Chapter 1:

29.2

My Oshi is Canon Now?!

MILLIE POV:

It’s already evening by the time I get home, the adrenaline from my shift is long gone. I immediately end up fiddling with the acrylic standees on my desk for an embarrassing amount of time before finally sliding the centerpiece into place: a mini purple-and-white cake. It’s from that fancy new bakery that opened nearby last year, it's painfully cute, it fits in the palm of my hand and yet it cost me fifteen freaking dollars. But I had to snag it; it’s the perfect size for his nui, and the decorations match Akuto’s aesthetic so well, it feels like it was made just for him.

I grab my phone to snap a few photos of my oshikatsu spread from different angles before locking it into the tripod and setting it in front of the display. I hit record reaching for the D.I.Y uchiwa beside me – each side plastered with Akuto’s face ripped straight from his official promo art – and started lightly waving them in front of the camera.

“Happy Birthday, Akuto~” I sing softly into my phone.

I’ve been a fan of this little goober for the last, what, 7 years now? We've been through thick and thin together. From the last few years of high school to college and now my newly acquired office job.

‘I’m getting old… good thing Akuto’s 2D. He’ll never wrinkle. He’ll never dump me. He can’t leave me. He’s stuck with me. Till death do us apart.’

‘God I’m such a fuckin’ loser…but hey, at least it's not drugs.’

I compile all the best pictures, swiftly editing them to fit the Pinstagram cropping limitations.

My small collection isn’t just limited by money, hell, it's far from it. The bigger issue is that he’s nowhere near a fan favorite but that’s just part of the character tax. It’s a double-edged sword: you can find his merch for as cheap as 1,000 yen (tax and shipping not included), but because he’s so unpopular, there’s barely any official merchandise to begin with. I’ve had to rely on commissions and fan creators just to fill the gaps.

Sometimes I forget that I can draw too, but I can never quite capture Akuto’s beauty, the sharp, mocking curve of his smile or that icy, predatory gaze framed by those thick lashes. Not to mention my anatomy is absolutely chopped.

I’m nowhere near the skill level of those insanely talented Asian Flitter artists with keyboard-smash worthy usernames dropping breathtaking fanart into the timeline before disappearing into the algorithm forever.

The most I’ve accomplished in my art life is my prize possession, the fabric nui I custom ordered, but even then it’s lowkey outdated from my current style. His eyes are a bit too wide, the collar’s too big, and the details get muddy on fabric. I keep thinking about redoing it with how I draw now… or just commissioning someone who can capture him the way he deserves.

‘R.I.P my wallet… but it’s for a good cause anyway for the artists I subject into drawing him.’

I hope to commission popular artists so their followers can gawk at his gorgeous character design and hope to seek the source material. The manga, not the anime, obviously.

The animation studio behind it, let’s just say, lacked the ‘oomph.’ They replicated the art style from the manga perfectly, but when it came to the actual animation, it felt stiff and lifeless, like the frames barely moved.

It barely helped the series name as people saw him as a surface level villain getting killed off easily but what they don’t understand is the twist in the manga, he revives as a much bigger threat, he had manipulated the King when he was at his weakest to take his place as the new antagonist and ruled with an iron fist in the latter half of the series.

The manga has been on pause for the last 4 months due to the mangaka being unwell, so the fandom is stuck coping with theories and fanfictions to fill the void. As badly as I am gripping on the edge of the seat to see what happens next, I’d much rather they take all the time they need to get better first.

I’ve seen what rushing does to a story- and to the people making it- and as an artist, I get how much sweat, effort, and time goes into every panel, every word. I don’t want all that care and build-up on a story to be wasted like that.

“29.2,” I type on my phone, thumbs flying as I caption the post. “Even if your birthday only exists once every leap year, my love for you exists every second of each year.” I tack on all the necessary tags and hit upload.

‘Urgh, if only his fanmade standee came on the day 2 days before like the site estimated but nooo, it just had to be delayed by a week (thanks customs).’

Even with Akuto’s recent pivot into the spotlight, it's too bad that the creator doesn’t think of him as relevant enough to give him an actual official birthday unlike the other main cast. But the small online fandom space I’ve been a part of that dedicates their servers to him has unanimously decided that his birthday falls on 29th of February. All based on that one throwaway line where he scoffs at trivial things like birthdays, mentioning how his only comes around every four years thanks to his weird aging.

Speaking of, I tap on my phone screen to the Harmony app, opening the server dedicated to fangirling over Akuto, AkutoMains. It only had about 20 active members on it but it was more than enough to keep us Akulings occupied.

I post the images from earlier into the birthday event channel with it racking up various heart emoji reactions and tag everyone with the @Akuling tag on the server.

YonbansIchiban: "Anyone still up for a quick call?"

Considering how similar in timezones and how late some other users were spending to celebrate his birthday.

A few accounts respond in a timely manner.

Akut0es: "Gimme a sec, I'll make tea rq."

Akuswife: "Pausing the MMG marathon for Akuto~"

Akutoster: “Wait @Akuswife, you were watching it too?! I’m currently rewatching his debut episode. His OST still sends me chills.”

One by one everyone hopped into the voice chat. I make haste to turn on my PC next to me to join before making a few clicks to turn on my webcam and lowering it to only show past my shoulders.

