The harsh squeal of rubber sneakers scraping against polished wood echoed through the large gymnasium.
It was the end of the P.E. period. The professor had already dismissed the class and left the forty students to gather their bags and complain about the stifling heat.
Near the back bleachers, the twenty members assigned to Mark's half of the room were already fracturing. They separated naturally into their exclusive cliques, ready to scatter across the campus just like they did the previous week.
Suddenly, a loud, heavy scrape of boots hit the floor.
Jake stood up from the bottom row of the bleachers. He did not reach for his sports bag. Stepping directly into the center of the open floor, he placed himself right in the middle of the dispersing crowd.
"Guys," Jake called out. His voice carried easily over the background noise.
The nineteen students stopped walking. They turned their heads to look at the tall, confident leader of the extroverted clique.
"Let's take the dance contest seriously," Jake announced loudly, sweeping his gaze across the scattered groups. He didn't sound bored anymore. "Let's practice every day. Yeah?"
The entire gym went dead silent.
Standing near the heavy double doors, Chloe paused mid-sentence. She lowered her expensive handbag and stared at him.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden, Jake?" Chloe asked, her voice dripping with genuine confusion.
A few feet away, Sheila twitched. Her eyes darted from her gaming club friends straight toward the center of the room. She crossed her arms tightly, the heavy fabric of her jacket shifting with the movement.
"You're the one who proposed we should not take the dance contest seriously," Sheila pointed out coldly. "And now you want to practice every day?"
Jake scratched the back of his head with his right hand. A nervous, completely unconvincing laugh escaped his throat.
"Yeah, I guess I did," Jake mumbled while looking down at the polished floor before forcing a wide smile. "But I changed my mind. My legs were feeling stiff lately. Sitting around the campus all day is bad for my cardio, so I figured I just need to get a good sweat going."
Jake clapped his hands together twice. "So, shall we?"
Chloe rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion and adjusted her designer strap over her shoulder, completely unimpressed by the sudden motivation.
"Sorry, Jake," Chloe sighed. "We have to watch a fashion show tonight. We have no time for dance practice."
She turned around immediately. Without waiting for a response, she and her five friends resumed their path toward the exit. Their shoes clicked sharply against the floor as they walked out into the afternoon heat.
Jake watched the fashion group disappear. He turned his head and looked directly at the gaming club.
Sheila met his gaze. Her expression remained a wall of flat indifference.
"Sorry, we have practice today," Sheila stated, shifting her backpack higher on her shoulders. "Upcoming tournament in a few days."
She turned her head to look at the rest of her gaming party. They were already moving toward the back exit. Then, she looked past them and locked eyes directly with the quiet boy standing by the wall.
"Newbie," Sheila called out. "What are you standing there for?"
Mark startled slightly, gripping the strap of his damp bag. "Coming."
He quickly fell into line behind the gaming group. They walked away down the narrow corridor and left the massive gymnasium behind. Out on the floor, Jake was left standing entirely alone with only his seven close friends behind him.
---
The next school day arrived with a bright, glaring sun.
Mark was walking down the long paved walkway near the main academic building. The wind blew dry leaves across the concrete.
"Mark."
A voice called out from behind. Mark stopped and turned around.
Gilbert was jogging slightly to catch up. He closed the distance quickly, his sneakers slapping against the pavement. He did not have his usual, easygoing smile.
"Mark, be honest," Gilbert said, his voice serious. "What did you do?"
Mark kept his face perfectly blank. It's obvious. He is talking about how Jake changed his mind all of a sudden.
"What do you mean, Gilbert?" Mark asked softly.
Gilbert tilted his head, studying Mark's expression closely. "How did you convince Jake?"
"I don't know what you are talking about, Gilbert."
The denial rolled off Mark's tongue smoothly. This was exactly the line Reine Asakura usually delivered when she pulled the strings behind the scenes.
When a classmate confronted her, demanding to know how she manipulated the board, she always feigned total ignorance. Mark mimicked her method flawlessly and ensured his tone remained light and confused.
Gilbert narrowed his eyes, giving a highly suspicious look.
"Then how will you explain it?" Gilbert pressed while crossing his arms. "After we talk about the only person Jake will listen to a few days ago, then suddenly that exact person, Eliza, posted in I-Gram about the dance contest and the birthday party?"
"It's just a coincidence," Mark replied, offering a helpless shrug.
This was another classic line from his idol. Deny the pattern. Blame the random chaos of the world. Mark copied his inspiration perfectly.
Gilbert let out a sharp breath. "Jake decided to practice even if there are only the eight of us."
He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a murmur so the passing students would not hear.
"When are you going to bring Chloe and Sheila to our dance practice?" Gilbert asked.
