chatime | ✧ — four seasons green tea.

RELOAD FROM SAVE FILE?
> YES.
~~> NO.~~

[ ~~> LET HIM GO.~~
> CATCH HIS WRIST.

you get no meta for now. keeps you on your toes. ]

… Is it really nothing? Doesn't seem like it.

[ It's lunchtime, Hien's favorite time of the day, because he likes sitting on a bench in the lone corner of the school's courtyard, munching on his own sandwich in peace. He sits with a friend who takes a bite of their croquette. This school is a little unique compared to the typical high school, in which people start their majors early and have the option to ascend into their elevator university if they choose to. It's also rich. Super, stinkin' rich. Their courtyard is expansive in which they hold many events, whether it's funded by the school or the clubs alone. Every day is a loud day where something is happening one way or another. The headmaster seems to be an eccentric in which they prioritize the life balance of school life and a social life.

Hien, a senior in high school, barely gets by his academics. In fact, he's on academic probation and doesn't have many friends. He's in danger of getting kicked out if he doesn't get a decent score on his next exams.

The fact that he can leisurely sit on the bench while eating his lunch without a care is quite something. It's as if he has no worries while eating his tenth tuna sandwich.

"I wonder who he'll be going out with this week? He's basically got a horde of fans trailing right behind him... must be nice to be popular."

His friend, Rion Branciere, speaks up as Hien watches. It's not as exaggerated as Rion put it to be, but the guy does seem to have a big group of friends. ]

The rising star of the guy from communications? That's what they all say, but is that even his major...

[ "Kinda like you, except he can actually excel in whatever major he's supposedly in?"

Hien elbows them in the side. They sputter.

"Watch it! This is my last croquette for a while! And besides, he probably just dumped his most recent date. Wouldn't it be like a fairy tale to date him. or something. A one-week fairytale. They're really the shallowest of the shallow." ]

If you're so invested in his dating life, why don't you go date him?

[ "Wow... killjoy. What else do you want to talk about? About how your ranking account got banned because you--"

Rion gets elbowed again. Ough... their side. Their food!

"You owe me five more croquettes after this." ]

I don't owe you shit.

SKIP TO NEXT CHOICE?
> YES.
~~> NO.~~

"I killed you."

"[…] I still lifted a blade against you, regardless if it was real or not."

[ in which i don't low roll and—

elysium's sword pierces thorns' heart clean. perhaps not on the first try, or even the second, but eventually—it does. hien can finds thorns emerging from the river in a way that might feel familiar: he's alone, his clothes marked with fresh slashes and punctures that could've only come from a sword. nearby, there's a clean change of clothes and a towel, which suggests he wasn't left entirely on his own… though it's still strange, considering the periods between returns and transitions into the new maze had always been characterised by lulls. either way, elysium is nowhere to be found.

if hien goes looking, he'll find elysium atop purrfect penance's rooftop, positioned just out of easy sight, eyes fixed on the 'sky' above. if he doesn't, well. that's what week six is for. ]

[ Some time in the middle of week 6, Hien sends Elysium a message. ]

have you been to the springs yet

[ time passes, as it always does. the weekend comes and goes, along with a plush and an assortment of sweets. the gift is thoughtful in the way money and effort can be thoughtful, carefully chosen, neatly presented, and with a price tag that can be flaunted, despite their status as students with no real jobs. no one's thinking that far, when all that matters is the objective value of it. still, despite that effort, people always find something to fault.

it isn't really about the gifts. it never is. luxury clothing, branded bags, high-end skincare and perfumes. elysium couldn't care less whether they make their way back to him. it's about what the glamour supposedly covers up—if he's their boyfriend, shouldn't he want to spend more time with them? shouldn't he be disappointed that he didn't come first?

it puts elysium in an awkward position. affection shouldn't have to be instructed, and being told what to do and following through is what it makes it feel false. he smiles anyway, easy and apologetic, because that's what he’s good at.

she frowns. she holds my melody to her chest and clarifies that she's the one breaking up with him, not the other way around. the rumours were right—he's too polished, too accommodating. in the end, fairytales are just that: he doesn’t seem to understand what makes relationships feel real. what does he actually want?

it's monday and elysium is once again running late. ]

✧ — week five, post-cyoa.

✧ — seven days au