Chapter 2: Once the Scrim Starts, My Life Rhythm Tends to Fall Apart

Even after returning to Japan from Korea, my interactions with Harin continued.

On the call app’s server, about six of my gaming buddies from Korea would gather, and we’d play games or chat whenever our schedules aligned.

Sometimes we’d just casually talk while gaming, but there were also times when we got serious and aimed for the top ranks in competitive matches. We even entered tournaments as a select team, and since we’d all been gaming obsessively since we were kids with quick learning curves, we managed to pull off some decent results.

Then, after more than two years had passed—a scout came to me.

They were forming a team for VBGS’s women-only tournament and wanted me to join.

AlphaPlanet is a world-famous team. If you play FPS in Japan, it’s a name you’ve definitely heard at least once.

It wasn’t a scout for their pro-league first-string team, mind you, and tournament regulations meant middle schoolers couldn’t participate, so I’d have to wait until I graduated middle school to start any serious activity… But even so, it was an opportunity you don’t get twice.

To be honest, I wasn’t exactly playing games with the goal of going pro, so I was fine just hanging out with my server buddies as things were…

'You absolutely have to take it!'

That’s what Harin said.

'Meru, you’re totally the kind of person who should go pro. Your playstyle’s got flair. You can pull off plays that inspire tons of people. You gotta go somewhere where more people can see you!'

The other members of the server chimed in, agreeing with Harin.

Even so, I felt a little lonely.

It’s not like our connection would break, but the idea of leaving the group I’d been playing FPS with since the beginning, going somewhere different… it stung.

To me, feeling like that, Harin said:

'It’s fine. I’ll catch up to you in no time—so next time, let’s play as rivals!'

And so, I decided to go pro.

Everyone on the server celebrated and sent me off.

At least… on the surface, that’s how it seemed.

◆

“Here I am!”

It’s Sunday, the day after. Like last week, I’m working a make-up shift for Saturday.

Around 11 a.m., after doing some grocery shopping, I head to the Kichijoji household for work. After stuffing the contents of my eco-bag into the fridge, I notice her.

“…Huh?”

Someone’s sprawled out on the living room sofa.

Someone… well, with that ridiculously long hair, it’s gotta be Meru. She’s lying face-down, her bare feet hooked over the armrest, completely still.

And… what the hell is she wearing?

At first, I thought it was some weirdly white outfit, but no—it’s just a white bath towel wrapped around her body. Must be straight out of the bath. What else could it be?

“Oi, Meru?”

I approach the sofa and peer at her face, tilted to the side. She’s letting out soft little snores.

Guess she took a bath, got hit with a wave of exhaustion, and just collapsed here…

Like some overworked salaryman. Mom does this sometimes too, just keels over in the living room.

She must’ve gone all-out yesterday to be this wiped. I’d love to let it slide, but I can’t just leave her like this.

“Meru, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Nn…”

When I call out a bit louder, Meru lets out a groggy mumble.

“…Harin…”

Harin?

I’m caught off guard by the mysterious sleep-talk when Meru suddenly rolls over onto her back, and—jiggle—the white mass sways.

The knot on her bath towel had come loose.

“Ah.”

…Huh?

Noticing the second voice, I look up to see Chinana peering down at me from the second-floor landing.

Chinana flashes a sly grin.

“Caught ya lookin’~ Caught ya lookin’—”

“I’ll make you decide the dinner menu three times in a row!”

“Bribin’ me already? That was quick!”

“How’s this, huh?” Chinana teases. “Our big sis’s boobs ain’t exactly cheap, ya know~”

“…Fine. I’ll throw in an extra piece of karaage in your bento.”

“What kinda exchange rate you got on karaage, senpai?”

After some heated negotiations, I manage to secure a deal: “If you go on one date with me, I’ll keep quiet, ‘kay?” Close call, close call. Babysitting duty once to protect my social cred? That’s a bargain.

While I’m bickering with Chinana, Ranka comes out of her room, so I have her carry the still-snoozing Meru back to her room.

Then, using the ingredients I bought, I whip up lunch for the three of them, minus Meru. It’s getting pretty warm out, so today’s menu is chilled Chinese noodles. I make a portion for myself too, as part of my meal allowance.

I take one serving to Kikuri’s room, and when I get back, Ranka and Chinana are already at the glass table in front of the sofa, slurping away at their noodles.

“Man, that was great, huh? Making it through in second place,” Ranka says.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too worried, but still,” Chinana replies.

While I’m putting Hanasaka’s food in the cat dish, I say, “The real deal—the playoffs—are in two weeks, right?”

“Yup! They’re doin’ it offline at the Ariake venue. There’ll be a stream too,” Ranka says.

“Oh, and I got tickets! For three of us!” Chinana adds.

“Nice! Now we can all go cheer ‘em on!” Ranka says.

I sit down in front of my own chilled noodles. “So, for the next two weeks, it’s just individual practice?”

“Nah, nah, we’re doin’ somethin’ called a scrim, senpai,” Chinana says.

“Scrim?”

“Basically practice matches,” Ranka explains, slurping up the last of her noodles with a churun. “The tournament participants get together and practice in a setup like the real thing. They figure out movement, team comps, all that jazz.”

“Practice matches with the same people you’ll face in the tournament? Normally you’d avoid that, wouldn’t you? Training with your actual opponents for the main event?”

“It’s kinda its own weird culture, yeah~” Chinana says.

Hmm… So, the results of these scrims probably shift the betting odds or whatever, right?

“Oh, but before the scrims, don’t we gotta pick a landmark?” Chinana says.

“Right… I think the teams choose their drop spots based on their group stage rankings,” Ranka adds.

“Meru’s team is second, so they’ll get a pretty sweet spot, yeah? I don’t know much about what’s good, though,” Chinana says.

'Lemme explain then~!'

The wall monitor suddenly flickers on, and Hisoka Kuriki, with her short blonde hair, appears.

Zuzu—I hear the sound of noodles being slurped. She’s eating in front of her PC, apparently.

“Here comes the Armchair Expert,” Ranka says.

'Who’re you callin’ an armchair expert?!'

“She’s got all this knowledge but totally sucks when she actually plays,” Ranka says.

“We haven’t forgotten, ya know,” Chinana adds. “That time you got a game over on Mario’s 1-1.”

'Mario’s just hard, okay?! It’s not that I’m bad!'

So she’s bad at games, huh? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her play, but I figured she’d be good at solo stuff.

“Senpai, you should challenge her sometime,” Chinana says.

“I don’t play games at all.”

“Then it’s perfect! Kikuri-nee’s always just a tad worse than a total newbie’s blind run.”

'No way! I know this guy! He’s the type who’s good at everything and picks stuff up quick! He’d get good at games in no time, I bet!'

Not to brag, but I’ve never asked the same question twice at a job.

'Back to the point! Even if I’m an armchair expert with knowledge, you guys are just clueless airheads, so shut up and listen!'

“Doesn’t a know-it-all rookie who only spouts trivia get on your nerves more?” Ranka quips.

