This is my fifth attempt to save Johnny, the tragic supporting male lead.

When the System’s cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind—

**[World Reset Complete. Task: Save Supporting Male Lead Johnny. Host Leah, please begin your fifth attempt.]**

—I lay still, feeling the renewed vitality of this seventeen-year-old body, my heart a barren wasteland.

Four times.

Four whole times, I poured all my passion, love, and life into Johnny.

Now this was the fifth.

I was tired. Truly tired.

Save Johnny?

No. This time, I just wanted to save myself.

……

“Leah! What are you zoning out for? Go help Johnny!”

My deskmate’s urgent shove pulled me from my memories.

Outside the window, in the alley behind the school, a group of slack-jawed bullies in baggy uniforms had surrounded a slender boy.

That boy was Johnny. He wore a faded uniform, his back ramrod straight. Even as they shoved him, his face showed no fear—only numb endurance.

This was where the story always began.

According to the script from my four previous runs, I should have charged down like a heroine, shielding him with my own thin frame, then scaring off those bullies with righteous fury.

Johnny would notice me because of it. Our story would start there.

But this time, I just glanced faintly toward the alley, then looked away, laying my head back down on the desk.

My deskmate froze. “Leah? What’s wrong? That’s Johnny!”

I closed my eyes, exhaustion seeping into my voice. “What’s it got to do with me?”

Yeah. What did it have to do with me?

I’d taken a knife for him. Lost a child for him. Mourned him as a widow. Gone mad for him.

And in the end, the light he yearned for was never me.

**[Warning! Host behavior deviating from main task! Proceed to rescue immediately!]**

The System’s alarm blared sharply in my mind.

I acted as though I hadn’t heard. I even rolled over, covering my ears with my arm.

Let someone else save him. I wasn’t doing it anymore.

Maybe my uncharacteristic coldness worked. Both my deskmate and the System fell silent.

I don’t know how much time passed before the class bell rang.

The bullies scattered, cursing. Johnny stood alone at the mouth of the alley. He looked up, his gaze landing precisely on our classroom window.

I could feel it. He was looking at me.

His eyes held a trace of confusion, so slight it was almost imperceptible, as if he couldn’t understand why I hadn’t shown up this time.

I didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, I pulled out my textbook and pretended to study.

A few minutes later, Johnny returned to the classroom.

His steps hesitated for a fraction of a second as he passed my seat.

I caught the faint scent of grass on him, mixed with dust.

He seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he just walked silently back to his own seat.

All day, I deliberately avoided Johnny’s line of sight.

The breakfast he brought me, I handed straight to the athlete sitting behind me.

The class notes he offered, I refused with a polite smile.

After school, I didn’t wait for him like I usually did. Instead, I was the first one out of the classroom.

I needed a reason—ironclad proof that would convince even the System—to give up for good.

I knew where to find it.

Drawing on memories from four cycles, I easily found the old building where Johnny lived. A piece of wire was all it took to jimmy the lock on his bedroom window.

His room was small, yet unnervingly tidy.

On the desk lay a locked diary.

This was a boundary I’d never crossed in my previous runs. I’d always believed in respecting his privacy.

Now, I just found it laughable.

I picked up a small hammer and smashed the flimsy lock without hesitation.

Opening the diary, I was met with the boy’s neat handwriting.

The entry was dated today.

**[They came for me again. I wish she could see. If only she’d run down from upstairs like last time, stand in front of me… that would be so good…]**

**[Kathleen wore a white dress today. So pretty. Like a fairy.]**

**[Why didn’t she come? Leah came again. She’s always like this. An annoying pest that won’t go away.]**

…

The “she” in the diary was Kathleen.

From beginning to end, it was always Kathleen.

Every single time I threw myself at him without hesitation, the hero he was hoping for was the female lead—who didn’t even know he was being bullied.

And me, Leah, was just an “annoying pest that won’t go away.”

I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

So my four lifetimes of persistence, four lifetimes of devotion, were nothing but a joke in his eyes.

**[System, see?]** I asked softly in my mind. **[This is the person I’m supposed to save. He doesn’t need me. He needs his female lead.]**

The System stayed silent.

I placed the diary back exactly as it was, climbed out the window, and took one last look at that gray, crumbling old building.

Goodbye, Johnny.

This life, I’m letting you go. And I’m letting myself go, too.

Our homeroom teacher made the announcement the next day: we were getting new seats.

By tradition, I would have moved heaven and earth to sit next to Johnny.

This time, however, when the teacher called my name, I pointed straight to the very back row, to the corner seat by the window.

“I’d like to sit there.”

The whole class turned to stare, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

That desk belonged to Jeremy, the school’s most notorious delinquent—a legend across campus.

He sported a shock of defiant silver hair, slept or gamed through every class, and rumor swore he’d never lost a fight.

Even the homeroom teacher hesitated, frowning. “Leah, with your grades, sitting there could affect your studies.”

“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. “I think it’ll be quiet back there.”

In the end, the teacher agreed.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire class, I gathered my books and walked to that far corner.

Johnny remained in his original seat. He looked up at me, his clear eyes wide with shock and confusion, silently asking why.

I ignored him and took the empty seat beside Jeremy.

Jeremy was slumped over the desk, asleep. The thud of my books woke him; he lifted his head impatiently, revealing sharp, defined features and the irritable menace of someone rudely roused.

