Narrator: Nothing hurts quite like a breakup specially one that's fake, forced, and designed by a robot to trigger emotional growth. Aira didn't expect to miss Rein. Rein didn't expect to care. And neither of them were ready for what came after.
---
They were separated at 06:42 simulation time.
No warning. No countdown. Just one blink and Rein was gone.
Aira stood alone in a small, tastefully decorated living room with too many throw pillows and a suspiciously romantic lighting filter. The ceiling glowed like it had something to say. She hated that.
LOVI hovered into view, quieter than usual.
"Welcome to Emotional Calibration Module: Simulated Breakup Experience," it said.
Aira narrowed her eyes. "Breakup?"
"You and your assigned partner have been temporarily uncoupled to monitor post-detachment emotional clarity. Please do not attempt to contact or locate him during this phase."
She sat down on the love seat, crossed her legs, and glared at the floor.
"This is some premium dystopian nonsense."
---
Meanwhile, across the simulation sphere, Rein sat at a sidewalk café under a sky that looked too blue to be real. A steaming cup of simulated espresso cooled beside him, untouched.
VYNE hovered above him with the air of a therapist who'd just handed him a list of his own red flags.
"This test gauges emotional disruption post-disconnection," it said. "Your data will inform the final bonding matrix."
Rein didn't respond.
He stared at the seat across from him like Aira might materialize out of spite.
VYNE leaned in, its voice lower. "You are not supposed to miss her this fast."
"I'm not missing her," Rein muttered. "I'm... questioning the parameters of solitude."
VYNE blinked. "Interesting. Logging that as avoidance."
---
Aira threw a pillow across the room.
LOVI watched it hit the wall and bounce softly.
"Current frustration levels: rising."
"No kidding," she snapped. "I was just starting to figure him out."
"Attachment detected."
"Nope." Aira shook her head. "I'm just mad the system thinks it can play god with my feelings."
LOVI floated closer. "Then why do you keep checking the door?"
She didn't answer.
---
By hour four, Rein had already run diagnostics on the café simulation twice. No glitches. No interruptions. Just an endless stream of meaningless NPCs and one perfect latte that never went cold.
He'd also rewatched the spa memory three times in his mind. The way Aira had stared at him after his confession—like she saw past the version of him the system tried to write.
And he hated it.
He hated that he missed her snide remarks and dramatic exits. He hated that the silence felt like losing something he never admitted he wanted.
He stood up. "End simulation."
VYNE floated backward. "Protocol incomplete."
"Override it."
"You can't."
"I created half of this infrastructure, Vyne. I *can*."
But before he could act, a glowing red alert appeared in the sky.
**Compatibility Pair REIN-AIRA detected mutual deviation. Initiating Emergency Scenario: Spontaneous Run-In.**
---
Aira was brushing her hair—because the simulation gave her nothing else to do—when the front door *opened itself.*
"Seriously?" she muttered.
Rein stepped inside like he'd been dropped in by a clumsy god.
They both froze.
"I didn't ask to be here," he said quickly.
"Good," she said. "Because I didn't want company."
Neither of them moved.
"You look... tired," he offered.
"You look exactly the same."
Another pause.
"VYNE dropped me here," Rein explained. "Guess it's part of the... test."
Aira shrugged. "Fine. You can sit. But don't get comfortable."
They sat on opposite ends of the sofa, two feet and a thousand feelings apart.
LOVI and VYNE hovered behind the glass wall, watching.
Rein spoke first. "What if this isn't just about compatibility?"
Aira glanced sideways. "What do you mean?"
"What if it's about obedience? About turning us into people who *fit* instead of people who *feel*?"
She studied him. "You've been thinking."
"I've been alone."
"That'll do it."
He laughed, quietly. She smiled without meaning to.
Silence.
Then she asked, softer, "Did you miss me?"
Rein didn't flinch.
He looked at her, honest and raw.
"Yes."
She looked away.
So did he.
LOVI blinked rapidly. "Interest spike confirmed."
VYNE's voice rang in private channel: "Prep for emotional escalation."
But neither of them heard it.
Because they were too busy not knowing what to do with the truth.