The meeting finally ended at around one in the afternoon. Almost four straight hours spent sitting inside the meeting hall.
Representatives began filing out one by one, some heading directly toward the reception area while others left the building altogether to attend to their own schedules.
As for the three of us, we stayed seated until only a handful of people remained inside the hall.
There was no point squeezing through the crowd just to get out a little earlier.
Fran tucked her phone and notepad away before glancing toward the Disvinadiya girl, who was beginning to make her way down from her seat. Beside me, Anathasia stretched both arms above her head and let out a long yawn.
"Meetings really are genuinely boring..." she murmured.
A second later, she leaned against my shoulder for no apparent reason.
"I don't even feel like going around trying food anymore."
Still grumbling under her breath, she absentmindedly wrapped a strand of my hair around her finger and stared into space.
"That's just how meetings are," I replied.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I gently stroked her hair before lightly tugging her cheek.
"You'd probably fall asleep halfway through a shareholders' meeting if someone ever made you sit through one."
"If it's this boring? Absolutely."
She answered without even a second of hesitation.
"That's why I said I wasn't made for administrative stuff."
Her voice slowed as she stared blankly toward the opposite side of the hall.
"I'm supposed to be a..."
She paused dramatically.
"Cute, beautiful wife."
Silence.
A slow sigh escaped me. Not annoyance. Just quiet, familiar exasperation. Shaking my head lightly, I leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against her temple.
"Yes, yes."
A chuckle slipped from my lips.
"We should probably leave before Fran starts vomiting."
Anathasia immediately lifted her head from my shoulder.
The moment she turned around, she found Fran already staring at us with an expression balanced perfectly between disappointment and exhaustion.
Fran slowly blinked.
Then sighed.
"Can I just go ahead first?"
She adjusted the strap of her bag.
"I wanted to meet the Disvinadiya person earlier."
At that, Anathasia straightened herself and sat properly. A small smile appeared on her face as Fran stood in front of us, clearly ready to leave.
"Sure," Anathasia replied.
"Let's meet up later in the executive room near the lobby, okay?"
Fran nodded.
Without another word, she turned and began making her way down the stairs from where we were seated.
The moment she disappeared into the crowd below, Anathasia stood as well. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
"We should probably go too."
She looked back over her shoulder, a smile curving on her lips.
"We still have places to be, after all."
I simply nodded and followed behind her.
Even while holding my hand, she continued talking.
"Honestly..."
She glanced ahead.
"Authors are weird people, so meeting one isn't really a good idea."
She shrugged.
"Normally we'd be safe, though."
"They avoid us on purpose."
"Are we some kind of chemical hazard that they have to consciously stay away from?"
I raised an eyebrow as we crossed the red carpet. My free hand slipped into my pocket while I matched her pace.
"Worse, actually."
A brief laugh escaped her.
"I'm something they can't define."
She pointed at herself.
"That's an immediate red flag for definers, narrators, conceptual architects... pretty much anyone whose existence revolves around assigning meaning to things."
Then she shot me a quick glance.
"And you?"
Her smile widened slightly.
"You're basically their nightmare."
"Because of Logos?"
"Because of you invalidating Logos."
She nodded.
"Invalidation too as a whole."
"Most of them need writing to create things."
Her hand moved vaguely through the air.
"Stories. Concepts. Structures."
Another shrug.
"You're basically the embodiment of 'No.'"
My eyes narrowed slightly as we continued walking.
By the time we exited the hall and headed toward the executive room where we planned to meet Fran again, the surrounding noise had already returned.
Conversations filled the corridors.
Representatives from different schools were introducing themselves, exchanging contacts, and getting to know one another.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Fran already speaking with the silver-haired Disvinadiya girl.
She was smiling.
The other girl seemed to be trying her best to smile back. My attention shifted toward Anathasia as we entered the executive room.
"Who's this Primordial Supreme Author anyway?"
I tilted my head slightly.
"The title sounds important."
A pause.
"Maybe a little too grand."
"It's Rhea."
The answer came instantly. As she spoke, her clothes shifted.