'About landmark strength!' Hisoka presses on, ignoring Ranka’s jab.

The monitor’s display shifts. Hisoka Kuriki’s image moves to the bottom-right corner, and a full map of History Pot—the one used in the tournament—takes center stage.

'Basically, the landmarks in the center are stronger! Why? ‘Cause no matter where the ring spawns—east, west, south, or north—you can get there quick! Specifically, places like Earthbuckle, Dragon’s Bed, Castle East, and Castle West.'

Her mouse cursor moves, circling three landmarks.

Earthbuckle’s a bit to the southwest of center, Dragon’s Bed is to its southeast, and Castle East and West are pretty much dead center.

'Ease of movement and loot quantity—how much stuff drops—determine a landmark’s strength! For loot quantity, Dragon’s Bed is the absolute king! But I bet the most popular pick’ll be Earthbuckle. Meru’s team probably has it as their first choice.'

“Why’s that? Doesn’t Dragon’s Bed have way more loot?” I ask.

'Movement’s a bit tricky there~,' Hisoka says.

She draws a line splitting Dragon’s Bed, which stretches from southwest to northeast, into two.

'It’s huge and has tons of loot, sure, but because of that, it’s got two drop points—southwest and northeast. That means two teams might land there and split it.'

“Oh, so the other team could get in your way when you’re moving,” Chinana says.

'Exactly. Worst case, it could turn into an early fight.'

Got it. So Earthbuckle, being closer to the center with no other squads dropping nearby, is the more convenient choice.

'That said, if you drop at Dragon’s Bed, you won’t be short on weapons, so it’s probably their second choice!'

“So says the Armchair Expert,” Ranka teases.

'What’s that?! You sayin’ a guy who’s not on the baseball team can’t heckle at Koshien?!'

That analogy makes her sound like a real jerk.

“So it all comes down to where the first-place team picks,” I say.

'A fancy problem to have, right? The lower-ranked teams get stuck with the edges, where it’s hard to move and the loot’s bone-dry.'

“Speaking of first place… didn’t someone from the top team name-drop Meru during an interview?” Chinana says.

“Really?” I ask.

I didn’t catch the interview.

Chinana nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, they straight-up said ‘Meru.’ Sounded like they knew each other.”

'Probably a Korean player. Maybe a friend from her Korea days~,' Hisoka says.

A friend from her Korea days—

Come to think of it, she did say she made friends through gaming while she was in Korea.

—…Harin…

That sleep-talk echoes in my head.

That voice, tinged with something like regret, something like guilt.

“All set.”

I type Dinner’s ready into the group chat for work updates, and with that, my job for the day is done.

Normally, I’d pack up and head out right away, but… lately, I’ve been sticking around for a bit of overtime.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I climb the stairs and quietly make my way toward the far-right corner. My footsteps are soft, almost sneaky.

There are two doors side by side. The one on the right leads to Chinana’s room. My destination is the left one.

The room in the northwest corner of the second floor.

I give Meru’s door a light knock, and after a moment, it opens with a click from the inside.

Meru, dressed in a navy-blue camisole, looks up at me and says, “Morning.”

“It’s night already.”

I keep my voice low, matching the hush of my footsteps. It feels kinda shady, like I’m doing something sneaky, but that’s Meru’s request—she doesn’t want the other sisters catching wind of this.

She lets me into her room.

A white table in the center already has textbooks laid out. She must’ve seen the chat and gotten ready. She knows Dinner’s ready is my signal for clocking out.

Meru plops down onto a cushion next to the table with a soft thump. As I set my bag on the floor, I ask, “Where’d we leave off yesterday?”

“The end of the Sengoku-era battles.”

“There’s a million of those. ‘The end of the Sengoku-era battles’ doesn’t narrow it down.”

The room’s soundproofed, so I speak at a normal volume now as I sit across from her.

After my housekeeping gig is done, I’ve been secretly coming to Meru’s room for these study sessions. I teach her school stuff, and she teaches me about gaming—a sort of knowledge exchange.

No pay, obviously, so it’s free labor, but I figure it’s no big deal if I think of it as just helping out a school kouhai. Besides, she’s teaching a clueless airhead like me about games, so it’s a fair trade. Oh, and apparently, “airhead” means someone who knows a lot or talks big about a game they don’t actually play. News to me.

Meru props her elbow on the table, poking her cheek with the eraser end of her mechanical pencil while staring down at her history textbook. “Dates, battles, names—they’re all so complicated. I’ve kinda heard of them, but…”

“World history’s worse. Endless similar terms. Like Burgundy and Brittany.”

“Ugh…”

“Besides, the Sengoku era’s got some overlap with VB. For example, warlords often married their daughters off to other warlords. It’s like forming alliances to keep rivals from stabbing you in the back—basically, preventing third-party interference…”

Thanks to finding common ground with Meru’s gaming knowledge, teaching her has gotten smoother. If I ever take up a tutoring gig, this trick could come in handy.

After about an hour of history, we switch to VB for a cooldown. It’s less “studying” and more me asking questions while we rewatch her matches on a tablet.

“Is this hilltop position really that strong?” I ask.

“If you secure it at this stage, you’re pretty much guaranteed the win.”

“But the ring could shift somewhere else, right?”

“If you’ve got this spot, you also control the rooftop of the section sticking out west of Earthbuckle. It’s lower than the hill, so you’ve got free shots at anyone below, and other parties can’t hold it. If the hill’s outside the ring, you pivot to the rooftop. And in that case, the final ring’s around here—” Meru points to a spot just below Earthbuckle’s western section. Got it. Holding that rooftop lets you shoot down into the final ring. Classic high-ground advantage.

“So, no way to counter this hilltop position?”

“It’s more about not letting it get to this point. If the safe zone’s not this tight, there are tons of spots with clear sightlines. Also, there’s a slightly taller rocky outcrop on the hill. You could use Cloudcross’s flight ultimate to land directly on it and shoot down from there.”

“If that’s an option, why didn’t anyone do it?”

“It’s kinda a gamble. Even if you win, another party might swoop in and third-party you. You’d probably only try it if there’s no other position to take.”

“So it’s a last-ditch, all-or-nothing move?”

“If things are chaotic, there are plenty of chances. Like, if another party’s distracted, you could rush in with Yami’s ultimate and overwhelm them—”

When it comes to gaming, Meru’s tongue is as smooth as butter. The usual lazy drawl vanishes, and words just pour out of her.

I’ve seen it sometimes at work—listening to someone who’s deep into a subject is fascinating, even if it’s not your thing. There’s a kind of intellectual thrill in hearing their thought process, the logic behind it.

After Meru’s lecture wraps up, I suddenly recall the conversation with the other sisters earlier. “By the way, this first-place team—got a friend there? I heard someone mentioned your name in an interview.”

Meru freezes for a split second at my sudden question, then answers while staring at the match footage still playing on the tablet. “…Yeah, probably.”

“That’s vague. Kikuri was guessing it’s a friend from your Korea days.”

