Chapter 4: The Weight of Expectations

The city had become predictable. Each day followed the same pattern—school, home, studying, housework, sleep. Ainz had long stopped expecting anything different.

But then, she entered his life.

It started as nothing. A fleeting moment. A small interaction in a world where Ainz barely spoke.

Her name was Narcy.

She was in his class but had never spoken to him before. Unlike most students who carried an air of privilege, Narcy had a quiet presence. She was friendly but not loud, kind but not overbearing.

The first time they spoke was in the library.

Ainz had been sitting at his usual spot near the window, lost in his books, when she slid into the seat across from him.

"You're always here," she said casually.

Ainz blinked, surprised that someone was speaking to him. He looked up, meeting her gaze. She wasn't teasing or mocking—just stating a fact.

"I like the quiet," he replied simply.

She smiled. "Me too."

And just like that, something shifted.

Narcy didn't try to force a friendship. She didn't push, didn't ask unnecessary questions. She simply existed in the same space as him.

At first, they only crossed paths in the library. She would sit nearby, sometimes reading, sometimes writing in a notebook. If their eyes met, she would give him a small smile, and he found himself nodding in response.

Then, one day, she spoke again.

"What are you reading?"

Ainz hesitated but eventually showed her the book. It was a collection of short stories—melancholic tales about people trapped in their own lives.

"Sounds depressing," she commented, flipping through the pages.

"It's realistic," Ainz said.

Narcy tilted her head. "Reality can be different, you know."

Ainz wanted to tell her that his reality wasn't something that could change so easily. But he didn't. Instead, he let her continue speaking, let her presence linger in his life.

Slowly, Narcy became a part of his routine.

They never labeled whatever was forming between them. It wasn't exactly friendship, but it was something. Ainz found himself looking forward to those quiet moments, those brief conversations.

For the first time in a long while, someone saw him.

She didn't treat him as a background character in the grand play of life. She didn't overlook his silence or assume he had nothing to say. She never pressured him to speak, but when he did, she listened—not just out of politeness, but as if his words mattered.

It was a strange feeling.

At home, he was a son. A provider-in-training. The quiet observer of his parents' struggles.

At school, he was invisible.

But with Narcy, he was… Ainz.

And yet, he couldn't shake the fear.

He had nothing to offer her.

His life was built on obligations, on responsibilities he couldn't escape. What place did romance have in a life like his?

Still, Narcy didn't go away.

And that scared him the most.

One evening, after another long day, Ainz sat in the library, flipping absentmindedly through a book he wasn't really reading.

Narcy sat across from him, as she often did. She didn't interrupt his silence, didn't force conversation. But after a while, she spoke.

"You always seem lost in thought," she said, watching him.

Ainz closed the book. "I think a lot."

"About what?"

He hesitated. No one had ever asked him that before.

His thoughts were messy, tangled in years of buried emotions, exhaustion, and unspoken fears. How could he even begin to explain?

"About the future," he finally said.

Narcy nodded as if she understood. "And what do you see?"

Ainz stared at the worn wooden table between them. "Nothing."

She didn't laugh, didn't brush it off like most people would. Instead, she rested her chin on her hand, thoughtful.

"I think about the future too," she admitted. "But it changes all the time."

Ainz frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Narcy shrugged. "Some days, I think about traveling the world. Other days, I want to write a book. And sometimes, I just want to sit in a quiet place and do nothing at all." She smiled. "I don't know what the future will be, but I like that it's uncertain. It means anything can happen."

Ainz wanted to tell her that his future wasn't uncertain. It was a path already set—wake up, work, earn, provide. Repeat. There was no space for change, no room for dreams.

But he didn't say that.

Instead, he let her words linger in his mind.

Could life really be more than just survival?

He didn't know.

But for the first time, he wanted to believe it could be.

Ainz never thought he would let himself care for someone, but Narcy had found a way into his life.

He was cautious. Always cautious. But she made things feel lighter, even if just for a moment.

And yet, deep down, a part of him feared that nothing good ever lasted.

He just didn't know how right he was.