System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]

Chapter 164: Reflection in his dead eyes

Blake and Myles left the school gates together, neither of them speaking for the first few minutes.

The afternoon sun hung low enough to soften the heat, and the sidewalks were crowded with students heading home. Some laughed loudly, others scrolled through their phones, and bicycles occasionally rushed past.

Compared to the noise around them, the silence between Blake and Myles felt oddly comfortable.

"Blake."

"Yeah?"

"Do you need help at home?"

Blake raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

He looked up at Myles, genuinely confused.

’Why is he asking me that?’

His expression didn’t change, but his thoughts did.

’Did he figure anything out? But how would he manage to do that?’

The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion there was truly nothing to notice.

He’d hidden everything pretty well.

He used the incentive spirometer in the bathroom for about five minutes during lunch. It wasn’t exactly suspicious. Besides, Myles hadn’t followed him.

’Or at least, I hope that’s the case?’

Blake scratched the back of his neck before shrugging.

"Not really, I don’t need help. You don’t have to worry about my house’s state too much. I’m cleaning it just fine."

Myles watched him quietly.

"...Hm."

Blake frowned ever so slightly.

Since earlier that afternoon, more specifically since the confession, Myles had been acting a little strange.

He didn’t seem distant or upset.

Just, somehow a quieter than usual.

’But why?’

Blake couldn’t figure it out.

They reached the bus stop.

Neither of them said much while waiting.

When the bus finally arrived, Blake climbed aboard first and immediately occupied one of the single seats.

Myles remained standing beside him as always, one hand wrapped securely around the overhead handle.

Blake leaned back against the seat.

"Seriously, you really don’t have to worry about me."

He looked up.

"I’ve got everything under control."

Myles looked down at him, their eyes meetinh for several quiet seconds.

"..."

He knew Blake was actually injured, he knew every casual smile hid some kind of pain.

He knew Blake kept pretending everything was fine because he didn’t want him worrying.

And Myles also knew something else.

If he kept pressing, Blake would become stressed.

He’d start crying.

The thought alone made Myles’ chest tighten.

"..."

Just this once, he’d let it go.

What could go wrong?

He never had this kind of mentality, he faced problems he could face without massive consequences head on.

"Alright."

Before Blake could answer, the bus suddenly hit the brakes.

SCREEECH!

Everything lurched forward.

Blake’s eyes widened.

His body pitched ahead, his forehead seconds away from slamming into the plastic seat in front of him.

Before it could happen, a firm hand caught the back of his head, while another steadied his shoulder. So, the impact never came.

’I seriously aspire to have these reflexes...’

His palm remained against the back of Blake’s head until the bus completely stopped shaking.

Only then did he speak.

"Alright, I’ll leave you then."

Blake let out a slow breath.

"Thanks."

Smiling softly, he reached up and lightly held the hand still supporting him.

Myles looked down at their hands.

"..."

Then quietly withdrew his own.

Several stops later, Blake stood.

"Here it is."

The bus doors hissed open.

Blake stepped onto the sidewalk and waved over his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you."

The doors closed, and the bus pulled away.

Blake grew smaller through the window with every passing second.

Yet, Myles couldn’t stop watching him.

Even after Blake should’ve disappeared from sight.

Even after the buildings blocked the view.

He still stared toward where Blake had been.

Something wasn’t right.

There was an unfamiliar sensation pressing against the back of his mind.

A quiet instinct, a feeling he couldn’t explain.

’Don’t go.’

The thought appeared without reason.

’Stay with me.’

His fingers tightened unconsciously around the overhead handle.

’Don’t leave.’

Nothing was wrong.

Blake had smiled.

They’d talked.

Everything had gone well today.

Then why did every part of him want to get off the bus and follow?

Myles slowly lowered his eyes.

He didn’t understand.

Meanwhile...

Blake walked home at an easy pace.

The day’s exhaustion was finally catching up with him.

Every breath reminded him of his ribs.

Not unbearable.

Just, persistent.

He couldn’t wait to lie down properly.

"..."

Still, today hadn’t been bad.

Actually, it had been one of the better days recently.

Seeing Myles again after everything that had happened...

Talking normally, laughing, one-sidedly getting embarrassed.

It felt nice.

Blake smiled to himself.

The confession had been humiliating enough.

"’Go further...’

Blake groaned, rubbing both hands over his burning face.

’He never struck me as the perverted type.’

He shook his head, his ears somehow growing even redder.

Eventually, the familiar apartment complex came into view.