“Hewooo everynyan.” I press my nui’s giant bobble head against the camera.

Everyone else in the channel follows suit with a greeting and showing off part of their own Akuto collection, whether its keychains, badges or standees of his.

"Ok first off, thank you for popping in at the last minute. Let's all give words of affirmation to our witty, charming akuma Akuto."

User Akutoster goes first, “To our little gremlin, who brings us eternal joy!”

“To the ray of hope in our dim lives!” declares Akut0es.

“Forever ichiban in our hearts! Us Pre-King arc enjoyers knew his worth first time.” affirms Akuswife.

“Kyaaa, I’m so arigatoful to the lone author and illustrator Puribu who always draws Akuto serving immaculately.” Akkyun’s Kanojo fangirls.

It's finally my turn to speak, “Akkun, I still remember first stumbling across you on the internet and being enamoured by your classy design, only to further investigate and end up binge reading Miracle Marble Girls that same night. As much as I loved the heroine’s journey, I couldn’t help but anticipate your slow-burning schemes imposed on them. The quiet cruelty in your gaze and the way everything collapsed perfectly within your grasp.”

I sigh with a lace of acceptance, “Even if you were treated as fodder at the start, we are so glad Puribu decided to bring you back into the narrative, because it means more of you.”

“We found each other because of you.”

“In this small community, a dedicated cult of people who found each other through you, losing their minds over your comeback, fangirling over you on screen, and staying up too late theorising what you’d do next.”

"You were scripted to fade but instead, you became relevant to everyone’s heart.”

“Amen!” One user cheers to which I snort.

Once we all say our heartfelt messages we move onto the best part, “Akuto fanfic readdinnng!”

Collective cheers over the call with some lag in between.

“We have to start with YonbansIchiban’s fic- it’s basically tradition at this point,” someone suggests.

“Wait what, which one?” pipes up a user I didn’t recognize.

“Oh, ‘Silver-lining’ Goated fic.” someone replies immediately.

“No way! You wrote it?? I’ve been reading this fic for months and had no idea the author was just here!”

My lips curl into a stupid smile before I lean into the camera. “Small world innit? HummingFleur was my old alias back in high school, it’s not like I had anything better to do during my classes.”

The chat erupts with laughter.“OMG YESSS. The part where the reader is manipulated into working under him but he ends up using her personally was so- UGH so hot!” User Akuswife, with their camera on, viscerally reacts by practically slamming her Akuto standee into the carpet.

“YESSS. That line ‘Hey- you do know there are other ways to be my ichiban right?’ like, YES SIR SIGN ME UP, I AM ALL YOURS.”

“Seriously, it still baffles me how close this was to how it played out in canon,” someone added. “Like, the whole revival, the way he bided his time… you basically predicted it years ago.”

“Pwssh. Yeah, right.” I snorted, waving it off like it was nothing. What had once been a moderately read x-reader fic I’d dashed off in my tween years: cringey prose, self-indulgent tropes, pure wish-fulfillment with Akuto, had somehow aged into prophecy within the community.

Like I’d accidentally tripped into being a visionary instead of just a bored kid with too much free time and an unhealthy attachment to a forgotten villain.

‘Guess I really did peak at 17. I mean, come on, that basically makes me his number one fan, right?’

“Hey, does that mean y’all agree that I deserve to self-proclaim myself as his number one fan?”

Collective overspeaking occurs with varying levels of disagreement, though it's obviously all in jest.

“Girl you wish.”

“Naauurr get in line.”

“He’s mine actually.”

“Laddiess,” I interject, voice low and teasing. “I was simply joking, I actually proclaim myself as his wife.”

For emphasis, I press a long, exaggerated kiss on my nui’s silken cheek for the camera. “Mwaahh.”

The users in voice chat snort at my antics, laughter echoing over the voice call. Moments later, the plush vibrated violently in my hand, a sharp jolt that made me drop it on the table.

It lands with a soft thud… and then everything starts happening at once.

The plush’s threads begin to unravel, tiny stitches pulling apart like someone is tugging at them from within. The silky fabric stretches and shimmers, curling and twisting unnaturally, as though the plush itself is melting and reforming.

I stumble backwards, accidentally bumping into the coffee table with the edge scraping lightly against the floor.

The stuffing bursts free, soft clumps multiplying and spiraling upward while wisps of cloth begin to wind around it, twisting and tightening as the fabric and stuffing merge. Inch by inch, the plush reshapes itself, rising into something taller, more human-shaped.

My breath catching, heart pounding as my eyes slowly tracked the figure forming where the plush had been.

He stood upright on the sofa, impossibly still, perfectly human and real. The same icy gaze I had obsessed over in screenshots and fanart, now real, blank, and unreadable.

He steps down from the couch with such grace before idly brushing invisible dust off his shoulder.

Time slows as my eyes meet his. I couldn’t move. My eyes the size of saucers as awe and disbelief pins me in place. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t speaking – just there, impossibly alive, watching me with that slow, deliberate intensity that made the room feel impossibly small.

“Chat did you just see th-”

My head slowly turns to my computer screen but I’m met with black, the app booted me off the service.

‘D-Did anyone even get to see that before I got kicked?!’