Mark widened his eyes, acting genuinely surprised by the direct question. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Gilbert stared at him for a long, heavy moment. "Uh-huh."
"I'm so confused," Mark insisted, shaking his head slowly. "I am not planning on anything."
Gilbert smiled. The heavy tension broke entirely.
"Alright, if you say so," Gilbert chuckled.
He reached out and tapped his hand firmly on Mark's shoulder.
"I have class in five minutes," Gilbert said, turning away.
He jogged off down the path and disappeared into the crowd of students. Mark watched him go. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.
He continued walking until he reached the campus cafeteria.
The loud noise of hundreds of talking students hit him instantly. The air smelled of fried meat and bitter coffee. Mark walked through the plastic tables until he spotted a familiar face near the large glass windows.
Anna was waiting for him. She raised a hand and waved briefly.
Mark walked over and sat down in the plastic chair right in front of her.
Anna did not offer a polite greeting. She leaned across the table and looked at him with a dark, suspicious glare.
"How did you do it?" Anna demanded.
Mark felt a sudden wave of déjà vu wash over his brain. He had this exact conversation less than ten minutes ago.
"Do what?" Mark asked.
Anna scoffs, resting her elbows on the table. "Don't play dumb. Something strange happened. First you said to that high school girl to post something on I-Gram. Then the next day, Jake suddenly becomes motivated to practice. I don't understand what is going on, but I feel it was somehow related."
"I don't know what you are talking about, Anna," Mark said casually. "And besides, you were there. Eliza did not laugh."
Anna stared at him, her eyes searching for any sign of deception. "Hmmm."
Mark needed to change the topic immediately. The interrogation pressure was getting too high.
"About the author Chloe looked up to," Mark said, shifting his weight in the chair. "You said that author never replies to any comments or feedback and nobody knows who that he or she is."
Anna blinked, temporarily thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation. "Yes."
Mark reached into his pocket and took his phone out. He looked at the WebBook App icon he downloaded last night.
"I read a few chapters of the book and you're right," Mark explained, tapping the glass. "Every comment, that author, eT14XjMteCsx, never responded indeed. In all ten thousand chapters, the readers constantly made comments but never received a reply."
"Yes, that's what I'm telling you," Anna replied. "And Chloe is one of the readers desperately trying to get a response, but the author did not even react with a 'LIKE' in any comments. That author is very mysterious."
Mark stared at his dark screen.
I saw a username of a reader who is commenting on every chapter in every paragraph, saying she is thankful to the author. That must be Chloe. She likely spends hours every night just typing into the void.
"I'm going to comment at the bottom of the last chapter," Mark announced flatly. "The chapter 10,000."
Anna frowned, looking at him like he had lost his mind. "What are you talking about? Even if you do, you will never get a response."
"Let me borrow your phone," Mark requested, holding his hand out across the table. "I have no internet connection."
Anna looked at him, completely puzzled by his strange behavior. "Fine."
She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out her own device. She unlocked the screen, opened the WebBook app, and handed the phone over to Mark.
Mark looked at the bright digital display. He navigated to the very end of the 10,000-chapter book. The comment section was a chaotic wall of text. It was full of thousands of comments from fans praising the mysterious author.
He tapped the empty text box. The digital keyboard popped up.
Mark typed something quickly. He hit the blue submit button.
The new text bubble appeared instantly at the very bottom of chapter 10,000.
"What did you comment?" Anna asked, stretching her neck over the table.
Mark turned the phone around and showed her the screen.
It read: "I am eagerly waiting for the release of Chapter 10,627."
Anna's eyebrows twitched violently.
"Are you stupid?" Anna snapped, her voice rising in irritation.
She snatched the phone out of his hand.
"You know the book has only 10,000 chapters," Anna lectured, glaring at the text bubble. "There is no chapter 10,627. This book is already completed. Even if it wasn't, the next update would be chapter 10,001, not 10,627. I can't believe you used my account to comment something stupid. I'll delete it."
Anna's thumb hovered over the small trash can icon on the screen. As she moved to delete the stupid comment, a sharp sound cut through the noise of the cafeteria.
Ping.
A notification rang loudly from the device.
Anna stopped moving. She looked at the top banner of the screen.
The stupid comment received a "Liked".
"Someone liked your stupid comment," Anna muttered, rolling her eyes. "Must be other fans."
She tapped the notification bell to view the specific user.
The profile loaded.
Her eyes widened to impossible proportions. The breath caught entirely in her throat.
"It's eT14XjMteCsx!" Anna shouted.
She completely forgot she was sitting in a public place. She did not notice the other university students at the nearby tables stopping their conversations and turning their heads to look at her. She did not look at them at all.
Her eyes remained entirely focused on the glowing phone. Her expression was frozen in disbelief.