【The differences between them】

Akira rushed into the kitchen and yanked the fridge open. It had many things: cake from last night, takeout boxes and even juice bottles pushed to the back.

“Hmmm.” He pulled out the tart and set it on the counter, then grabbed a bottle of juice. His fingers lingered on the ramen box before he pushed it back in and shut the door.

“I don’t even remember when I ate that.”

He opened and shut different cabinet doors. “Glasses… where are the glasses?”

He crouched, checked the bottom cabinets, stood, and checked the upper ones again.

“The stupid maid never puts things where I can—”

He found them. Guest glasses, lined neatly on the top shelf.

Then another frantic search, this time for plates. He settled on the mismatched ones he could find; he finally gave up and slumped onto the couch.

“This is the first time she’s coming,” he muttered. “Should I order lunch? Or call the maid to cook?”

The thought made his jaw tighten.

She’ll snitch to Aunt like always.

His gaze landed on the breakfast plates still on the table. He shot upright, gathered them, and dumped them into the sink. The clatter echoed too loudly in the quiet apartment.

Now he remembered his room.

He rushed in, picking up the clothes from the floor, and stuffed them into the laundry basket. He paused at the foot of his bed, staring at the wrinkled sheets.

“She’s not planning to see this,” he told himself.

Still, he tried to fix it.

The first attempt failed. The second was worse. By the third, his patience was gone, but at the very least the bed was presentable.

The doorbell rang.

His heart skipped a beat.

He hurried to the door, already forming a threat in his head if it was the maid. 

He yanked it open.

Jitsuko stood there.

Her hair was tied into a neat bun, a long pink floral skirt brushing her ankles. A bakery bag hung from her wrist. She smiled.

“Hello, Akira.”

He stepped aside. “I’m—yeah. Come in. Welcome.”

She entered slowly, eyes moving over the apartment. “Your place is well-maintained.”

He almost laughed.

She handed him the bakery bag. Inside were neatly packed sandwiches. He followed her to the lounge, where she stopped in front of the framed portrait on the wall.

“Your family?”

Akira nodded and joined her.

“He looks just like you,” she said.

He exhaled, a short sound. “Yeah. My late uncle.”

She pointed to the woman beside him in the photo. “And this is your aunt? The one who raised you?”

“Yes.”

He stepped away first, settling onto the couch. Jitsuko stood there a moment longer before sitting beside him. He opened the bag and handed her a sandwich.

“Did you see the latest episode of Internal Conflict?” he asked, leaning back. “Ame and Izuna finally kissed.”

“Yes.” She frowned. “Honestly, they were just using each other. What a disappointment.”

“I thought they suited each other.”

“That’s your opinion,” she said calmly. “But they were leeching off one another.”

“Hmm.” He leaned closer, smiling. “And if it’s only one leech?”

She shot him a look. “You better not be making some dark joke.”

Akira finished his sandwich quietly, then stood and brought out the tarts and juice.

“Tomorrow’s the stream,” she said, lifting her glass. “Let’s do well.”

He nodded, but the words barely registered.

For a week, they had been together. It was everything he could wish for.

Tomorrow, it would end.

“J-jitsuko,” he said, lowering his head. “You never told me if you like me or not. It was… nice, having someone around because it’s mostly lonely.”

“Are you guilt-tripping me into saying I love you?” She sighed.  “You don’t want pity, love, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” he said immediately. “As long as it’s love. Any form works.

She stared at him.

“Do you pity me?” he pressed. “Is that why you’re nice to me?”

“You’re just the pampered type,” she said. “Not pitiful.”

"You can thank my aunt for that." He almost rolled his eyes.

“She must be very caring,” Jitsuko added.

“Yeah,” he said. “A lot.”

The next day.

“Hey, my precious ones!” Akira’s voice echoed out as the stream went live. “Today we’re collaborating with Nyn_pi.”

He adjusted his mic as Jitsuko’s model appeared onscreen, waving.

“Hello, everyone.”

The chat flooded immediately, most of it asking about Sanae.

Jitsuko was focused, patient, and engaging in a quiet way. She didn’t have a fanatic audience like him or Sanae—no screaming chat, no obsession.

Normally, he would’ve called that boring.

But it was her, so he told himself she was educational and that was valuable content.

The stream was split cleanly into two segments. 

“Games first, then animation. Stick around and you’ll be impressed.” Akira said brightly.

They didn’t.

When the stream ended two hours later, Akira stared at the view count.

Lower than usual.

He opened the insights. Strong numbers in the first half. A sharp drop in the second.

My fans didn’t stay.

Her content clashed with his. It was too calm and too slow. The downside was obvious.

“But I had fun,” he muttered.

He lit a cigarette and stared at the screen as smoke curled upward.

What should I do?

Collaborate with Sanae again?

Or maybe Nazuna?

He kept scrolling; the poor performance of the stream didn't sit right. The low numbers haunted him.

Then he came upon a post.

[Kyroxfun is definitely not dating @Dream_warrior03. He was at a cafe near the xxx district with a brown-haired girl. They seemed close, like a couple.]

He blinked.

I was found?