Chapter Text
Over the past few days, Julian had been conducting what he proudly considered a series of careful observations regarding the strange meters that appeared beside people’s heads. At first, the phenomenon had confused him to no end, but as someone trained to analyze evidence and patterns, he eventually decided that sitting around and wondering would bring him nowhere. If the boxes existed, then they had rules. And if they had rules, then those rules could be tested. That was how Julian Liu approached problems; through logic, trial, and deduction. So, during that hangout with Irwin a few days ago, Julian had quietly set a personal objective for himself that he would increase the red hearts.
The only problem was that he had absolutely no idea how.
What he did know, however, was that spending time together seemed to have some effect. That much had been confirmed, at least partially, during his dinner with Irwin. The red heart had appeared afterward, and that alone was enough to spark the law student’s investigative instincts. If hanging out could influence the meter, then logically speaking, increasing the frequency of those interactions should also increase the chances of raising the hearts.
And if one experiment worked once, it could be repeated.
So ever since that night, the pink-haired main character had been going out with nearly everyone he knew. Not just Sean and Irwin as that would be far too limited a sample size. Instead, he widened the pool considerably. Classmates, acquaintances from debate club, friends from shared projects, even people he normally only greeted in passing.
At some point during these experimental hangouts, Julian had been genuinely shocked to discover that Miron possessed seven red hearts beside his name.
Miron, who had only recently become friends with him.
That discovery had startled Julian so much that he had stared at the floating box for a full minute before the other guy awkwardly asked if something was on his face. It was then that Julian started piecing together the pattern more seriously. When he thought back carefully, he realized he had been spending quite a lot of time with Miron lately — inviting him over to his house to play games, texting him randomly at night, and even video-calling each other to play online games when they were both too lazy to go out.
The correlation seemed obvious. Frequent interaction increased the red hearts. It was the clearest evidence Julian had gathered so far.
Yet strangely enough, this pattern never seemed to occur when Sean and Irwin were involved together.
Now, Julian felt the need to clarify something very important in his notes (at least mentally). It wasn’t that hanging out with Sean and Irwin didn’t work. The problem was that it didn’t work when the three of them were together.
Sean, for instance, was relatively stable. Sometimes one of the grey hearts would slowly fill with red, but the pace was painfully slow that Julian wasn’t even sure if it counted as progress. It was like watching water drip into a glass one drop at a time. Days could pass without any visible change.
Eventually, Julian came to a conclusion regarding Sean.
Sean was a static variable.
And logically speaking, static variables were usually bad when someone was trying to produce results.
But even then, it wasn’t nearly as stressful as dealing with Irwin.
Because Irwin was a complete rollercoaster.
Literally.
One moment the hearts would increase. Then suddenly decrease. Then return to grey. And the moment they reached grey, Julian would immediately begin panicking. Grey hearts meant the possibility of bombs returning – which was something Julian absolutely wanted to avoid.
So every time the hearts faded back into grey, Julian would start trying things again; more conversations, invitations, casual hangouts and so on. Anything that might stabilize the meter.
But ignoring Sean entirely wasnot an option either. Even though Sean’s meter didn’t fluctuate as violently as Irwin’s, the teacher’s hearts had stubbornly remained at two red hearts for quite some time now. The number never dropped, but it never increased significantly either.
That made Julian uneasy.
So in response, he attempted another variation of his experiment.
Instead of spending time with both of them together, he began hanging out with them separately.
Unfortunately, the results only created more confusion. Because now Julian had begun to suspect something entirely different.
Were his friends having some sort of beef with each other?
Which inevitably led his mind back to the very first day he discovered the boxes.The day he woke up at Irwin’s house with the worst hangover of his life. He could still remember it clearly now. Sean had been leaning close, checking his temperature with a concerned expression while asking if he had a fever. Julian had been too dazed to respond properly at the time, still recovering from the headache pounding behind his eyes.
And then Irwin had walked in.
Julian remembered the moment vividly now — the sudden tension in the room, the way the bombs beside Irwin’s head had appeared. Eight of them.
Back then, Julian hadn’t understood what they meant. Now, however, after days of careful observation and experimentation, the memory made him pause.
Because if bombs represented ange, then that moment might have been the starting point of everything. Or they had been like that for a long time but Julian didn’t realize it. But why?
“Hey, you are not moving.”
Julian startled slightly at the sound of Miron’s voice cutting through the room. The two of them had been sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, controllers in hand, completely absorbed in a fighting game that had somehow escalated into several intense rounds of trash talk and competitive rematches. Or at least, the ex gamer had been fully absorbed. Julian, on the other hand, had spent most of the current match drifting back into his thoughts again. His character on the screen had been standing there uselessly for nearly ten seconds, receiving hit after hit without even attempting to block. The health bar was already halfway depleted.
