Against the Algorithm

Chapter 19: The Cost of Chaos

And Yao?

Still typing. Still focused. Still pretending not to hear any of it.

But Sicheng saw it—the way her fingers began to hesitate, the way her shoulders tensed with increasing frequency, the way she paused every few seconds to lift her head and shoot a subtle glance in the direction of the chaos, the way her brows began to pinch slightly as Kwon's voice rose another octave.

She was getting annoyed.

Visibly.

Adorably.

And then—

Finally—

She snapped.

Before anyone could stop her, before she could stop herself, before she even realized she had made the decision, she stood abruptly from her desk, chair sliding back with a scrape, and turned to face the room, arms rising, hands planting themselves firmly on her hips in the universal stance of a woman done playing nice. Her voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and exasperated and just high-pitched enough to make Pang snort into his sleeve.

"Are you even listening to Coach Kwon?!"

The room froze.

Sicheng, half-expecting it, barely turned his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement as he watched her begin to unravel.

Lao K, always the calm one, shrugged lazily. "We're listening."

"No, you're not !" she snapped, her foot stomping once, the oversized hoodie bouncing with the motion as she puffed up like an angry kitten trying to look like a lion. "If you were listening, you wouldn't be whispering, or yawning, or— or staring at the ceiling! " Her gaze zeroed in on Lao K with deadly accuracy.

Lao Mao, biting the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing, folded his arms. "Then tell us what he said."

Yao huffed, her face flushed, her fists clenching slightly at her sides. "He said you're not staying on track! He said you keep getting distracted! He said you're wasting everyone's time— my time—because I spend hours— hours —breaking down your matches, writing reports, making recommendations, and if you don't listen , then what is the point?! " Her voice cracked slightly at the end, half from emotion, half from the rising frustration she'd been holding in, and Sicheng, still watching with a thinly veiled smirk, exchanged a look with Lao K that said it all.

There she is.

Because they'd planned this.

Not maliciously.

Just strategically.

They'd let it get a little loud. Let Kwon's voice go ignored. Let the room get just messy enough to see if she'd still jump in. And she had. Not even realizing she'd stepped straight back into her role—not just as their analyst, but as their scolding, exasperated, far-too-invested little sister who couldn't stand to watch them waste their own potential.

"You're impossible! " she snapped, throwing her hands in the air, hoodie sleeves flapping dramatically.

Sicheng, finally giving in to the amusement that had been simmering under the surface, tilted his head and said smoothly, "And you're loud."

" You—! " Yao whipped toward him, outrage flaring in her expression. But she never got the chance to finish.

Because Lao Mao snorted.