The sidewalks here were almost always empty.

Few people walked around this time of day.

It was peaceful and quiet.

As he approached the entrance...

Rustle.

His head turned automatically.

"Hm?"

Near one of the narrow side hallways between the apartment buildings, a tiny movement disturbed a bush.

A moment later, a small cat cautiously stepped out.

"Oh."

Blake smiled immediately.

It was tiny, orange and white.

"You’re such a cutie."

The cat didn’t run.

Instead, it simply watched him.

"..."

Blake chuckled.

"You remind me of that cat."

The one he’d found with Myles that evening.

This kitten looked similar.

Just, smaller, because it was younger.

He slowly walked closer.

"C’mere."

The kitten stayed put.

Blake crouched down carefully, mindful of his ribs.

"Good kitty..."

He extended a hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, the kitten leaned forward just enough for Blake to gently stroke its head.

"There you go."

Its fur was surprisingly soft.

"You’re not scared at all, what a good boy."

The kitten blinked.

Blake laughed under his breath.

"I wish I could stay, but I really need to go rest."

He gave it one last gentle pat before standing, his ribs protesting immediately.

"Ow."

He turned around.

Took one step.

Then, something moved fast behind him.

Before Blake could even react, an arm wrapped tightly around him from behind.

"Wha—?!"

A gloved hand slammed a cloth over his mouth and nose.

A sharp, chemical smell flooded his senses.

His eyes widened.

’What!’

His heartbeat exploded.

’Who?!’

Blake immediately struggled.

He threw his elbow backward.

Twisted violently.

Tried to pull the cloth away, but he was already getting weak.

His captor held firm, so his breathing became frantic.

The strange scent invaded his lungs.

His vision blurred almost instantly.

"No!"

His voice never escaped the cloth, he kicked backward, thrashed, reaching desperately for the hand covering his face.

’Who is this?! Who?!’

Then, a crushing pressure suddenly dug into his side.

Right against the fractured ribs.

"Agh!"

Pain exploded through his chest.

White-hot.

Blinding.

His body froze.

The agony stole every ounce of strength from his muscles.

He couldn’t struggle anymore.

Every attempt to move sent another wave of unbearable pain through his ribs.

The world tilted.

His vision doubled.

The apartment buildings stretched strangely.

His knees buckled.

His fingers became numb.

The sounds around him drifted farther away.

The last thing Blake remembered...

Was desperately trying to turn his head.

Trying, trying to see...

’Who...’

...

Darkness swallowed him whole.

***

It was cold and dark.

"..."

Blake slowly opened his eyes, he already knew he wasn’t in the real world.

He couldn’t control himself.

His feet moved on their own.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Ahead...

A body lay motionless on the ground.

He stopped several meters away.

"..."

He didn’t want to get closer.

He already knew.

He already knew whose body it was.

Still, his legs carried him forward, one trembling step at a time.

"..."

Until he stood beside it.

The real Blake.

Lying perfectly still.

A single gunshot wound rested over where his heart should have been.

The blood beneath him had long since dried.

Everything was silent.

"..."

Blake slowly knelt.

His hands trembled uncontrollably.

"..."

He reached out.

His fingertips brushed the body’s arm.

Cold.

So impossibly cold.

Not simply skin that had lost warmth.

It felt...

Empty.

Like touching stone abandoned beneath winter snow.

Blake swallowed hard.

’...’

His chest hurt.

The words escaped before he even realized he’d spoken them.

Behind him, he could hear footsteps, which made him stiffen.

The shadow was here again and, like before, he couldn’t see its face.

Only its outline.

Standing over both of them.

Looking down.

The shadow spoke.

Its voice was distorted.

Words came out...

Yet none of them made sense.

Fragments.

Whispers.

Sounds that should have been language but weren’t.

Blake tried to understand.

He couldn’t.

Not a single word.

"..."

His vision blurred.

Tears gathered despite himself.

’Please...’

He didn’t even know who he was begging.

Then, something changed.

The body moved.

Without anyone touching it.

Without making a sound.

The real Blake slowly rolled onto his back.

His dead eyes opened.

They stared straight upward.

Empty.

Clouded.

Lifeless.

Blake couldn’t breathe.

His own gaze dropped instinctively toward those frozen eyes.

Toward the reflection captured inside them.

And in those vacant, glass-like pupils...

He saw the silhouette of someone standing above the body.

His breath caught.

The reflected figure slowly became clearer, and Blake stared in horror at whoever it was...