He sighed quietly and paused the game, the screen freezing mid-animation. “Hey,” he said after a moment, glancing sideways at the other guy. “Can I ask you something?”
Miron raised one eyebrow slowly, clearly unimpressed by the sudden formality. “Since when do you ask permission?” he replied dryly.
The pink-haired law student huffed in annoyance, nudging him roughly with his shoulder. “Jeez, shut up, bro.” He shoved the gamer lightly in mock irritation before leaning back against the couch behind them. “Fine, I want to ask you something. Do you notice anything weird between Sean and Irwin?”
This time Miron actually frowned, caught off guard by the question. For Julian’s sake,he paused to think about it seriously instead of answering immediately. His mind replayed the handful of times he had seen the three of them interact together, searching for any obvious signs of conflict or disagreement. However, the more he considered it, the less he understood where the question was coming from. From his perspective, their behavior had always seemed fairly normal… at least on the surface.
“I don’t think so,” he answered finally, glancing at Julian with a puzzled look. “Why? Are they fighting?”
Julian rubbed the back of his neck, letting out what felt like the millionth sigh he had produced in the past month. “No. They’re completely good,” he muttered, sounding frustrated by his own inability to explain it properly. “I just feel like there’s something I should’ve noticed a long time ago. But even after I tried asking them directly, they just deflect the question every time. Or maybe I’m just overthinking everything.”
Ahhhh…
Miron nearly chuckled out loud as realization dawned on him. Because ironically, the same thought had crossed his mind the very first time he saw those three interacting together. The tension had been subtle but noticeable to someone paying attention. Compared to Julian, however, Miron had picked up on it almost immediately after a few minutes of observation. Then again,.Miron still remembered how both Sean and Irwin had reacted when he deliberately tried to provoke them by getting close to their mutual crush.
“Hmm… what exactly did you notice?” Miron asked, feigning innocent curiosity.
Julian caught the faint amusement hidden in his friend’s voice and shot him a suspicious glare. His pride took a small hit at the implication that his newest acquaintance might understand the situation better than he did especially when he was the one with the strange ability. Still, if Miron had noticed something useful, then swallowing his pride was a small price to pay.
He sighed again before explaining slowly, trying to organize his thoughts as he spoke. “It’s just when I hang out with them individually, everything feels normal. So that means there’s no problem between them and me, right?” He paused briefly, frowning at the memory of several awkward group outings. “But when the three of us go out together, they act fine. But I still feel this weird tension between them. I’m not even sure if they hang out alone without me.”
Now that Julian said it out loud, a new thought suddenly occurred to him. Should he try forcing them to spend time together without him? Maybe if they were left alone, they could settle whatever unspoken issue existed between them. That sounded like a reasonable strategy.
Meanwhile, Miron nearly choked trying to suppress his laughter.
The moment Julian confidently concluded that the problem probably had nothing to do with himself, Miron had to physically bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. Because the situation was absolutely, undeniably about Julian.
Everything revolved around him.
“And when exactly do they start giving off those weird vibes?” Miron asked, voice carefully neutral despite the struggle to stay composed.
Julian thought about it carefully, replaying different moments in his head while making sure not to accidentally expose the existence of his ability. But the more he tried to describe the tension without mentioning the meters, the more impossible it felt. From the outside, both Sean and Irwin looked completely normal. Calm, polite, friendly — exactly how they always behaved.
It was only the bars that betrayed the truth.
Which led Julian to a sudden realization.
Why couldn’t he just tell someone?
The thought made him pause mid-sentence. His gaze slowly shifted toward the other man as he studied him for a long moment, silently weighing the risks. This entire situation sounded ridiculous. Completely absurd, honestly. If he told the wrong person, they might think he had lost his mind.
But if there was anyone he could trust with something this strange…
Miron might actually be the best candidate.
After all, that guy had always been the responsible one. The oldest sibling who had grown up carrying burdens far beyond what someone his age should handle. The one who quietly took care of his father during his illness while trying to keep peace between his younger brother Mikael and the rest of their fragile family. Despite the fame he had gained when he was younger, Miron had matured quickly — far faster than most people around them. He had learned to stay calm, think rationally, and handle difficult situations with patience.
Yeah.
Miron was the perfect person to tell.
Before Miron could question the sudden silence, Julian abruptly grabbed both of his shoulders with unexpected determination.
“Bro,” he said seriously, staring directly into his eyes. “Whatever I’m about to tell you, I need you to believe me. And you absolutely cannot tell anyone else about it.”
The gamer blinked in confusion at the dramatic request but nodded anyway, placing his controller down beside him. “…Alright?”
Julian took a deep breath, mentally gathering the courage required to say something that sounded completely insane.
