Against the Algorithm

Chapter 64: Before the Game Began

Kaya tilted her head. She didn't smile. But she didn't look away, either. And when she finally responded, it was in a tone Jinyang would later call her corporate curiosity voice. "I see," Kaya said. "And how long have you known Jinyang?"

Yao hesitated, then lifted her eyes and answered with more strength than Kaya expected.

"Since she tried to fight six girls, for picking me on...five months ago.....because I...recently...um moved here...from the states...and they do not like...that I am only...half Chinese."

Kaya blinked.

Jinyang beamed. "She's been stuck with me ever since."

Kazime, from the archway behind them, laughed softly under his breath. "She looks like she's still in recovery."

Yao turned bright red.

Kaya watched the flush rise in her cheeks and the way her hands disappeared deeper into the sleeves of her sweater and something subtle shifted in her expression. Not amusement. Not fondness. But recognition. This girl, shy and quiet and dressed like she'd lost a battle with a clothes dryer, had not come here to charm anyone. She'd come because Jinyang had pulled her by the wrist and refused to let her stay in the dark. And she was still here—still standing. Still watching. Still breathing.

Kaya nodded once. "Come in, then," she said simply. "If Jinyang's declared best friend rights, you may as well find a chair that won't give you splinters."

Yao blinked slowly with a flustered look, "...Yes, ma'am."

Kaya paused, then added, without looking back, "You can drop the ma'am."

Yao's voice was a whisper. "...Sorry." She followed Jinyang through the archway, still tucked into her sweater, still blushing furiously but her chin was a little higher.

And that was the moment, Kaya would later admit, when she'd decided that this small, flustered girl with quiet eyes and too-big sleeves would one day own something very few people ever did. Her full attention.

Second Flashback:

It had been a quiet afternoon—cool breeze drifting through the open terrace windows of the Chen estate, the kind of soft, unremarkable day that didn't warn you it was about to shift something fundamental in the way people moved around each other.

Kaya had been reviewing a proposal from one of the family's overseas holdings when she'd heard the sound—small, muffled, the barest sniffle from the corner of the room. She didn't look up at first. Not because she hadn't heard it, but because she knew that kind of sound. The kind that wasn't meant to be witnessed. The kind that only escaped when someone had already spent far too long trying to keep it quiet. But when it came again, just a little sharper, she turned her head.

Yao sat curled in one of the wide reading chairs near the edge of the terrace, her knees pulled up to her chest, sweater sleeves once again covering her hands—this time, not out of modesty or nerves, but because she was clutching them tightly to her mouth. Her braid was loose today, a few strands stuck to the side of her cheek from where she'd clearly swiped at her face.

She didn't notice Kaya watching her.

Not until Kazime entered the room. He'd come in with a drink in hand, his voice casual, saying something about meeting minutes—and then stopped mid-step. His gaze locked on Yao instantly.