exactly the same as they were before the game shut down. Not just the layout but the tiny details. The height of the plants. The angle of each chair.

"How did you-this is insane!" I said, turning to Michael in awe.

He tilted his chin up slightly, clearly pleased with himself. "It wasn't that hard."

Then, with a softer tone, he added, "If you want, you can live here. For as long as you like."

I blinked, caught completely off guard.

"You always complained about how cramped your dorm was," he continued. "I figured it must be miserable, living in a shoebox like that. So, now you can stay here instead."

My chest tightened, a strange ache spreading through me.

They'd been listening to me all this time. Not just hearing, but remembering. And not only that-they'd gone out of their way to solve the problem.

I always told myself they were my friends, but sometimes I wondered if I was just being delusional, pouring so much affection into a world that wasn't real.

But here, at this moment, I knew for sure: the love I gave them wasn't one-sided.

Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them, spilling down my cheeks.

Michael froze, panic flashing across his face. "Why are you crying? You always do this-crying alone over stupid things. Stop it already!"

"Is it the house?" he asked, his voice rising in alarm. "If you don't like it, just say so! I'll change whatever you want!"

His frantic attempts to calm me down only made me cry harder.

I'd never realized how overwhelming it could feel to be loved like this.

Clearly at a loss, Michael clapped his hands together. "Hey! Look over there! Just stop crying, okay? Look!"

I followed his finger, wiping my eyes as I turned.

In the distance, I saw Richard waving at me, a grin on his face.

"Hey, over here!" he called. "Come get some candy, it's all yours!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Trust Richard to show up at the weirdest moment, looking like nothing had changed.

I walked toward him, still sniffling, and took the candy he offered. It was sweet, melting on my tongue, but my attention was drawn elsewhere.

Something on the hem of his shirt caught my eye-a dark patch of red tinged with black.

It wasn't just a stain.

It looked like blood. Old blood. Seeping out from within.