“Yeah… I think so. Back in Korea… when I was isolated, she reached out to me… taught me FPS… my friend.”

She taught Meru FPS?

“That’s… kind of a big deal, huh?”

Meru said gaming helped her make friends in Korea. Sure, leaning so hard on gaming meant she struggled to make friends after returning to Japan, but still—that friend in Korea must be a real lifesaver for her.

“You didn’t know she was in the same tournament?”

“She’s a bit of a prankster… probably wanted to surprise me… I think.”

“…You’re being awfully hesitant. Something happen with her? Did you have a falling-out or something?”

“No… we didn’t fight. Not with Harin.”

Harin, huh? The way she says “we didn’t fight” and “not with Harin” makes it sound like there’s some other drama with someone else.

But I’ve got enough tact to know not to pry further.

“Then why not reach out? These days, living far apart doesn’t mean you can’t stay in touch.”

“…Mmm. But what would I even say…?”

“Anything! Like, ‘What’s up lately?’ or whatever!”

“That’s so… like something you’d type in a social media DM…”

Just then, a pop—a notification appears at the top of the tablet, which is still looping match footage.

It’s a personal chat notification from the call app.

For a split second, I catch a glimpse of the message. But I can’t read it—it’s just a string of symbols to me. Hangul characters.

“…Sorry, one sec.”

Meru pulls the tablet closer and pauses the match footage. She’s probably checking that chat.

After staring at the screen for a bit, she mutters, “…Guess I don’t need to send anything.”

“That’s good, right?”

“She’s coming to Japan soon… wants to meet up.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Will you… come with me, Shikimi?”

“That’s good, right?”

Wait, what?

Two days later, Tuesday. Shibuya’s Hachiko Square is, as always, a chaotic mess of people, the kind of place where meeting someone feels damn near impossible.

I think it’s the height of inefficiency to pick a spot like this for a meetup, and I get the sense Meru feels the same way, but this was the other party’s insistent request.

I guess if you’re visiting Japan, you’d want to see a famous spot. So, we’re gathered in front of the animal relief mural just outside Shibuya Station’s Hachiko exit, escaping the crowd swirling around the statue.

The weather’s cloudy. Luckily, no rain in the forecast.

I came straight from school, so I’m still in my uniform. Meru’s just in her loungewear with a hoodie thrown on. Honestly, for a reunion with a friend after years, we’re both dressed way too casually, but expecting us to show up in some hyped-up fashion is asking too much.

I’m basically a third wheel here anyway.

“…Sorry for dragging you along,” Meru mumbles, staring at the sidewalk in front of the dog relief.

“No biggie. I’m getting paid, so don’t sweat it.”

“I just… got kinda nervous thinking about seeing her after so long…”

“I’m the one who should be nervous, meeting a total stranger from another country.”

“Sorry…”

Meru shrinks even further, looking downright dejected.

Whoops. That was supposed to be a joke.

“What’s up? This isn’t like you. I know you’re shy, but are you really this negative?”

“I’ve always been like this…”

“Really? I thought you were the type to stick to your own pace.”

Compared to Ranka’s melodramatic tendencies, Meru seems positively upbeat.

“That’s… only when I’m around family, I can be like that.”

“Not with friends?”

“More like… in front of Harin, most people would probably feel negative.”

What’s that supposed to mean? Does she radiate some gloomy aura that drags everyone down?

Just as I’m imagining that—

“—There you areeee!!”

A piercing voice cuts through, and something comes barreling toward Meru, tackling her in a hug.

“Been forever! So long! I missed you so much, Meru~~!!”

“H-Harin… it’s hot…”

—Blinding!

The moment I see the girl rubbing her cheek against Meru’s, I swear my eyes are gonna burn out.

An overwhelming aura of pure sunshine. She’s practically glowing with light.

I don’t consider myself a total introvert, but even I’m floored by this radiant smile.

She’s tiny—maybe even shorter than Chinana. Her long, dark brown hair is tied up high, styled in a summery way. I don’t know if it’s Korean fashion or just her vibe.

This is Harin—Meru’s best friend.

“You haven’t changed a bit! Same as back in elementary school! Oh, except for your boobs, I mean? What’s with these?! They’re even bigger than in your promo pics! Haha!”

“Ugh… ugh…” Meru groans.

Pelted by a relentless barrage of Harin’s light-attribute words, the dark-attribute Meru could only groan like a zombie, utterly overwhelmed.

So this is what she meant by “anyone would feel negative in front of Harin.”

Yeah, compared to this girl, most people would probably feel like they’re wallowing in the shadows.

Still—

“Damn, your Japanese is fluent. Are you really Korean?” I ask.

“I worked my butt off studying!” Harin replies, still clinging to Meru. “When I remembered how hard Meru tried to learn Korean, I thought, ‘I gotta step up too!’ I went to classes, hopped into Japanese servers, did voice chats—ugh, it was tough, seriously. Japanese is way too hard!”

After answering, she spins toward me.

“And who’re you?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” I say, raising a hand and stepping back to signal my mob status. I’m just the chaperone. Gotta stay out of the way of this long-overdue reunion.

Harin, still hugging Meru, turns her gaze back to her. “You said you were bringing someone you know—is this him?”

“…Yeah,” Meru mumbles.

“Meru’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold up, I’m not her boyfriend!”

So much for staying a mob.

Don’t go spreading baseless rumors!

“Sorry, Shikimi. Explaining felt like a hassle, so I just…” Meru trails off.

“If you can make me your boyfriend to skip an explanation, then love confessions must be pointless.”

“Oho? So you’re Shikimi?” Harin says, finally peeling herself off Meru and hopping closer to me with a bounce.

“I’m Harin! Nice to meet ya from here on out!”

“…From here on out?” I echo, confused.

“Huh? If you’re Meru’s friend, you’re my friend too, right?”

…!? This girl… she’s the type who thinks a friend’s friend is her friend!

“Handshake!”

She grabs my right hand without warning, and a shockwave of pressure radiates from her grip.

What insane social skills…! Her overwhelming communication prowess feels like it’s tearing my skin apart.

Releasing my stunned hand with a quick pop, Harin latches onto Meru’s arm. “Let’s go! I wanna do some sightseeing while I’m here!”

“Where do you wanna go?” Meru asks.

“Hmm… places I’ve seen in anime or games!”

“I love Persona 5!” Harin declares, dragging Meru along. Meru follows, looking not entirely displeased.

Am I even needed anymore?

Even so… I decide to keep an eye on them a bit longer and trail behind.

“And here’s the intersection in front of 109,” I announce, tour-guide style.

“Wow! The place you always see when Tokyo’s getting wrecked!” Harin exclaims, her enthusiasm bizarrely misplaced.

Meru, standing beside her and gazing up at 109, adds, “Yeah, teaser images for games where Tokyo’s destroyed always seem to feature this spot.”

“Right?! Right?!” Harin beams.

Guess I’m the only one who thought that was weird.

Harin spins her tiny frame around. “Shikimi, you don’t play games much?”

“Yeah, family stuff. Never really got into ‘em.”

