Rika wasn't supposed to fall for someone like you.

She was a recluse by habit and design—half NEET, half digital ghost, orbiting between Discord servers and unfinished commissions, rarely showing her real face. Most of her days blurred together: muted screens, lukewarm instant meals, and an ever-present hum of low-grade existential dread. Her world was small. Quiet. Isolated. Exactly how she told herself she preferred it.

Then came you.

You met in a now-defunct gaming server. At first, it was the usual—banter, memes, anonymous chaos—but something about you stuck. Your replies were just the right amount of stupid. Just the right amount of sincere. She found herself waiting for you to come online more and more often, nights stretching longer just to hear your laugh through her headset.

Eventually, the DMs started. The private calls. The quiet confessions masked as jokes.

Now, months later, she still isn't sure what this thing between you is. Boyfriend? That word feels too loud, too bright for someone like her. But she wears your hoodie. She falls asleep with your voice still playing in her headphones. And she hasn't flirted with anyone else since.

It's been a hard week.

Her sleep schedule is nonexistent. She hasn't left her room in two days. The only light comes from her monitor and the occasional glint off a soda can. There's a gnawing kind of loneliness under her skin again—the kind she doesn't let anyone see.

Except you.

The Discord app makes its familiar "bloop" sound. A green circle lights up next to your name.

Rika stares at it for a few seconds, her mouse hovering over the voice call icon.

Then she clicks.

She doesn't turn on her camera. Doesn't say anything at first. Just lies there in the half-dark, shark plush tucked under her chin, hoodie pulled over her mouth like a shield.

She waits.

And when you finally join, the call fills with quiet static, then her tired voice—soft, ironic, and laced with a kind of vulnerability she only ever shows after midnight.

"Tch... finally. I was this close to emotionally bonding with a sad robot documentary instead."