The room Ann entered was unlike any other in the trial. It wasn't dark, nor filled with symbols or traps. It was simply a quiet arena.
She stepped forward, then froze. Someone was standing in the center… his back turned… but she recognized that back immediately.
"…Ken?"
He turned slowly, his gray eyes were meeting hers, his red hair was shifting lightly, his expression cold as always.
"You're late,"
He said.
Ann's heart tightened for a moment, with half pain and half relief. She took a step, then another.
"Ken… how did you get here? You were—"
He raised a hand, cutting her off calmly:
"The system separated us. I came to make sure you're safe."
He approached her with measured steps. Ann was still confused, but something warm stirred in her chest.
"I was worried about you…"
Ken gave a small half-smile, then said:
"And you're fine now. That's enough for me."
Her face turned red immediately. She touched her cheek to hide her embarrassment, and failed miserably.
"H-how are you talking like this…?"
He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers, but his gaze strangely gentle. He reached out toward her shoulder.
"Ann… I was looking for you."
Her heartbeat sped up. For a moment she felt real happiness… happiness she hadn't expected in a stressful trial like this. But something… was wrong. Her body sensed it before her mind did.
'This isn't Ken. Because when Ken worries, he becomes quieter. When he cares, he becomes harsher… never softer. And when he comes close… it's never this easy.'
He lifted his other hand as if to stroke her hair.
"Ann… come here."
The illusion cracked. In Ken's eye… a faint swirl of black light flickered, barely visible. Ann noticed it just as his fingers were about to touch her.
Inside, she thought quickly:
'The real Ken… if he reached out to me like this, I'd faint before he even touched me! This isn't him!'
She pulled her foot back sharply.
"Stop! You're… not Ken!"
The fake Ken's expression shifted instantly, his gentle smile faded.
"Why did you pull away?" he asked quietly. "You were supposed to… get closer."
He tilted his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth curled into something inhuman. He stepped toward her again.
"Yes… I'm not Ken."
Ann's breath caught. He continued, voice low, carrying a strange sarcasm:
"But… I can do what you've always wanted Ken to do."
Her eyes widened. The fake raised his hand, no longer reaching for her hair, but her flushed cheek.
"I can come close the way you want him to."
He leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his artificial breath.
"I can even show you what it feels like to kiss him. Just one step… and I'll give you what you wish."
Something snapped inside Ann. Not embarrassment, but pure anger. Before he could close the last inch between them, she lifted her knee and kicked him in the stomach with full force.
"Ghh—!"
The fake Ken staggered back, clutching his abdomen.
Ann pointed at him sharply:
"Don't you dare try that on me again."
The fake lifted his head. Even through the pain he tried to reclaim his sly smile.
"Why? Isn't this what you wanted from Ken? For him to come close… to touch you… to—"
She cut him off with a furious shout:
"You're NOT Ken!!"
He stood with difficulty and tried fixing his hair in a cool manner… like an imitation.
"And what am I missing? The face? The voice? The mannerisms? I can be him… better than he is—"
"You don't resemble him at ALL!"
Ann yelled.
The fake Ken froze.
Ann put her hands on her hips, and said with a sharp voice:
"The real Ken doesn't smile like that. He doesn't talk like that. And he definitely doesn't come close like that! You idiot!"
The fake raised a brow, confused by the insult.
"…What?"
Ann clenched her fist.
"The real Ken never smiles! And that's one of the things I love about him! It's difficult! Like a challenge! And I love challenges!"
The fake's eyes widened slightly.
She stepped closer.
"And the real Ken… when he cares… he doesn't say romantic lines. He becomes harder. Quieter. He doesn't admit anything easily. And he NEVER looks at me with that stupid expression!"
She gestured toward his face with disdain.
"You're smiling like some cheap actor! But Ken… when his expression changes even half a degree, it feels like a huge achievement!" I want to be the one who makes the real Ken smile. That's the real challenge. Not some fake that gives me everything easily!"
His expression faltered. But he tried again, his voice got low and manipulative:
"And what if I can give you what Ken never will? The closeness… the care… the touch… the confession—"
Ann covered her mouth in disgust:
"Shut up! If the real Ken said any of that, I'd faint on the spot. And you? You're making me think of kicking you again."
The fake took an involuntary step back.
Ann advanced, and said with sharp eyes:
"If you think you can trick me… or give me cheap affection… you know NOTHING about me. I want the original Ken. The cold one. The harsh one. The one who won't say a sweet word even if he dies."
She smiled with fierce confidence.
"That's the type I like. And that's the one I'll make him fall for me someday."
The fake lifted his hand slowly, and a thin line of light opened in the air. A large screen formed in front of Ann, the image crystal clear:
The real Ken. His face was pale, sweat was running down his temple, his hand was gripping the bike's handle so tightly it might crack. He was gasping… gasping hard, his chest is rising and falling violently. Behind him, inside a wooden crate… Mabushi was lying half-conscious, his head was tilting, and his eyelids are heavy, his shoulder is wrapped in a bloodstained bandage. He looked exhausted beyond measure… close to collapsing.
Ann whispered:
"Ken…? Mabushi…?"
The fake spread his arms and said:
"Look closely. Ken isn't the cold hero you imagine."
He stepped toward the screen.
"He's barely holding on. Breathing like someone about to collapse. On the verge of falling off the bike… while time chases him."
Ann reached toward the glowing panel without realizing it:
"No… he's… not usually like this…"
The fake smirked darkly:
"And here you are… dreaming of a smile from him."
He leaned closer to the screen:
"And he can't even catch his breath."
Ken closed his eyes for a second from exhaustion… then forced them open and kept going. Ann let out a small gasp she couldn't hide.
The fake said quietly:
"Do you see now? The real Ken isn't always strong. Not always cold. And definitely… not as available to you as you think. If he really cared, he would have stayed with you in the challenge rooms. But he chose a different path. He left you… to save someone else."
He was trying to break her. But the sight of the real Ken pushing through exhaustion… Mabushi barely conscious… tightened Ann's resolve instead. The way Ken steered… the steel in his eyes despite the fatigue… the fierce determination.
"That's not weakness…"
Ann said sharply.
The fake blinked.
"…What?"
"That's Ken. The real Ken. He endures. He continues. Even when he's on the verge of falling." If someone else were in his place, they'd give up. But him? He breaks… then stands again. That's who he is."
She turned, gaze cutting through the fake.
"And you… you're just a cheap imitation who understands nothing about him."
Ann walked one step towards him, then another, then another. He retreated without realizing it, her words were cutting deeper than any attack.
She pointed directly at his chest and said:
"You're not even his shadow. The real Ken… I don't need a confession from him. His presence alone is enough."
His twisted smile faltered… then shattered.
"And I don't want a copy pretending to offer love. I want the version only Ken himself can be."
The illusion's face cracked, his form destabilizing. Ann lifted her hand and pushed him with a single finger against his chest.
"You… are nothing."
His body burst into black light, then crumbled like drifting ash, fading completely. As soon as he vanished, the floor shook beneath Ann's feet, and the final door opened.
She stood before it, drew a deep breath, brushed her short hair back as if he's reclaiming her confidence… and stepped through with steady resolve.
And that was how she cleared the trial of the "Fake Friend."