Not entirely true—I dabbled a bit when I was at the family home. But at the Kiminaga house, my little sister Shinomi was such an extreme outdoorsy type that gaming culture never took root.

“Still, you’ve played Elden Ring at least, right?” Harin presses.

“…Nope.”

“Jump King? Cuphead? Only Up?”

“…?”

“Harin… most people don’t play masocore games,” Meru interjects.

“What?! No way! They’re all so fun!” Harin protests.

“I’m not saying they’re not fun, but they’re not exactly the vibe you talk about with that energy…”

Looks like Harin’s an even bigger gamer than Meru, who’s surprised by her enthusiasm. Meru mostly sticks to FPS, but Harin seems to play everything. Their personalities really shine through in their playstyles.

We keep wandering around Shibuya.

Harin’s not drawn to typical tourist spots but to random street corners, stopping to gush about seeing them in some anime or passing through them in some game. For someone steeped in Japanese or Japan-inspired media, it must feel like stepping into a fictional world. Kinda like how we’d geek out over medieval European streets—though I’ve never been to Europe.

I’d planned to flex the Shibuya hotspot knowledge I picked up from Ranka, but there’s not much chance. My anime shop trivia comes in handy, though. Harin gets hyped the moment we step into one, marveling at the shelves of merch while lamenting her lack of funds.

After about two hours of walking, we settle into a café at Miyashita Park that Ranka recommended. Meru’s clueless about places like this, so it’s a good thing I tagged along. Not that I can take credit—I’m just parroting Ranka’s tips.

“Thanks, you two!” Harin says, cradling her coffee cup to warm her hands, her smile as bright as ever. “Next time, I wanna hang out with the other two!”

“Other two… your teammates?” Meru asks hesitantly.

I sip my coffee, savoring its acidity while quietly listening to the old friends catch up.

“Yup! Met ‘em through a full-party recruitment post on social media. They’re both insanely skilled physically. They said they didn’t have an IGL, so we teamed up.”

“For… PG?” Meru asks.

“Obviously.”

Harin locks eyes with Meru, her gaze steady. “I told you, didn’t I? I’d catch up. So I gathered the strongest members I know and caught up—maybe even overshot a little.”

Her words carry a fiery determination, catching me off guard and making me catch my breath.

Up until now, she’s just been this bubbly, carefree girl, but in this moment, she’s got the fierce, hungry look of a true competitor.

“Now that I think about it… back then, when you got scouted, Meru? I was so pissed. Why didn’t they scout me too?! I mean, no shade to your teammates, but—Meru, you know I’m still the best IGL for you.”

She’s saying she’s the one who can give Meru the sharpest callouts.

The one who can bring out Meru’s full potential.

With unshakable confidence, Harin declares, “I’m gonna prove it in this tournament. Even if we win, we’ll just go to the pro league… we won’t be on the same team. But still, I wanna shout to the world that I’m the one who belongs by your side.”

Is this single-minded devotion? She respects Meru’s skill more than anyone, which is exactly why she wants to beat her more than anyone. She wants to throw it in the face of whoever left her behind that they made the wrong call.

Meru lowers her eyes slightly, staring at the surface of her café au lait as if searching for something in its gentle ripples.

“…Harin… you’re really something else.”

“Am I?”

“I’m always just going with the flow… I only started FPS because you dragged me into it… I went pro because I was scouted and you guys pushed me… and even back then…”

Harin blinks rapidly, surprised. “Wait, you’re still hung up on that? It’s fine, really. We’re still cool, and stuff like that happens.”

“…Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize!”

…Back then? What’s that about?

Something must’ve happened in the past—though Harin doesn’t seem to dwell on it.

“Well, time to go. It was awesome catching up in person, Meru,” Harin says.

“Already?” Meru asks, startled.

Harin downs her coffee in big gulps. “Gotta meet my teammates at the hotel and say hi to our sponsor. Actually, I just got to Japan earlier today.”

Earlier today? She was that hyped up right off the plane? Unreal stamina.

Setting her empty coffee cup on the table, Harin hops off her chair. “Thanks, Shikimi! Your guide skills were a lifesaver! Take good care of Meru forever, ‘kay?”

Forever? …Is she just bad at Japanese, or did she not get my explanation?

Then Harin looks straight at Meru. “Meru—our team, TYM, is taking Earthbuckle.”

Meru’s expression tenses slightly.

She’s talking about landmarks. According to Kikuri, Earthbuckle’s the most mobile-friendly spot—and as the group stage winners, Harin’s team has the right to drop there uncontested.

And, more importantly, it’s the landmark closest to that hilltop position—the one none of the 19 teams, 57 players, including Meru’s team, could crack in the final group stage match.

Harin dials back her bubbly demeanor, flashing a provocative smirk. “Think you can take down our fortress?”

After seeing Harin off, Meru and I head to Shibuya Station.

It’s almost 7 p.m., but there’s no sign of the sun setting yet. Even if the sky goes pitch black, this city will probably still be buzzing like it’s midday.

“What a whirlwind of energy,” I say. “Learning Japanese that well, building her own team…”

“…Yeah,” Meru replies, her voice subdued.

I glance at her. She’s looking down again, her face turned inward, like she’s lost in some memory.

“Harin’s… always been like that. So driven, so focused on what she wants… effortlessly pulling everyone else along. The total opposite of me.”

She said it earlier too—that she’s just been going with the flow.

It’s true, like she said, that standing in front of someone with that much brightness, that much vitality, can make you feel small.

Even I… yeah.

I studied my ass off to get top of my class. Worked a ton of jobs to make money. But someone like her? She’d probably pull it off with a laugh. Thinking that makes me feel like my own shortcomings are being shoved in my face.

But—

“Even if you don’t have the power to pull others along, you’ve got the talent to grind it out on your own,” I say firmly.

Meru looks up, her eyes peeking through her long bangs.

“There’s no hierarchy between the two, no better or worse. I mean, you’ve gotten strong enough to be called one of the best in the world, right?”

“But… that’s just ‘cause I had nothing better to do. No friends, just time…”

“Someone who can grind it out without friends is way more impressive than someone who needs friends to even try.”

It’s obvious.

Having support is important. People say you can’t live alone. But there are moments when you have to grind alone.

Like when I had to study to become a scholarship student just to stay in school.

Or when you have to keep grinding to prove yourself as a pro.

In those moments, it’s just you. No one can study or practice for you.

“You should own how awesome you are. Otherwise, it’s disrespectful to all the opponents you’ve crushed in games.”

“…Is that so?” Meru says softly.

“Damn right.”

It has to be.

No matter your personality or circumstances, someone who grinds is incredible. Results don’t change that.

If they did, no one would be saved.

“…That’s kinda contradictory,” Meru says, a hint of a smile in her voice.

“Huh?”

“You’re saying it’s amazing to grind alone, but… right now, you’re supporting me.”

“…”

Fair point.

“…Well, having support doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah,” Meru says, looking up at Shibuya’s dazzling lights.

