The Otaku Has a Visitor

“Haru, Kotone! Be good, okay?” My mother smiled at us, through the threshold of our front door.

“Take care of your brother, Kotone dear.” She added, while Kotone arched an inquisitive brow, yet didn’t elaborate on her sentiment.

“Haruhi, you sure you can manage?” My father asked, before he closed the door.

“Sure, sure. Go have fun on your trip.” I gave him a shrug, and soon after our parents were off.

As one could guess, they were going on a trip till tomorrow, since today was Sunday, and they also lined up a day off for the day after.

With my leg propped up on a pillow, sitting uncomfortably, within the confines of a set of bandages, I eyed Kotone who walked casually up to the fridge and started taking out item after item.

“What the hell?”

“Silence, weakling.”

She replied, clutching the items in her arms, and moving out of the kitchen.

What seemed to be in her embrace, was a can of soda, some roasted beef (?), and leftovers from today’s breakfast.

“I shall be in my room. If you need me. A word of advice; don’t.”

With a cutesy smile, my 10-year-old sister bailed on me, her bedroom door closing with a click.

“That little rascal…” I sighed, looking over my sorry state. I visited a doctor after I was withdrawn from the match yesterday, and I was told my leg would be needing rest for at least one, maybe two weeks. Meaning I couldn’t walk even if the house caught on fire.

Well, maybe I could, but still.

Parents weren’t home, and my sister was incapable of anything but watching anime and eating all our emergency rations. Thus, I was left to my own devices, unable to move.

I flipped through the channels on our living room’s TV, absentmindedly watching the shifting colorful frames with a scowl.

I had half a mind to stream some anime, but I was all caught up with the seasonals, including Lilia-chan. And it wouldn’t be for a few hours since the next episode was released too…

Through my thoughts, a weird visual emerged. It was Ichika’s empty seat on the stands, during yesterday’s match. The thought of WHY she could have left wouldn’t dare leave my mind, I didn’t see her after either, and we didn’t exchange any texts. What was I supposed to text her anyway? Ask her why she left?

She was clearly bored and uninterested after all.

“Agh!” I shook my head, trying to chase away those thoughts. Why am I thinking about it in the first place?

Ding.

As I was consumed in my inner struggle, the ringing of the doorbell caught my attention.

Eh? Who could that be? Did my parents forget something?

Somewhere deep within me I wished they had come back to take Kotone with them before she became a shut-in for good.

Seeing as to how my sister would never go answer the door, using her age as an excuse, I supported myself on a crutch and limped towards the entrance.

Ding

“Coming!” I cried out, in response to the constant pinging of the doorbell.

Not in the mood for tiptoeing around, I opened the door to the cause of my ruined peace and quiet.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Instead of my parents, or an assailant, on my doorstep stood none other than my fake girlfriend, Ichika herself. She wore a nice orange blouse, along with a cute black skirt.

“What does Hm mean?”

“Hm is another way to express: what the hell is Ichika doing at my doorstep?”

“Is it now?” She folded her arms across her chest, looking over me from head to toe. Her gaze lingered slightly longer over a specific area however.

My injured leg.

“…Your parents aren’t home, right?” She asked, turning away from me with a light blush.

How did she…? Oh yeah, I might have told her something along those lines last time we met. Was I always the one to overshare?

“Nope.” I shrugged, as Ichika cleared her throat and turned back to me.

“Can I… come in?” She voiced, clutching a convenience store plastic back in her hands.

Oh… she wanted to visit? Visit me?

That sounded odd for someone like Ichika, but I couldn’t very well deny her since she came all the way out here.

“Sure, why not.”

I stepped to the side, letting her in.

She gingerly took off her shoes, and mouthed a barely audible “thanks for having me”, before stepping further into the living space.

Our household was humble, with the TV set and sofa stationed to the side, across from the dining area, and the kitchen at the furthest corner.

Further down the hallway, were me and Kotone’s rooms, but Ichika didn’t need to see the state my room was in right now.

I limped towards her, as she stood and stared silently for a few seconds.

Why is she so… timid all of a sudden?

Wait…

“How did you even know where I live?”

Was she stalking me?

“What?” She perked up, turning my way.

“My place. How?”

“Oh!” She nodded. “My father drove you here last Sunday remember? I just went through his GPS searches on the app and—“

“Stalker.” I mouthed, narrowed eyes and all.

“What?!” She stomped her foot, her face dyed crimson yet again. “I’m not a s-stalker!”

“Then why come here, pray tell, Ichika-san?”

“E-eh…” Suddenly, her spank was out the window again, as she fiddled with her thumbs. “You see…”

“I see…?” I urged her on, mentally slapping myself for not getting popcorn. Timid Ichika was quite the sight!

“I just thought, since your parents weren’t home… and… you…” She gulped. “Got injured? Can’t walk? Maybe you needed something? Help? Maybe…?”

It was evident Ichika didn’t have the mental capacity to look me in the eye while mumbling all that, but the context didn’t fail to reach me.

“Heh…” I suppressed a chuckle. She came all the way here to see if I needed something because I got injured? Then she DID see me getting injured?

Wait… maybe it’s because she needs more proof for her parents? Oh, I’m treating Haruhi selfies?

Yeah, that must be it.

Nevertheless, her help was appreciated.

“Why are you laughing…?” She pouted, still refusing to look at me.

Even so, there still was some room for teasing here.

“I find it cute that you’re worried Ichika-chan…” I smirked, while I witnessed her face erupt in embarrassment.

“I-I w-wasn’t… THAT worried! Maybe just a… little?” She somehow managed to spell out the words.

It was sort of endearing when Ichika’s embarrassment caused her brain to forget all about human speech patterns.

Yet still unsatisfied, I pressed on.

“Hmm, so you say, but you being here speaks volumes about your motives!”

“S-shyatup!”

“What is that? I can’t speak Ichikish!”

“Ichi…kisshhh?!”

She closed her eyes, unable to take the embarrassment any longer, and stumbled forward with her arms thrust out, probably to shut my mouth. As she usually did, might I add.

“I can’t understand… maybe try speaking Japanese Ichika-san?” I laughed at her stumbling like a zombie towards me, her glasses askew and her eyes forming two thin lines.

I just couldn’t get enough of teasing her… And I didn’t know why. Yet her reactions stirred something within me. Something—

“Shutup—“

“Woah Ichika!”

Unaware of her surroundings in her quest of silencing me, she somehow managed to trip over herself, my crutch, and also me, the human being.

“WOAAAH!!!”

“ICHIKAAAA!”

Like a pair of utter idiots Ichika body slammed me to the ground with a thud, as our bodies laid sprawled out onto my living room floor.

“Ouch!” My leg, and frankly my whole body stung after that fall. “What the hell do you think you’re—“

“…”

Right before I could start firing complaints at her, my whole brain froze at the sight of her towering over me, her glasses and hair out of place, and her eyes shining silently, in a trance of magic.

“I…” She uttered, my head resting on the floor between her elbows. She was only a mere breath away. A touch. An inch.

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, a disgusted exclamation from ahead broke the tranquil state we found ourselves in.

“Haaah…” Exasperated, the voice of my sister echoed across the hallway. “Did you seriously order another escort girl, onii-chan?”

“Escort?!”

“ANOTHER?!”