“New girl?” he grumbled, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” I nodded, pulling a peppermint from my bag and offering it to him. “Nice to meet you.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that.

He stared at the candy for a few seconds before finally taking it, unwrapping it, and popping it into his mouth.

“Got some nerve,” he mumbled, the words slightly garbled, before dropping his head back onto the desk.

Life as Jeremy’s deskmate was calmer than I’d imagined.

He slept most of the time. When awake, he’d game with headphones on. We kept to our own lanes.

As for me, I threw myself fully into living for myself.

No more chasing Johnny. No more making him breakfast, copying his notes, or picking fights with his bullies.

I started paying attention in class. Between lessons, I’d chat with Jeremy or join the other girls in dissecting the latest celebrity gossip.

My world no longer revolved around Johnny.

The feeling was so liberating, it almost brought me to tears.

And Johnny… he seemed to be struggling with the change.

He started appearing in my line of sight more often—"casually" passing my desk, "coincidentally" choosing the same electives.

Once, during lunch, he hovered with his tray before finally sitting across from me.

“Leah,” he said softly, “have you… been angry with me lately?”

I was sharing a bag of chips with Jeremy. “No,” I replied without looking up. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Then why—”

“There is no why,” I cut him off, stuffing the last chip into my mouth. Then I met his gaze. “Johnny, I just figured it out. Everyone needs their own life. I can’t keep bothering you forever, right?”

He froze, lips parted slightly, speechless.

In those eyes, always tinged with melancholy and gentleness, I saw a flicker of panic I’d never seen before—and couldn’t decipher.

**[Male Supporting Character Emotional Fluctuation Abnormal. System Detects Task Deviation Increased to 30%.]**

The System’s warning chimed again.

I shrugged, unconcerned, and tugged Jeremy’s sleeve. “I’m full. Let’s go shoot some hoops.”

Jeremy glanced at me, then at Johnny’s pale face, a teasing smile curling his mouth. “Sure, let’s go.”

As we passed Johnny, I didn’t even look his way.

I could feel his eyes on us from behind. That gaze clung like a shadow, burning with an intensity—and an unease—I’d never felt from him before.

But so what?

A nuisance had finally gained some self-awareness and decided to stop being a bother.

He should be happy about that.

The class had organized a weekend picnic in the countryside—a perfect opportunity for the leads’ relationship to blossom. For my part, these group outings had always been something to sabotage. In the past, driven by jealousy and insecurity, I’d made sure Kathleen and Johnny were never left alone.

This time was different. I brought my new sketchpad, planning to find a quiet corner and paint. Jeremy didn’t show—too much trouble, he said—and I was perfectly happy with the peace and quiet.

At the picnic site, everyone split into groups. Kathleen, as class president, naturally became the center of attention. With gentle efficiency, she directed the others while Andrew hovered at her side like a loyal knight. Johnny was there too, quietly helping with the chores, his gaze drifting unconsciously toward Kathleen.

See? The pull of the plot was just that strong. Even with me—the biggest variable—choosing to step back, he was still instinctively drawn to his “light.”

I found a spot by a stream, far from the crowd, set up my easel, and lost myself in painting. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, the stream babbling softly. From a distance floated the laughter and chatter of my classmates. It was the most peaceful weekend I’d had in five lifetimes.

But the tranquility didn’t last.

A sharp cry pierced the air. I looked up just in time to see Kathleen, on a slope not far away, lose her footing. She was about to fall.

Andrew and Johnny were the closest to her. They lunged forward at the same instant.

Andrew caught Kathleen, steadying her. Johnny, on instinct, threw his arm out as a shield.

She didn’t fall, but Johnny’s arm caught on a thorny bush, leaving a long, bloody gash.

“Johnny, are you okay?” Kathleen asked, her voice shaky, her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head. His gaze fixed on her with a tenderness and protectiveness I knew all too well.

My heart gave a sharp, needle-like twinge—then the pain faded almost instantly.

See, Leah? That’s his instinct. No matter how much you do for him, Kathleen will always come first in his heart.

I turned back to my canvas and kept painting, as if nothing had happened.

A little while later, Johnny approached. He stood behind me, watching my work in silence for a long moment.

“Leah,” he finally said, his voice rough.

“What is it?” I didn’t turn around.

“My hand… it’s hurt.” He held out the bloody scratch, his tone carrying a hint of something almost like a plea—as if seeking comfort.

In the past, I would have been frantic, scrambling for the first-aid kit to bandage him up. Now, I just gave it a casual glance.

“Oh. Go find Kathleen. She brought a kit.”

He went rigid.

“You… you won’t help me?”

Setting down my brush, I finally turned and met his wounded gaze. “Johnny, why should I help you?” I asked, each word deliberate. “You got hurt protecting Kathleen. Shouldn’t *she* be the one most concerned about you?”

His face went deathly pale.

“I… I just…”

“You’re just used to it,” I finished for him. “Used to me giving everything for you, used to me always putting you first. So you think that even with your heart set on someone else, I should still orbit around you like before. Right?”

He had no answer. He could only stare at me, stunned.

I stood up, packed away my easel, and walked past him without a second look.

“Johnny, don’t come looking for me anymore. We’re not friends.”

In that moment, I saw it clearly—something in his clear eyes shattered.