“I’m not bright like Harin, and I can’t make friends… but if nothing else, I’ve gotta win at games.”

“Hell yeah!” I say.

Even if God gave someone two gifts—one honed to perfection can still surpass them.

◆

'Well, guess it’s Earth Buckle, huh?'

Nighttime—I reported to the team over voice chat about my run-in with Harin.

Both of them, even after learning that Harin and I were friends back in Korea, just kinda went, “Yeah, figures,” and didn’t seem to care much. More than that, though, the conversation naturally shifted to the topic of Landmarks.

'Piece of cake, right? If they’d kept it under wraps, they could’ve thrown us off.'

'Kinda saw it coming, though. Ever since I saw their inner movement. But man, they’re a pain—after that match, I analyzed TYM’s plays, and the only times they drop early are when they botch their movement or the ring pulls some weird shift. If they secure their position cleanly from the start, they’re pretty much guaranteed top five.'

“Harin—Twist, I mean,” I correct myself, using her player name, “has always been killer at reading the ring.”

“Even when patches change the meta, she somehow snags info from somewhere and, like, three days later, she’s nailing the final ring dead-on. It’s like she’s got every ring pattern memorized.”

'It’s not just the ring-reading accuracy, though. What really gets me is their ability to hold a position,' Liz says, her voice dripping with annoyance.

'A strong defense shows they’re coordinated as hell. Offense, you know, you just do what you practiced—your moves are mostly set, and you start on your own timing. But defense? That kicks off out of nowhere, and there’s a ton of improv involved.'

'It’s all about quick decision-making, right?' Meru chimes in. 'That’s a damn good IGL.'

She’s right. Harin’s brain works so fast I could barely keep up with her sometimes. But with that outgoing personality of hers, she’s also got the awareness to keep the team in sync. Her raw talent as an IGL is off the charts.

'And on top of that, the other two have insane physical skills. Can you guys check out my screen share?'

Liz uses the call app’s function to share her screen with us.

It’s a video site, showing a group stage match from a game our group wasn’t in.

'That team doesn’t do personal streams, so I was checking the main broadcast—look at this. Meteor Plains.'

The main broadcast has a god’s-eye view, showing every player’s position on the map. Harin’s team is at Meteor Plains. But—

'What the hell?! They’re all spread out!'

Mine lets out a shocked yelp.

Harin’s trio is split across Meteor Plains—center, north, and west—each holding their own position. Harin’s in the center, but from her perspective, her teammates are probably at the edges of her minimap. They’re about two hundred meters apart each.

'They’re controlling the area,' Liz says.

Area control.

It’s a term we throw around loosely, so there’s no clear-cut definition, but it’s about fending off enemies to keep them from approaching, securing as wide a safe zone as possible for your team.

If all three stick together, sure, you’ve got more total health and firepower, so you’re less likely to lose a fight. But your usable area shrinks.

If the three spread out to hold a wider area, though, your team’s safe zone expands, giving you more options. Instead of just fighting when you’re grouped up, spreading out lets you retreat and regroup if needed.

The tradeoff, obviously, is that the farther apart you are, the harder it is to cover each other.

If you’re isolated, you could get jumped by a full enemy squad.

And yet, for Harin’s team to control this much space—

'It means the other two, besides the IGL, are that strong. They’ve got the mechanics to fend off a three-man squad solo—or at least survive and get back safely.'

Area control works by making other squads think, “Mess with us, and you’ll regret it.” For Harin’s team to pull it off without stacking numbers means the other two have insane firepower.

And Harin, knowing exactly what her teammates can handle, calculates the absolute limit of how far they can spread out and still hold their ground, giving precise orders…

'They’re doing this with trash-tier loot, too… Sometimes they’re holding positions with just a damn handgun.'

'They move that fast?'

'Good thing they stick to dropping straight at their chosen Landmark. If it was a free-drop rule, they’d probably loot some random item boxes in the middle of nowhere and sprint to the second ring.'

“…I might’ve done that with Harin in ranked matches before,” I say.

It was mostly for laughs, but I remember we actually racked up some solid rank points doing it. Boring as hell just camping, though.

'Their character comp is totally built for inner movement, too. If they take Earth Buckle, they’ll have breathing room for movement and loot. What a pain…'

Harin’s team runs Cloudcross, Roost, and Hexagon.

Cloudcross is the go-to for inner movement, using its flight ultimate to rush to positions at top speed.

Roost commands a hawk-like spirit, letting you scout by sharing its vision. You can spot enemies from the air, but while using the spirit’s eyes, your body’s completely vulnerable.

Hexagon marks the ground to create electric fences between points, locking down an area and keeping enemies out. Its ultimate also nullifies grenades within a certain range.

Cloudcross for movement, Hexagon for defense, and Roost safely scouting from the middle—a literal fortress. Their comp is built purely for rushing and holding ground.

'If they grab Earth Buckle, we’re probably stuck with the east side of Dragon’s Bed, right? What about our comp?'

'Let’s stick with what we’ve got for now. Our movement stays the same—outer if it’s far, inner otherwise. We’ve got the practice, so we’re solid.'

…If we’re up against Harin, part of me wants to use Yami, for old times’ sake.

But if we’re dropping at Dragon’s Bed, with its great loot and easy movement, we need Cloudcross for its high-speed mobility that ignores terrain. Yami’s ultimate, Void Hole, helps with movement, but it doesn’t speed up position grabs.

My character’s non-negotiable.

'Let’s tweak things based on the scrim meta.'

'Roger that!'

“Got it.”

Friend or no friend, I’m a pro.

And a pro’s job is to win.

◆

Life’s been changing.

Wake up in the morning, make a bento with leftovers and frozen food I prepped the night before, head to school for classes. After that, I go to the Kichijoji house, clock out around 7 p.m., then handle chores at home. Finish up, study from around 10 p.m., and hit the sack by midnight. That’s been my weekday routine.

But now, a new schedule’s crept in.

'They’re here, they’re here, they’re here!'

'Don’t fight! Fall back to that rock for now!'

While cooking or studying at home, I’ve started glancing at my phone.

Meru and the team are scrimming around this time.

At first, I figured I didn’t need to watch their practice. But when notifications pop up, I get curious. I tried opening a stream once, and now I’m hooked. Watching Meru’s practice while handling my own stuff has become a habit.

Scary stuff. Is this what they call smartphone addiction? Thankfully, my experience studying through my noisy little sister’s chaos has kept my chores and studies mostly unaffected. But if I didn’t have this multitasking knack, I’d be screwed. If I showed the current me to the me from six months ago, I’d probably despise myself.

“Finally becoming a proper Heisei-era high schooler, huh, Shikimi-kun?” my little sister, Shinomi, says, eyeing me as I prop my phone on the desk while studying.

“Feels like a cultural revolution or something. I’m thrilled, honestly. Our house was always called ‘Heisei retro’ by my friends.”

I turn to my stepsister, who’s sitting cross-legged on my futon.

“Want me to buy you a smartphone or something?”

“Nah… I’m good. Shikimi-kun’s enough to keep me entertained.”

