Paradox The Life Circle

For the first time in his life, Ainz allowed himself to believe in something.

It wasn't much—just fleeting moments of warmth, stolen conversations, and a quiet presence that made the weight on his shoulders feel a little lighter.

Narcy had become that presence.

She wasn't just another face in the crowd anymore. She was someone who had stepped into his world and made him think, even for a moment, that life could be more than just survival.

And that was his mistake.

Because life had never given him anything without taking something back.

It started slowly.

Ainz had always been cautious with his feelings, never allowing himself the luxury of hope, of wanting something he couldn't afford. But with Narcy, things felt different. She wasn't like the others in his life—there was something genuine about her. She understood him in ways no one else ever had.

At first, it was simple. They talked. They shared a quiet, unspoken understanding. It wasn't a friendship like the ones he had known—there was something more, something unsaid that lingered between them.

She didn't pressure him, didn't ask for more than he was willing to give.

When he didn't want to talk, she let him be.

When he opened up, even if only a little, she listened as if it mattered.

She made him feel like he wasn't invisible in a world full of shadows. She made him feel seen.

Ainz wanted to believe in it. Wanted to believe that, for once, someone could care for him without any ulterior motive, without the weight of his obligations.

He felt a soft hope blooming in his chest—a hope he knew could never survive the harsh reality he lived in, but it didn't matter. For once, it felt real.

But something changed.

At first, it was subtle—a fleeting shift in her demeanor, the way her smile seemed to waver when it met his eyes.

Ainz, being the person he was, tried to ignore it. Maybe he was over thinking. He told himself that he was being paranoid, that his old patterns of caution were making him see things that weren't there.

Narcy was still there, wasn't she?

Still talking to him, still laughing at his dry jokes, still sharing those moments that made the world seem a little less heavy.

But then it started.

The small signs that Ainz had once ignored became harder to ignore. Narcy's presence began to feel more distant, as if she was no longer fully invested in their quiet exchanges.

She would look at him, but the warmth in her gaze had turned cold, distant, like she was looking right past him. There were moments when he would catch her glancing at someone else in the room, her eyes lingering a little too long.

And then there were the late nights.

The times when she wouldn't be in the library, when she wouldn't show up at their usual spot. He told himself it was nothing, that she was just busy, that maybe she needed space.

But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

One day, after another long day of classes and endless thoughts that weighed him down, Ainz found himself standing in a hallway of the school he had come to loathe. His eyes wandered over the rows of empty lockers and classrooms, and for once, he didn't head straight for the library. Something was gnawing at him, something he couldn't ignore any longer.

That's when he heard it.

Voices.

Ainz wasn't eavesdropping, but the words seemed to find him anyway.

He hesitated, looking down the hallway where he saw Narcy talking to someone. The voice was familiar—his friend.

The one person who had occasionally crossed paths with Ainz during the years at school. They'd shared a few conversations, but there was nothing particularly significant about their interactions.

Or so Ainz thought.

He stood still, frozen for a moment.

The conversation between Narcy and his friend was casual, too casual. Ainz could hear their laughter echoing through the hall, and for a moment, it felt like everything around him disappeared.

It wasn't just laughter—it was familiar, intimate, a sound he hadn't expected to hear.

He should've walked away. He should've turned back and left, pretended like he hadn't heard anything. But he didn't.

He couldn't.

It was like his feet were stuck to the floor, unable to move as he watched them. Narcy was standing too close to his friend, her body angled toward him in a way that made Ainz's stomach twist. He swallowed, trying to ignore the rising discomfort in his chest.

Then it happened.

His friend leaned in, his hands gently brushing against Narcy's arm. She didn't pull away. She didn't hesitate.

Narcy smiled, and without any hesitation, she kissed him.

It was a soft, fleeting kiss. But it felt like a punch to Ainz's gut.

His mind raced. The world seemed to go still. For a long, terrible moment, Ainz couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

He had seen it. He had seen it.

Narcy, the person he had let himself trust, had kissed someone else. His friend, the person who he had known, someone who he'd thought was an ally.

Ainz couldn't stop the flood of emotions that hit him all at once. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal.

He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything except watch as Narcy pulled away from his friend, smiling as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just shattered something fragile in him that he had allowed himself to believe in.

He didn't confront her.

He couldn't.

He couldn't find the words to express the suffocating weight of betrayal, the crushing realization that the one person who had made him feel seen had just used him. He couldn't face the fact that he had been nothing more than a placeholder, a brief distraction for her when it suited her.

He turned and walked away, not looking back, not daring to.

He wasn't sure how he made it out of the school building that day, how his legs carried him as if they had a mind of their own. Everything around him was a blur, a cold, disorienting landscape. His heart was heavy with the weight of something he had never imagined—he had been used.

That was all.

The days that followed were silent.

Narcy didn't approach him. She didn't ask him why he stopped coming to the library, didn't try to explain herself. And maybe that was the worst part of all—the indifference, the way she had simply moved on as if nothing had ever mattered between them.

Ainz kept his distance from everyone, including his friend, who was now a stranger. The realization that the world had always been this way—nothing but a cycle of use and discard—became clear to him in the silence that followed.

And so, he continued, the weight of his life dragging him forward. He buried the hurt, the confusion, the doubt, and returned to his routines.

He knew one thing for certain: nothing good ever lasted. He should have known. He should have never allowed himself to believe that it could.

Nothing but duty.

Nothing but survival.

That was all his life had ever been. And that was all it would ever be.