Daniel's POV.
" As long as she remembers that, she's got me by the throat," I thought bitterly. "What if I pushed her down the stairs to give her amnesia?"
"Why are you even here, you witch?" I snapped.
"I don't have classes today, so I thought I'd visit your sister. But she's still asleep, so I figured I'd hang out here and read," she replied casually.
She strolled into my room, still carrying her basket of apples, and plopped it down on my PC desk—right on top of my precious keyboard. I couldn't tell if she didn't notice or was deliberately trying to annoy me further.
"Don't you have any new comics? Your old ones are so lame," she said, rummaging through my stuff.
"Nobody asked you to read them! If you don't like the themes, you're free to leave my room," I shot back.
This woman with long black hair and a slender figure was Elisa Sandoval, my infuriating neighbor. She's 22, a rich kid, though you wouldn't guess it from her casual t-shirt and ridiculously short shorts that made it seem like her family couldn't afford proper clothes.
She's friends with my siblings, which is why she feels entitled to barge into our house. My parents let her come and go, probably because her family's wealthy, and they think there's something to gain from her. It's maddening.
I quickly moved the basket off my keyboard and placed it on a table by the window. My brow furrowed as I watched her carelessly flip through my manga collection, tossing books onto my bed while eating an apple. I cringed at the thought of juice dripping onto my precious manga.
"Hey, if you're going to read my manga, put down that apple! You'll get juice on them!" I scolded.
"Oh, come on, they're just comics. Besides, these are so old you should throw them out or give them to kids instead of hoarding them," she replied dismissively.
"They're called a collection for a reason—they're meant to be kept! And please, stop scattering my stuff!" I shouted.
She didn't care about my anger. Instead, she offered me an apple, which I promptly refused, glaring to make it clear I didn't want her here.
"Don't bring food to my room again. I can go downstairs myself," I told her.
"Actually, I didn't bring this for you. It's for me to snack on while I read. But you can have one if you want," she said with a smirk.
I froze, embarrassed for assuming the apples were for me. Instead of backing down, I doubled down on my pride. "I don't want anything from you. I might end up owing you something," I snapped.
"Oh, relax, Didi. These aren't even mine. I just saw them on your kitchen table downstairs," she said nonchalantly.
I was stunned. She had the nerve to eat our apples and offer me one like she'd bought them herself. "You're unbelievable," I muttered, grabbing a towel from my closet.
I tossed the towel at her face, telling her to use it to keep my manga clean. Surprisingly, she didn't complain and accepted it to wipe her hands.
I gave up trying to control her mess. Scolding her would only stress me out more. I needed to enjoy my day off, so I headed to my chair to start my otaku day, determined to ignore her.
I settled in front of my PC and started browsing the internet, ready to indulge. My plan was to buy new games or, better yet, those Figma collectible figures I'd always wanted but couldn't afford before—thanks to my stingy mom who refused to support my hobbies. These are detailed figures of anime characters, available on online shops, but they come with a hefty price tag, ranging from two thousand to six thousand pesos or more for a single small figure.
To some, spending that much on a tiny "toy" seems absurd—enough to cover a month's worth of water, electricity, and internet bills. To them, it's a waste of money. But to me, it's different.
For reasons I couldn't quite grasp, Elisa took an interest and leaned in to criticize my choices, acting like my mom with her judgmental remarks. "Wait, don't tell me you're buying those toys again? You already have so many!" she said, peering over my shoulder at the monitor.
"Can you back off? These aren't toys—they're collectible figures," I snapped, pushing her face away. But instead of leaving, she leaned closer, reading the screen, and gasped when she saw the prices of the items I was eyeing.
As expected from someone like her, she immediately objected to my purchases. It's always the same—when people find out you're spending big on something like this, they label you as extravagant or wasteful. That's exactly what Elisa was doing to me now.
"You're throwing money away on those things. If you spent it on food instead, at least you'd be full," she scolded, her eyes filled with disappointment and pity, as if she were the one who slaved away to earn the money I was about to spend.
I wasn't about to let her win. I shot back, defending myself. Who cares about her opinion? She wasn't the one spending, and she definitely wasn't the one enduring the factory's grueling work to earn that money for my collection.
I gave her a piece of my mind, though I kept it sharp and curt. She didn't seem fazed, probably used to my grumpiness by now, expecting my retorts. "You know, Didi, no matter how I look at it, spending on those toys is just a waste. You can't even use them," she said, shaking her head.
This girl was infuriating. If I could, I'd kick her out of my room. I held back from snapping harder, but she was pushing me to my limit. What's the difference between my buying a Rem figure and her splurging on clothes or accessories just to look good? Is it because I don't "use" my figures every day? People buy plenty of things they don't use daily—wedding rings, vases, picture frames—all just for show.
"Hmm, I don't know, but I think spending on those things is way more worth it than on toys," she replied smugly.
Wait, is she saying her luxuries matter more? They're all just material things, no different from what I'm doing. Yet society gives her purchases higher value, while belittling otakus like me for collecting figures.
"If you think your luxuries are important to you, it's the same for me with my anime collection," I argued. Everything is just material—it only holds value based on who's looking at it. I explained that I could see gold as just another alloy or a diamond as a mere crystal in broken glass. If "worth" is about an item's utility, then people spending fortunes on precious stones and metals are the real fools.
"You think so weirdly, Didi. It's simple—gold is gold, and plastic is plastic. How can you say your toys are more valuable than gold?" Elisa said, biting into her apple with a skeptical look.
"Why? Because no matter how expensive those things are, they mean nothing to me if I base it on my needs and their importance to me," I countered.
Instead of being impressed by my reasoning, she just stared at me, unimpressed, shaking her head with a grimace that felt downright insulting. She let out an exasperated sigh, as if my words were nonsense, before walking back to my bed to continue reading my manga.
Her reaction pissed me off, but I decided not to engage further. She was already ruining my otaku joy, and I needed to focus on my day off. I needed some good vibes.