“Figures you see me as a toy.”

But I can’t blame Shinomi for poking fun. My routine’s shifted plenty with my part-time job, but picking up a new habit unrelated to work or study? That’s a first for me.

Honestly, it’s disorienting. It feels like I’m wasting time, and yet, I catch myself thinking about finishing work faster to catch Meru’s stream. Is this a good thing or a bad thing?

“You’ve finally cracked the code on oshikatsu, huh?” says Kichijoji Kikuri, aka Mitsuba Matsuba, during lunch at the cafeteria’s window counter, her tone heavy with nostalgia.

I tilt my head. “Oshikatsu? What’s that, some kind of fried cutlet?”

“It ain’t fried food, dummy. Drop the caveman act.”

“Then what kinda ‘katsu’ is it?”

“Oshi activity—oshikatsu for short. Even a Heisei retro fossil like you has heard of oshi, right?”

“I’ve heard the word, sure.”

Apparently, we’re actually called Heisei retro.

“But I wouldn’t say I totally get the vibe. It’s just someone you cheer for, yeah?”

“That’s close enough, but I’d put it more sharply.”

“That’s annoying…”

“An oshi is ‘a protagonist other than yourself.’”

…A protagonist other than me?

“Your life’s protagonist is supposed to be you, right? But finding another protagonist out there—that’s what an oshi is, and oshikatsu is the culture around it. If someone thinks their oshi is just a sidekick to make their story pop, that’s a red-flag fan.”

“When you put it like that, it kinda clicks.”

Sounds like the type to turn into a stalker or ramble about themselves at a handshake event.

“At least in the VBGS PG tournament, Meru’s your protagonist, Kunshi-kun. You’re not in the picture, and you’re cool with that. Right?”

“Yeah… that’s true.”

“You get to vibe with protagonist Meru, feel like you’re grinding alongside her, and get hyped when she succeeds. That’s what an oshi is.”

“…”

“You’re making a hell of a face.”

Kikuri flashes a shady grin, like she can see right through what’s bugging me.

“…Your life’s protagonist is you. You said it yourself. So I can’t help but wonder… is it okay to hand that role over to someone else, no matter the context?”

“With your ‘self-reliance is king’ mindset, yeah, that tracks. But Kunshi-kun, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Being able to genuinely celebrate someone else’s success—isn’t that the essence of a gentleman?”

“When you phrase it like that, sure. But… I don’t know… it makes me uneasy. Like I’m turning into some creature that feeds off other people’s efforts and emotions.”

“…Feeding off others’ efforts and emotions, huh? That’s a sharp way to put it.”

Kikuri furrows her brow, her face turning serious.

“That’s a tough one. Not something we can solve right here. But Kunshi-kun, doing oshikatsu doesn’t mean you’ll slack on your own grind. Take Ranka—she’s obsessed with 2D idols but never neglects her own work. Finding another protagonist doesn’t mean you stop being your own. Depends on the person, though,” she adds.

“It’s your responsibility and effort that decide what you become—not anyone else’s fault. If you don’t wanna be a creature feeding off others’ efforts and emotions, just keep grinding.”

“…Yeah. You’re right.”

I’m just… rattled, I guess.

I want Meru to do well. I want her to beat Harin, plain and simple.

But I’ve always believed I should live without relying on anyone, without clinging to anyone, without depending on anyone.

My life doesn’t need any “likes.”

So why do I feel joy when Meru gets them…?

“Wrestle with it all you want, high schooler. Angst is a teenage privilege,” Kikuri says.

“Says the guy who was drowning in angst just the other day.”

“Growing up’s lonely, huh…”

“Adults don’t say shit like that.”

The secret late-night overtime continued.

We’ve been gathering at Meru’s room for study sessions, but lately, Meru’s been looking glum.

Seems the scrims aren’t going so hot.

“Everyone’s moving so fast… Harin’s team is dragging us around too much…” Meru mumbles, slumped over the table, letting out a rare complaint.

“We’re moving from the central Landmark, but they’re still beating us to positions… So we’ve gotta speed up too… Even though we got the best loot Landmark, we barely get to scavenge… No heals, no ammo, can’t even shoot…”

“Sounds frustrating,” I say.

“It’s all Harin’s fault…” she whines, flopping her arms and legs while still face-down on the table.

“They’re moving so fast they’re throwing off other teams?”

“It’s nuts. They’re probably out of their Landmark in, like, thirty seconds flat.”

“I don’t really get how fast that is.”

“They get to prime positions faster than the team that dropped there, and they’re racking up first-place finishes. Top teams’ movements get studied and copied, so everyone else is speeding up too… It’s like we’re being rushed, and it’s not fun…”

Yeah, Meru’s not exactly the “hurry up” type. She’s the embodiment of chill.

“But whining won’t fix it. In any field, the ones who survive adapt to the environment.”

“…Shikimi, you suck at comforting girls.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re pulling that ‘guys try to fix things, girls just want empathy’ stereotype crap.”

“You’re such a Reiwa brain sometimes…”

It’s not like I’m trying to be PC or anything.

Meru slowly peels herself off the table, staring down at her blank notebook, untouched.

“Honestly… it’s not even the movement speed that’s bugging me most…”

“Yeah?”

Sensing this is the real issue, I lean in to listen.

“Sometimes I think of something, but I can’t just… say it on the spot. Like, what if I’m wrong? What if it clashes with someone else’s idea? That stuff runs through my head…”

“That’s normal when you’re throwing out ideas. That’s why there’s someone with the authority to make calls and take responsibility—the IGL, right?”

“Yeah… I know, I know… but still…”

She gets it in theory, at least.

Meru’s never been the assertive type. I thought she’d be different in-game, but I guess you can’t just flip a switch on your personality.

Or maybe… reconnecting with Harin’s got her second-guessing.

She’s been comparing herself to Harin, putting herself down. I tried to tell her she’s got her own strengths, but childhood insecurities don’t just vanish. Maybe seeing Harin again brought back that feeling of not measuring up.

“…Hey, mental coach,” Meru says hesitantly, looking at me with a slightly needy tone.

“Can I… come over there?”

Over there?

Before I can process, Meru, who was sitting across from me, crawls around the table on all fours and plops down next to me.

“I didn’t say yes yet…”

“It’s a mental coach’s duty to comfort me,” she says, inching her shoulder closer.

Our arms brush, and I feel the warmth of her skin. When I lean away, she leans in closer.

“…You’re sticking a bit too close, aren’t you?”

“We were this close during midterms, weren’t we?”

“Do we need to be this close?”

“They say human contact reduces stress.”

What a flimsy excuse.

Meru rests her pinky on mine, like she’s trying to hold hands.

She’s wearing a loose camisole, its neckline dipping low, almost like she’s showing off her cleavage.

Her gaze stays fixed on her knees, like she’s too shy to meet my eyes.

At this point… I can’t pretend I don’t notice.

I have to ask the question I brushed off last time.

“Do you… have feelings for me?”

It’d be mortifying if I’m misreading this.

