The café was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that made every sound feel sharper. The hiss of the espresso machine. The soft clink of ceramic cups. The scratch of pencil on paper. Isabelle sat across from Ethan, her sketchbook open, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes. She was drawing a new onboarding screen—one that felt warmer, more human.
Ethan watched her, his laptop open but untouched. His mind wasn't on the code. It was on the question he knew was coming.
She hadn't said much since they sat down. Just a nod, a smile, a few comments about color palettes. But her eyes kept flicking toward him, like she was trying to read something beneath the surface.
Finally, she set her pencil down and looked at him.
"Ethan," she said softly, "can I ask you something?"
He nodded, bracing himself.
"How do you know all this?"
He didn't answer right away. He could feel the System pulsing in the back of his mind, waiting, watching.
"You always know what works," Isabelle continued. "You predict feedback before it happens. You talk like you've already lived through this. And it's not just intuition. It's something else."
Ethan looked down at his hands. They were steady. Too steady.
"I've studied a lot," he said.
She shook her head. "That's not it."
He met her gaze. "What are you asking me?"
"I'm asking if you're hiding something," she said. "Something big."
The words hung in the air like fog. Ethan felt the weight of them settle in his chest. He could lie. He could deflect. But she deserved more than that.
"I died," he said quietly.
Isabelle blinked. "What?"
"In 2015," Ethan said. "I was thirty-seven. CEO of a tech company. I failed. I fell. And then I woke up here. Seventeen again. In Sapporo. With a system in my head that gave me a second chance."
She stared at him, her expression unreadable.
"I know it sounds insane," Ethan said. "But it's real. The System tracks everything—money, decisions, relationships. It gives me modules, forecasts, tools. It's why I knew how to build StudySync. Why I knew what feedback we'd get. Why I knew Kaito Murase would try to sabotage us."
Isabelle didn't speak. She just looked at him, eyes wide, searching.
"I didn't want to tell you," Ethan said. "Because I didn't want you to think I was using you. Or that you were just part of some algorithm."
She leaned back slowly, processing. "So... you're from the future?"
"Sort of," Ethan said. "I remember the future. But I'm living this timeline now. And it's different. Because you're in it."
She looked down at her sketchbook. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"I don't know what to say," she whispered.
"You don't have to say anything," Ethan said. "I just needed you to know."
There was a long silence. Then Isabelle closed her sketchbook and stood.
"I need time," she said. "To think. To breathe."
Ethan nodded. "Take all the time you need."
She walked out of the café, her steps slow, her shoulders tense. Ethan sat alone, the System pulsing softly.
[Emotional Anchor Status: Unstable]
Risk Level: Elevated
Suggested Action: Reconnect Carefully
He closed the interface. He didn't need a prompt to tell him what he already felt.
He might have just lost her.