Against the Algorithm

Chapter 16: Countermeasures

His gaze snapped back to her instantly—sharp, defensive. "I wasn't planning to."

She nodded, calm. "Good. Because there's nothing wrong with who she is. But—" Her voice lowered, firm again. "You need to be mindful. Protective. Watchful." There was a long pause. Then—carefully, deliberately— "Because she might not pick up on social cues the way you do. If someone cracks a dirty joke or makes a suggestive comment, she might not catch it. If someone's looking at her in a way she should be wary of, she might not realize it until it's too late."

Sicheng's jaw tightened. His fingers flexed once against the chair's arm. Because yes—he had already known that too. He had seen it when Yue teased her and she tilted her head, trying to puzzle through the implication. He had seen it when Pang threw out a joke layered with innuendo and she blinked, completely lost. He had seen it when a rival player had gotten too close during a post-game interview, and she hadn't even registered the way the man's eyes had drifted. She didn't see it. But he did. And now? Now it was confirmed. Validated.

"She's not naive," the doctor added gently. "She's not unintelligent. But she is... inexperienced. And when you pair that with her personality, it means she won't always recognize danger. Or intent. Not right away." She looked at him, her voice steady. "That's where you come in."

Sicheng exhaled through his nose. Low. Controlled. A sound that carried weight but no frustration—just acceptance. "I understand." Because if she wasn't going to see it, then he would. If she didn't know when to pull away, then he'd step between. If she didn't realize the moment something turned wrong, then he'd already be there, ensuring it never got that far. He wasn't going to protect her because she was weak. He was going to protect her because she didn't realize just how much strength she gave away—simply by existing as she was. And that?

That was a kind of innocence the world didn't deserve. But he'd make damn sure the world never got the chance to take it from her.

Back at the base, the usual buzz of banter and low conversation was absent, replaced by a quiet that felt too heavy to be coincidence. The day had stretched them all thinner than they wanted to admit—between the medical check-ups, the unexpected revelations, and the subtle fractures in dynamics none of them were ready for, it was a lot.

Yao stood near the edge of the room, her body half-turned as if unsure whether to stay or go. She shifted her weight subtly, fingers tugging lightly at the hem of her oversized hoodie, the fabric bunched in her grip the same way it always was when her thoughts were spiraling beneath the surface. Her voice, when it came, was soft. Measured. Quiet but certain. "I'm going to feed Da Bing and shower."

The words were mundane. Simple. A normal part of her day. But the hesitance that ghosted behind them—the way she didn't quite look at anyone when she said it, the way her shoulders tensed like she was waiting for someone to question her, to follow, to probe deeper—made it anything but.

Sicheng's response came immediately, and though his voice remained steady, something in it was heavier than usual. "Go on."

No argument. No teasing. No resistance.

Yao lingered for a second longer, then gave a small nod and quietly turned toward the stairs, her steps careful, her presence retreating into her sanctuary before anyone else could stop her.

And the second she disappeared—Sicheng moved. His posture shifted, the calm arrogance he wore like a second skin giving way to something harder. More controlled. The others felt it instantly.This wasn't just exhaustion. This was intent. Without needing to be told, they began to gather.