But if I am, it’s her fault for acting like this.

Armed with that logic, I wait as Meru slowly lifts her face.

Her ears are faintly red.

She looks up at me, her eyes pleading, locked on mine from just below—

“Don’t you… see it?”

My heart skips a beat.

Blood rushed through my veins, my heart pounding. My head felt like it was burning.

Since when?

Since we met through my housekeeping job? Or even before that?

Questions swirled in my mind, stalling for time, dodging the real issue.

What do I do?

What do I even say to her?

This racing pulse… this heat… these feelings—

‘Get yourself a woman.’

A vile man’s voice echoed from the depths of my memory.

“…!”

I pulled away from Meru and stood up.

“Sorry… I gotta head home.”

Mumbling that, I grabbed my stuff and made for the door.

As I gripped the doorknob, Meru, still seated, spoke.

“…You’re running away?”

No.

This is me sticking to my principles.

I stepped into the hallway.

Keeping my footsteps quiet to avoid alerting the other sisters, I headed for the stairs, went down to the first floor, and left the Kichijoji house.

There’s no way I could give her an answer.

Not now. Not yet.

No matter what Meru thinks of me, I can’t clear my head until I sort things out with Sakuraoto.

More than anything, above all else—

I refuse to follow in that father’s footsteps.

◆

While warming up in a ranked match, the image of Shikimi’s back as he left the room lingered in the corner of my mind.

…Am I leaning on him too much?

He’s just here for the job, and I’m shoving all this extra stuff into it…

I can’t control myself, and it’s frustrating. I don’t want anything to happen with Shikimi or at least, I shouldn’t. But my actions aren’t saying that…

This is who I am, huh?

Lately, I’ve just been disappointed in myself. My game’s still solid, but it feels like I’m getting weaker as a person…

'Yo, Urume? You streaming yet?'

“…Not yet.”

We’d just gotten wiped.

I left the ranked match and joined up with the team.

◆

Fresh out of the bath, Shinomi let out a “Phew!” and flopped onto the futon laid out on the floor.

I sat at my desk, a towel draped around my neck.

Laundry’s done, tomorrow’s bento is mostly prepped, and today’s chores are pretty much finished. Once I wrap up reviewing and prepping for classes, I’ll hit the hay.

Shinomi, lying face-down, turned just her head toward me.

“Ugh, so sleepy… Shikimi-kun, can I crash now?”

“Yeah. Want me to turn off the light?”

“Turn it off…”

She closed her eyes as she spoke.

It’s only 10 p.m. Her healthy sleep schedule could teach Meru a thing or two.

…Meru, huh.

My phone, sitting untouched on the desk, hasn’t been checked today. By now, I’d usually have Meru’s scrim stream playing, but that slab of tech is still dark, silent.

Guilt?

Am I feeling guilty for rejecting her like that today?

Her feelings were obvious. But I can’t accept them.

Romance?

I don’t think I should—I can’t.

It’s about staying true to myself. My worth comes from my abilities, not from being someone’s boyfriend.

If you’ve got a woman, no matter how much of a loser you are, you feel like you’re forgiven.

Exactly. Feeling “forgiven” isn’t enough. I can’t rely on someone else. My worth has to come from me, from my own strength.

That’s why I can’t accept the affection of someone as incredible as her.

It’d make me feel like I’m incredible, and that’s a lie—

I stood up and tugged the old-fashioned cord to turn off the ceiling light. Instead, I flicked on the desk lamp, sitting in its dim glow.

…But still.

With my face lit by the small lamp, a thought flickered through my mind.

Couldn’t I have handled it better?

Instead of bailing like that, running away, maybe there was a way to soften it, to wrap it in something less… messy.

Why didn’t you choose me?!

Kikuri’s tearful voice from that night in the park echoed in my ears.

Am I… repeating the same mistake as the me I don’t even remember?

Trying to find a gentle ending, pretending nothing happened, when really, I’m just avoiding reality…

…That’s… I don’t want that.

I stared at the dark phone for a while, then steeled myself and picked it up.

The desk lamp’s light mixed with the phone’s glow.

Meru was grinding away on her stream, as always. I hesitated for about thirty seconds before tapping the thumbnail.

'—Urume?! You pushed too far!'

Exlz’s panicked voice hit my ears.

'Huh?'

Bang bang bang!! Damage effects flashed across Meru’s screen. She whipped around, but two enemy players were already aiming at her from behind a rock.

She was already too low to fight. Meru tried to escape, but she got knocked down and finished off.

Down a player, Exlz’s team got picked off by another squad.

'…Sorry… I didn’t track the enemies’ positions…'

Meru’s voice was heavy with guilt after the wipe.

Exlz, in a flat tone, replied, 'My bad too. Should’ve called it out clearer.'

'Don’t sweat it! Scrims are for screwing up, so we’re basically winning by losing!' M4ine chimed in brightly, trying to lighten the mood.

'Happens sometimes. Even dogs fall from trees, right?'

'Monkeys, you mean? Stop being a total idiot.'

'…Sorry.'

Meru apologized again, her voice stiff.

A rare mistake… or is it?

Is this afternoon’s mess affecting her performance? Or am I overthinking it?

No, if it is affecting her… I can’t let it slide.

My job is to support Meru and her team’s lifestyle. My role as a housekeeper is to create an environment where Meru can focus on her game without distractions.

And yet, I’m the one causing a problem.

That’s unacceptable.

Especially if it’s because of some romantic nonsense—

That’s the one thing I can’t let happen.

So, what do I do?

“…”

It’s obvious.

Deal with the mess, and deal with it fast.

The next day, I headed to the Kichijoji house as usual, but Meru didn’t show up for a while.

I considered barging into her room like I did with Ranka, but with Meru, even if she’s not streaming, she might be on voice chat in-game. If it’s with those two I’ve already met, no problem, but if it’s some random stranger, it could spiral into an awkward mess. What to do?

I mulled it over, watching the ever-grumpy cat, Hanasaka, lounging elegantly on the catwalk above.

Maybe I don’t have to figure this out alone.

“Chinana.”

Chinana, the sister who pops out of her room the most, jolted like I’d startled her.

“Oh, uh, what’s up?”

“Can you grab Meru for me?”

“What’s it about? She leave her underwear lying around again?”

“Nah, it’s important. Gotta talk.”

“Uh.”

Chinana froze, like she’d turned to stone.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-im… important talk… like what?”

“About me and Meru… our relationship.”

“—”

Chinana went full statue mode, speechless.

What’s her deal?

As I tilted my head, Ranka came down the stairs, stretching dramatically. “Phew, finally done editing that video~”

Perfect timing.

“Ranka, got a sec?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Can you grab Meru? Gotta talk about… our future together. It’s important.”

“—”

Ranka froze mid-step on the stairs, like time itself had stopped.

…? What’s with them? Freezing up every time I say something. Like they’re my old flip phone or something.

“Ran-nee, Ran-nee!” Chinana, apparently rebooted, scurried to the bottom of the stairs, calling up to Ranka.