“I recently got this ability,” he began slowly. “Like some kind of magic or cheat code. I can see how people see me.”
“…What?”
And from that point on, Julian launched into a full explanation that lasted nearly an entire hour. He described everything; the first moment the boxes appeared when he woke up at Irwin’s house with a terrible hangover, the different types of hearts, the bombs that indicated anger, and the countless changes he had observed whenever he spent time with Sean or Irwin. He even explained the experiments he had been conducting over the past few days, trying to figure out what actions caused the meters to rise or fall.
Miron listened silently the entire time.
When Julian finally finished talking, the room fell quiet for a few seconds.
“Do you understand?” Julian asked cautiously.
Miron remained silent for another moment before slowly nodding his head. “So that’s what you meant earlier when you said they look fine on the outside but the bars show something different.”
Julian blinked in surprise. “Why do you look so calm?” he demanded. “Why are you believing me so easily?”
Miron shrugged casually.
“Well, it explains a lot about how you managed to notice anything in the first place,” he said. Because you’re extremely dense, he added silently in his mind.
If anyone else had told him a story like that, Miron would have assumed it was a poorly constructed lie or an elaborate joke. But this was Julian Liu — someone who barely had time to sleep, let alone invent complicated stories for entertainment. And considering how oblivious Julian could be about people’s feelings, the idea that the universe itself had handed him a supernatural cheat sheet felt almost poetic.
Honestly, Miron found it hilarious.
A brilliant law student. One of the smartest people in the faculty.And still such an idiot that even God apparently had to step in and help him understand basic emotions.
Yet, despite everything especially the very obvious implications, the guy still managed to misunderstand almost all of it. Miron could practically feel a headache forming behind his temples as he stared at Julian. At this point, Miron genuinely felt like burying his face into a pillow and screaming out his frustration until it disappeared. The fact that Julian had just casually revealed that Miron himself had seven red hearts should have been the most shocking part of the entire conversation. And yet, somehow, that revelation was completely overshadowed by the overwhelming disappointment he felt at how utterly dense the other remained.
He let out a quiet, almost helpless sigh, though there was a hint of amusement laced within it. Because frustrating as it was, this was admittedly, part of Julian Liu”s charm.
— said the person who had been admiring him since the very first time they met.
Really, Miron could have just left things as they were.
If this situation continued unresolved, it technically worked in his favor. Strategically speaking, he was already ahead; seven red hearts was not something to overlook. If Sean and Irwin kept circling around their own feelings without ever reaching a conclusion, then he would remain in the safest position.
But that kind of victory was boring.
As someone who was or still competitive gamer, winning without resistance, without challenge, without any real sense of progression — it felt unrewarding. And honestly, not worth it.
So instead of staying silent, he leaned slightly forward and offered a suggestion. “How about you make them irritated with each other until they finally blow up? Because when people lose control like that, it’s easier to see what they’re actually feeling.”
Julian frowned immediately, clearly intrigued but confused. “And how do I do that?”
“Go out together again,” he explained, his tone calm but deliberate. “But this time, purposely treat Sean better than Irwin. Make it obvious. Show the difference in how you act toward both of them.”
The other fell silent, thinking it through carefully, his expression shifting into that familiar analytical mode. He replayed the idea from different angles, testing its logic, weighing the possible outcomes like a case study.
Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah… that makes sense,” he admitted. “If they really do have some kind of issue with each other, seeing me get closer to only one of them might actually trigger something.” His face brightened suddenly, a grin spreading across his lips as he turned toward Miron. “I should’ve asked for your help from the beginning. You’re a lifesaver, bro!”
Miron supposed he should feel something about that. His own crush always referred to him like that; bro, friend.There was no hesitation, no second meaning behind it. But strangely enough, he felt indifferent.
Seven red hearts. More than Sean. More than Irwin. And yet, his chest felt calm.
Maybe those sayings were true after all; that sometimes, letting go quietly was also a form of love.
Miron smiled softly, pushing those thoughts aside before they lingered too long. Without another word, he reached down, picked up Julian’s controller from the floor, and held it out toward him.“Let’s resume our game, alright?” he said, his tone returning to something lighter. “You need something to relieve that overactive brain of yours.”
Julian laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took the controller back. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t cry when you lose.”
They shifted their attention back to the screen, the paused match springing back to life as their characters immediately resumed fighting. Buttons clicked rapidly, the room filling once again with the familiar sounds of combat effects and competitive energy.
For a while, things returned to normal.
Until—
“Wait,” Julian suddenly spoke up mid-match, his character once again taking unnecessary damage as his focus drifted. “Why specifically treating Sean more than Irwin?”
Miron closed his eyes slowly.
I’m sorry, God, he thought silently, pressing his thumb harder against the controller. You really wasted your gift on this person.