【Hiatus】

Kyroxfun 

[I sincerely apologise for the inconvenience I may have caused to my beloved fans as well as my fellow streamers. I wish to clarify the recent accusations about being involved with my aunt. The woman in question isn't my biological aunt but rather my aunt by marriage. She and I are also not on good terms, and it's been years since I last talked to her. I was never involved with her in any kind of romantic relationship. I am sorry that my beloved fans had to face this all. I am truly sorry.]

The post uploaded by the management did its job.

The internet argued, dissected, and speculated, but most of his fans chose to believe him. That should have been the end of it all.

Akira even thought he could continue streaming, pretending nothing happened.

But how could he?

He stared at the screen, looking past the comments, posts, and videos, all about him.  The entire day, the world had decided it knew him better than he knew himself. 

He snapped.

The words blurred as he typed; his hands continued to shake. 

Kyroxfun
[That stupid vodcast crew made baseless accusations. I think they should find a woman other than my aunt.]

[I plan on going on an indefinite hiatus.]

A new debate erupted on the internet. 

[Kyroxfun had nothing to do with that brown-haired girl nor Dream_warrior03.]

[His aunt won.]

[Talk about degenerate.]

[Is it still incest if it's his aunt by marriage?]

The career he had built on self-deprecation and secondhand embarrassment felt like slipping through his fingers. In the end, there is no one but myself to blame for everything.

 He stayed but the night, once more drowning himself in smoking. 

The next day, early in the morning, he put on his mask and left the apartment. 

The hallway felt colder than usual. Akira walked without purpose, watching other residents pass by—people who lived near him, people he had never spoken to. The only time he had ever interacted with anyone here was when he warned the manager about the flowers.

And even then, no one had listened.

Outside, the lawns were neatly trimmed, almost artificial. He sat on a bench and immediately stood again; it felt weird to be sitting idly.

That was when he noticed someone watching him.

A woman stood nearby with a young child, no older than six. The child tugged insistently at her skirt, whining. When Akira’s gaze met hers, she looked away quickly, fixing the boy’s hair as if she’d been caught doing something improper.

She must live here.

“M-morning.” She smiled, waving at him.

“Morning.” Akira approached, crouching in front of the child. “Hey, kiddo.” He tugged his mask up slightly. “You shouldn’t bother your mom like that.”

The child stuck his tongue out at him.

“Oh—I’m so sorry,” the woman said quickly. “Say sorry to him.”

The boy shook his head.

Akira straightened slightly. “It’s fine,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have bothered him.”

“No—don’t be like that!” The woman grabbed the child’s arm, turning him sharply. “Apologise.”

“S-sorry,” the boy muttered before freeing himself and running off.

The woman laughed nervously. “You’re Akira… from apartment 202, right?”

Akira blinked. “You know me?”

“We’ve met before,” she said, smiling too quickly. “You don’t remember? I live on the same floor.”

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his head. “Sorry. I’m not good with faces.”

She seemed disappointed, just for a moment.

“Is he always like that?” Akira asked, gesturing towards the child. “Grumpy?”

“I’m not sure,” she said softly. “He lives with his father.”

Akira pressed his lips together. Maybe that was too personal.

Her gaze lingered on his face. “Your eyes are puffy,” she said, stepping closer. Her hand landed on his shoulder without hesitation. “Did you cry?”

“N-no,” he replied, looking away.

She didn’t move her hand. She added gently. “You look like the type who hides things.” Her fingers brushed slightly, reassuringly. “You should have someone to confide in.”

Jitsuko’s face flickered through his mind. Heat crept up his neck.

The woman noticed immediately. “Oh?” She stepped closer. “You have someone?”

He nodded.

“How sweet,” she said, smiling. “You can drop by apartment 210 anytime if you need something.”

“You and your son can come to mine, too,” Akira replied automatically. “I’m usually alone.”

“I know,” she said lightly.

She went inside.

Akira stayed outside longer than he meant to. He hadn’t even realized the moment the conversation ended.

When he reached back to his apartment. A bouquet lay outside. He picked it up and brought it inside.

At least one of my fans still loves me.

The hiatus stretched into a week. His days blurred together: convenience store runs, aimless walks, sitting on benches without sitting still.

The manager kept calling. Akira ignored him. He still resented him for not helping Akira on that vodcast.

Jitsuko visited often. They visited cafes and parks. Those moments made him think it wasn’t too bad to stop streaming.

But the need for validation didn’t disappear.

Jitsuko had boundaries he wouldn’t cross.

Streaming didn’t stop him from getting the hollow affirmation. And neither did his fans.

He craved streaming.

Even his fans were waiting for him; they simply wanted him. He was theirs, and it didn’t matter if he had scandals.

Akira exhaled, reading through his DMs; he didn’t reply, but he felt complete by only reading them.

“So”, Jitsuko said, mixing batter, “have you thought about streaming again?”

Akira handed her an egg. “I don’t know.”

They were baking a cake on her day off and his endless free time. She cracked the egg into the bowl.

“You could take a high school equivalency exam,” she suggested.

“I liked streaming,” he said quietly, passing her another egg. “Maybe I could do both.”

“No pressure,” she replied. “Do what you want.”

He hesitated. “Streaming feels… fulfilling.”

“There are other ways to feel fulfilled,” Jitsuko said gently. “Ways that don’t depend on people watching you.”

Akira didn’t answer.