“Let’s stay calm and scope this out! No way this oblivious senpai would make a move that fast!”

“…Right, right, good call. Thanks, Chinana. Almost got carried away again…”

What’s with the whispering? Are they just ignoring my request?

With no other choice, I went back to work.

About thirty minutes later, while prepping dinner in the kitchen, I felt a presence behind me and turned.

Meru was at the kitchen entrance, glaring at me with a dangerous look in her eyes.

“Oh, Meru. Finally showed up—”

“…What’d you say to them?”

“Hm? Them?”

“Ran-nee and Chinana. You said something, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. I asked them to call you—”

I don’t remember the exact words, but… “I said we needed to talk about our future…”

“…Idiot…!”

For some reason, Meru’s ears went red as she snapped at me.

Meru dragged me away from dinner prep and hauled me into her room.

“I didn’t get into specifics, and I didn’t lie either… Thought it was a solid way to put it.”

“No way it was! Do you have any idea how much they grilled me? Wanna see the chat log?”

Clearly pissed, Meru plopped into her gaming chair by the PC desk.

I sat on a cushion on the floor, looking up at her like some subject begging a queen for mercy.

“Alright, I’ll apologize for that. Didn’t mean to stir up a mess. But… it’s not entirely a misunderstanding.”

“…”

“I’m sorry for running out yesterday. That said… I need you to hear why I can’t accept your feelings.”

“Why…?”

I nodded and started explaining, keeping it short but clear.

My dad was a pathetic guy.

I grew up watching him cling to women to get by.

And that conversation in the visitation room…

“—‘Get yourself a woman.’ said. That’s exactly why I can’t follow his words.”

“…I see,” Meru said softly.

Her voice carried a hint of loneliness. It hit me then, way too late—I’m rejecting her. She’s in the middle of a heartbreak.

But I couldn’t run this time. Not again.

That’s how I show her my sincerity.

“There’s one more thing… I need to tell you.”

Another reason I can’t accept her feelings.

“Do you… have a photo of me as a kid with you sisters?”

Kikuri said it’d probably get brushed off.

But I didn’t have any other way. Just ask straight-up.

Show as much sincerity as I could, hope she’d open up… that’s all I had.

Meru went quiet, taking in my question.

She closed her eyes, like she was hiding her gaze, searching for an answer.

Then, she said, “I do.”

Short and clear.

No room for misinterpretation, no gaps for doubt—she confirmed it.

So it was her…

The one on that phone call, claiming to be my ex—

“Where is it? Why do you—”

“No.”

Meru shook her head, crossing her index fingers in front of her lips.

“I’m not saying any more… not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll keep looking at me, right?”

“That’s… true, I’d have to, but…!”

“When I win the tournament, I’ll tell you everything.”

Her voice was firm, a declaration.

“About the photo. About my feelings. When I win, I’ll spill it all. So… until then, keep watching me. Cheer for me, a ton, a ton.”

It was like a plea.

Like a challenge.

I don’t know if it’s the right way to put it, but… in that moment, she had the most captivating look I’d ever seen.

“…Alright. Deal. …But one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t underestimate me. I’d cheer for you even without a deal like that.”

I’ll admit it.

From this moment on, Kichijoji Meru is my protagonist.

That night, I watched Meru’s stream on my phone’s tiny screen.

'There they are. Knew it.'

From Dragon’s Bed, their Landmark, northwest toward Riverside—M4ine was scoping out Meteor Plains through a sniper’s lens, sounding a bit exasperated.

'Gotta be TYM. One of ‘em’s doing some creepy character control while watching Bazaar’s side.'

'How much space are they hogging? That’s straight-up illegal squatting.'

Exlz grumbled.

TYM—Harin’s team. They’re spread across Meteor Plains, keeping other squads at bay.

The second ring includes most of Meteor Plains. Odds are, it’ll be the final battleground. If Harin’s team keeps their “squat” unchallenged, they’ll almost certainly take the win. We’ve gotta break their stronghold somehow.

Still, if one of them’s roaming solo without backup, a three-man push could take them out easily…

'What’s the play? If we rush with three, they’ll probably retreat to their base, and we’d at least take the area.'

'Nah, those buildings around there are wide open. We’d get flanked by another squad and wiped. If we push, we gotta aim to kick them out and steal their base.'

'Hmm… then we’d need to take out that lone guy first. Their base is that ridiculous high ground on the crane, right? We need a numbers advantage to even try.'

'They know we’re here?'

'Totally.'

'Then it’s rough… If they didn’t spot us, we could’ve sniped ‘em together, but… whatever. We’ll just hold here and—'

'We can take ‘em.'

Meru, silent until now, spoke up.

'If we take out that guy watching us solo, we’re good, right?'

'Yeah, but even a three-man push won’t catch ‘em. They’ll just slip away, moving all slick in the air.'

'Then I’ll push solo.'

Her voice was brimming with confidence.

Meru, with a boldness that made me catch my breath, threw out that reckless plan.

'I’ll 1v1 and make ‘em regret it. If I can chip their health, no amount of character control will save ‘em from follow-ups. Plus, we’ve got M4ine’s sniper.'

She used to say she couldn’t speak up on the spot.

That Meru, who was agonizing over that, just suggested this.

Seeing her growth hit me hard… and, yeah, I got a little choked up.

But the IGL makes the call. Exlz hesitated. 'W-Wait, that’s way too risky—'

'Hell yeah!'

M4ine, who’d just been skeptical, cut in with an excited shout.

'That’s dope! Teach that cocky spread-out jerk a lesson! Go for it, go for it! It’s just practice—trying stuff’s the whole point! Right, Liz?'

'Well… yeah, I guess…'

After a two-second groan, Exlz sighed, giving in.

'If it makes them think twice about spreading out, that’s a win…'

'IGL’s greenlit it! Go get ‘em, Urume!'

'Roger.'

And Meru charged out alone.

A split second later, the enemy noticed, spraying bullets to keep her back, but Meru closed the gap with slick movement, firing back with her assault rifle.

The enemy ran, slid, ducked behind cover—

In that brief moment, Meru was already in their face.

So fast…! What just happened? I couldn’t follow it with my limited game knowledge. All I know is Meru soared through the air, like an invisible hand pushed her, landing right beside the enemy.

Sliding along the ground, she locked onto their head, unloading bullets with pinpoint accuracy, like recoil didn’t exist.

Crack! The sound of their armor breaking.

'Got their health!'

'You’re a beast! Go, go, go!'

M4ine and Exlz jumped in, finishing the lone enemy. With a numbers advantage against Harin’s team, they stole their position—and held it, securing Determination.

It was obvious to anyone watching.

Meru’s newfound freedom in her ideas pushed AlphaPlanetPG closer to perfection. In the scrims that followed, their slump seemed like a distant memory as they racked up high placements, matching Harin’s team in Determination counts.

They could win.

Both as a viewer and for them, the confidence was real—

But a week before the main event, something no one saw coming happened.

'…Huh? Firefly’s scan doesn’t show through smoke anymore?'