The gothic dress she'd been wearing earlier dissolved into a cardigan layered over a simple shirt, paired with a long flowing skirt.
At the same time, my tailored suit faded away as well, replaced by the familiar shirt and slacks I usually wore back home.
Anathasia turned toward me and casually sank into one of the chairs.
"It's another one of her titles."
She rested her chin on her palm.
"Though I'm pretty sure she doesn't care about it at all."
A small shrug followed.
"It's a title the other Authors gave her."
Then she leaned back in her chair.
"You could say she's their God."
She crossed her legs while I settled into the seat across from her, the coffee table resting between us.
"On the other hand, you and I are basically... four-zero-four not found in their eyes."
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"They can point at us with placeholders like Source or Constant, but they can never actually define us."
"In other words..." I leaned back against the seat and gestured toward her with a finger.
"You're beyond definition, and I'm—"
"Anti-definition. Yup."
She immediately finished the sentence, pointing back at me with her index finger.
"That's why even if they tried editing what we were back then, it wouldn't work."
She shrugged.
"There's nothing for them to target in the first place."
Then she turned toward me completely. Both hands planted firmly on the table as she leaned forward.
"Which is why we should get takoyaki right this instant."
The moment those words left her mouth, my expression shifted from thoughtful contemplation to immediate dryness. Slowly, very slowly, my eyes drifted toward her.
"Seriously...?"
"What?"
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
"I'm hungry."
Then she waved a hand dismissively.
"And besides, what we are doesn't even matter here, does it?"
Her gaze met mine.
"We're still parents."
One finger rose.
"We're still best friends."
A second followed.
"We're still married."
Then a third.
"And we still choose each other every single day."
She lowered her hand again before flashing me a grin.
"That's what matters, right?"
A small shrug followed.
"Sure, Authors avoid us."
"But does that actually change anything about us?"
She answered her own question immediately.
"No, right?"
"So let's get takoyaki once Fran gets back."
"Girl..."
A sigh of exasperation escaped me as I rubbed my temple. Yet despite myself, a smile still tugged at the corners of my lips.
"You're seriously unpredictable."
I shook my head.
"Not that I'm complaining, but still unpredictable."
She simply hummed in response.
As though she hadn't just gone from discussing cosmological entities and narrative architecture to craving takoyaki within the span of thirty seconds.
—
Moments later, the door opened again.
Fran stepped inside with a smile on her face.
Anathasia, who had been scrolling through her phone the entire time, immediately looked up. The moment she saw Fran, her expression softened. Fran walked over and took a seat between us.
"How'd it go?"
I leaned forward slightly as Fran pulled out her phone. She unlocked it before briefly turning the screen toward us.
"I got her socials."
Then she pulled it back.
"Apparently she already knew who I was too."
Fran tilted her head slightly.
"Something about being a good leader or whatever."
She paused.
Then her smile widened a little.
"But after talking to her and getting a closer look..."
Anathasia and I exchanged a glance. Both of us raised an eyebrow as we waited for her to continue.
Fran clasped her hands together.
"She really is pretty."
Silence.
For a brief moment, both Anathasia and I were caught completely off guard.
Though Anathasia recovered first. Unfortunately, her expression immediately darkened. And I already had a pretty good idea why.
"There's also this... stable feeling around her."
Fran rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully.
"Like she's really grounded."
She looked toward me and smiled.
"Actually, it kind of reminds me of Dad."
The moment those words left her mouth, Anathasia's face shifted from dark to completely pale.
And then—
Despite Fran continuing her explanation, A voice suddenly echoed inside my head.
[No...]
I blinked.
[What do you mean no?]
Anathasia immediately turned toward me.
She wasn't saying anything aloud. But inside my head? She was already spiraling.
[Our little Fran might've just fallen in love at first sight...!]
[This doesn't make any sense!]
[She's supposed to be discussing leadership and student councils!]
[How did we get to 'she's pretty' already?!]
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Completely horrified.
And somehow, despite being someone capable of discussing things and truths beyond definition itself...
Anathasia looked exactly like a mom having a crisis.