Chapter 93: The Right Path
"Why am I even bothered about this?"
The thought echoed through my mind like a stone dropped into still water, ripples spreading outward, disturbing the surface of my certainty.
I watched the scene unfold before me—the blue-haired girl hesitating, Nolan standing stiffly in the rain, the universe itself holding its breath for the inevitable meet-cute.
I’m not close with either of them. So why?
It wasn’t as if I had some moral obligation to disrupt every cliché I stumbled upon.
Although I’m not exactly fond of clichés or cringeworthy moments, is that really a valid reason to interfere?
Logic said no. This wasn’t like before, where Aeron’s avoidance of Emilia and Livia had been a matter of life and death. Or Zephyr needs help to improve his relationship with Luna. This was just... rain. An umbrella. A meet-cute that might lead to something, but it is obviously unrelated to me.
And rationally speaking...
It’s really not my place to intervene.
They were strangers. The girl—I didn’t even know her name. I’d only seen her once before, when I’d stopped Nolan from "tripping" into her arms a while ago.
Besides, the System isn’t forcing me with penalties or missions this time either.
No urgent notifications. No hidden scenarios. No consequences if I just... stepped back.
So why am I still having these thoughts?
A cold droplet slid down my neck, mingling with the unease settling in my chest.
Or... am I becoming too accustomed to intervening?
The realization hit me like a splash of icy water.
Had I gotten so used to disrupting narratives that I’d started doing it reflexively? Without even questioning whether it was necessary?
Did I forget my path? Or wasn’t firm enough to begin with?
But.. .
I squinted my eyes...
Even if I did something, the world is still trying to put everything back in its place anyway...
Like rain finding its way to the sea. Like this moment right now...
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
What’s the point, then?
The rain fell harder, drumming against the cobblestones, drowning out the noise of my thoughts.
Am I... really doing the right thing?
For the first time since I’d "arrived" in this world, I hesitated.
What if I just... do nothing?
No meddling. No scheming. No desperate attempts to rewrite the "script".
Let’s... just watch this time.
I exhaled, my grip on the spare umbrella loosening.
And so, I did nothing.
_______
The girl took a hesitant step forward, her fingers tightening around the umbrella’s handle.
"Excuse me," she called out, her voice cutting through the downpour. "You’ll catch a cold standing there."
Nolan turned, rainwater dripping from his red hair, his expression one of mild annoyance.
The girl extended the umbrella toward him. "You can share mine if you’d like."
For a moment, Nolan just stared at her. His crimson eyes flickered over her face, her outstretched hand, the simple kindness in her gesture.
Then his lips curled into a sneer.
"And why," he said, voice dripping with disdain, "would I share an umbrella with some commoner?"
The girl’s expression froze.
Nolan didn’t wait for a response. He flicked his soaked hair out of his face and strode past her, his cloak billowing dramatically despite the rain.
The girl’s outstretched hand trembled. Then, slowly, she lowered it.
Her face darkened.
"You—!" She whirled around, her blue hair whipping through the air. "You arrogant, insufferable—!"
But Nolan was already gone, vanishing into the storm without a backward glance.
The girl stood there for a moment, fists clenched, before huffing and marching off in the opposite direction.
Just like that, the moment passed.
No meet-cute. No forced romance.
And I...
I had done nothing.
_______
...
Maybe some stories were better left alone.
I thought as the rain continued to fall.
I stood in the doorway, watching as the two figures disappeared into the storm, their paths diverging as quickly as they’d crossed.
There were no System notifications, no hidden scenario completions.
Just... silence.
A strange weight settled in my chest—not relief, not regret, but something in between.
Had I been wrong all this time?
Had my constant meddling been unnecessary?
Or...
Had I just gotten lucky?
I didn’t know.
But for the first time, I wondered—
What happens if I stop trying to control everything?
The thought lingered, unanswered, as the rain washed the streets clean.
Is this really the path that I wanted to walk?
Was that truly a background character’s path?
A dry chuckle escaped my lips.
It seems like I need to review everything.
The rain-soaked streets blurred before me as I turned away from the doorway. Well, thankfully, I didn’t make any mistakes yet... I hope.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it?
I’d been acting on instinct—disrupting tropes, averting clichés, playing the unseen hand that nudged fate off its rails. But why? Because I could? Because I thought I knew better?
Had I been helping people, or just satisfying my own ego?
I sank into my chair, the wood groaning under my weight, and stared at the ceiling.
Time for an honest evaluation.
I closed my eyes, letting the memories surface like pages from a well-worn book.
From the beginning, then.
____The transfer student cliché I’d derailed on my first day.
The carriage incident and the noble in peril event, which led me to meet Cassandra.
Getting a job, getting involved with her.
The ball incident and saving the princess.
Aeron’s self-destructive spiral I’d interrupted.
Zephyr and Luna’s strained relationship I’d nudged forward. And now today, conning a moon elf prince into becoming a glorified janitor.
____
My fingers drummed against the desk’s worn surface. Each action had seemed justified in the moment. Necessary, even. But strung together like this...
A sigh escaped me. The inkwell reflected my tired expression, warped and wavering in its dark surface.
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, I reached a temporary conclusion:
I wasn’t wrong to act. But I’d been acting without proper boundaries.
Some events needed disrupting - like when lives hung in the balance or when people were being manipulated against their will. Others... were just the natural friction of human (and elven) interaction.
The difference, I realized, lay in harm. In consent. In genuine need rather than narrative inconvenience.
This must be the right path...