The sun was dipping low when Kai finally sat back down at his desk and opened the streaming software.
There was no fanfare. No countdown timer. No tweet. No announcement.
He wasn't even sure why he clicked "Start Stream" that evening. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the leftover stir-fried noodles cooling beside his keyboard. Or maybe it was the memory of his old self—twenty-eight, tired, stretched thin—wondering what life could've looked like if he'd just tried this earlier.
This time, he wouldn't wonder.
He'd just press the button.
"🔴 Live – 00:00:01"
A little red dot blinked in the corner of his screen. That was it. He was live.
He looked at himself in the webcam window. Slightly awkward posture. Black hoodie. Clean background. Dim lighting that made him look like he lived in a cave. It wasn't glamorous.
But it was real.
Kai cleared his throat and smiled faintly at the empty chat box.
"Hey," he said into his mic. "I guess I'm doing this now."
No one replied.He didn't expect them to.
For the next hour, Kai played a retro pixel-art RPG. It was one of his old comfort games—Celestials and Salt. The kind of thing you booted up not to win, but to feel something cozy and nostalgic.
He didn't shout. He didn't overreact. He just commented on the game casually, sometimes making dry jokes, sometimes humming along to the 16-bit soundtrack.
At some point, a little ding echoed in his headset.
User123 joined.
He paused mid-battle, blinking.
A viewer?
He checked chat. Nothing. Silent lurker. Probably bored and bouncing through streams, trying to find something louder, funnier, more chaotic.
Still, Kai smiled.
"Welcome," he said. "Hope you like old-school turn-based combat and deadpan commentary."
The viewer didn't leave.
They stayed through the next quest. Through the accidental death to a fire slime. Through a minor rant about how health potions were overpriced in this game. At one point, the viewer even sent a single message:
"This game's music is so good."
Kai nodded, his grin growing wider.
"Right? I used to play this with headphones on in high school and pretend I was in an anime opening."
No reply. But that was enough. For a first stream, it was more than he expected.
By the time he wrapped up—two and a half hours later—his viewer count had peaked at 2. One of them might've just been a bot.
Still, it felt like a win.
He saved the VOD, added a timestamp titled "First Real Viewer!", and logged off with a soft sigh.
Outside, the streetlights buzzed quietly. Someone was laughing on a balcony nearby. A cat walked across the rooftop visible through Kai's window, tail flicking like it owned the sky.
He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
"Not bad."
That night, he updated Slot 3 on his Save & Load system.
✅ Slot 3: "First Stream – 2 Viewers, 0 Regrets"
He stared at the text for a while. Then added a smiley face.
✅ Slot 3: "First Stream – 2 Viewers, 0 Regrets :)"
The system shimmered faintly, recognizing the save. Just one of three slots, but already meaningful.
He left Slot 1 alone—the original day. The one he swore he'd never overwrite.
He'd always need one save that let him go all the way back, if things ever felt too far gone.
But this? This new life?
It was already better than before.
And it was only beginning.
The next morning, Kai did something he hadn't done in years: he messaged someone from the past.
Not the girl.
Not yet.
Instead, he opened Discord and typed slowly, carefully, into an old server that had been silent for months.
Kai (Kaijo):
"Hey. Don't know if anyone still checks this. Just wanted to say I've been thinking about the old days. Miss the game nights."
No pressure. No dramatic reunion.
Just a small stone tossed into the pond, letting the ripples go where they may.
He closed Discord without waiting for a reply.
And returned to his coffee, the soft breeze through the cracked window, and the slow grind of becoming something again—this time, on his own terms.
SUPPORT (Early Chapters): patreon.com/KyJo_
YT GAMING: https://www.youtube.com/@KyJoGaming
DISCORD: https://discord.gg/v2uSTygMgb