The energy drink can made that satisfying crack when Kai popped it open, which was honestly the highlight of his day so far. And it was already 2 PM.
He took a sip and immediately regretted it. Monster Energy wasn't supposed to taste like disappointment, but somehow his did. Maybe because he'd been drinking them for breakfast for the past... God, how long had it been? The days kind of blurred together when you never left your room.
His pajama shirt had a stain on it that might have been pizza sauce from three days ago. Or blood from when he'd rage-quit so hard he'd punched his desk. Hard to tell at this point, and honestly, did it matter? It wasn't like anyone was going to see it.
The familiar weight of his controller felt good in his hands. Real. More real than anything else in his life, anyway.
Let's see what we're working with today.
He tabbed through his characters like a general reviewing his troops. Each one was perfect. Maxed stats, legendary gear, guild leader status. His pride and joy.
ShadowMaster_K - Level 100 Paladin, 1,203 hours. Guild leader of "Eternal Guardians" with 847 active members.
DragonSlayer_Kai - Level 99 Rogue, 2,156 hours. Server record holder for fastest dungeon clear.
VoidWalker_22 - Prestige 15 Warlock, 2,891 hours. Had gear that made people literally beg to join his raids.
The list went on. Seven games, seven perfect characters, seven different worlds where Kai Tanaka wasn't a complete waste of space.
In Realm of Eternity, he commanded armies. In Shadow Wars, players paid real money for his strategic advice. In Dragon's Crown, his guild controlled three of the most valuable territories on the server.
But right now, in his actual bedroom, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd changed his underwear.
The knock on his door was soft.
Please go away. Please just leave the food and go away.
"Kai? I brought lunch."
"Just leave it outside, Mom."
The door opened anyway.
Of course it did. Because respecting boundaries was apparently optional when you were a twenty-two-year-old man living in your childhood bedroom, surviving on energy drinks and the fantasy that this was somehow temporary.
Yuki Tanaka stepped into his room like she was entering a hazmat zone. Her eyes swept over the destruction, empty cans stacked in pyramids, clothes that had achieved independence from the laundry basket, and the general aura of someone who had given up on basic human functions.
She set a plate of actual food on his desk, moving aside some cans. Rice. Vegetables. Things that hadn't come from a vending machine.
"You're twenty-two, Kai."
Here we go.
He kept his eyes on the screen. His character was standing in the middle of a bustling city, surrounded by other players going about their digital lives. Everyone had somewhere to go, something to do. Even in the game, he was more successful than in real life.
"You need to do something. Your father thinks maybe you could work at the convenience store with Akira. His mother says he likes it, and the money isn't bad for part-time—"
"Akira scans barcodes for eight hours and pretends to care about customer service." Kai's grip tightened on his controller. "That's not a life. That's just... slow death with a paycheck."
His mom was quiet for a moment. Then: "It's something, Kai. It's more than..."
She didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to.
More than this. More than you.
When she left, closing the door with that soft click that somehow sounded like giving up, Kai stared at the food she'd brought. It smelled good. Normal. Like something a person who had their shit together might eat.
He took another sip of Monster Energy instead.
His phone buzzed with Discord notifications. Guild members asking when the next raid was, people wanting advice on builds, someone offering to pay him fifty bucks to help them clear a dungeon. In these worlds, people respected him. Needed him.
Out there, he couldn't even order pizza without stuttering.
The afternoon melted into evening. One quest, then another, then another. Level grinding was meditative, repetitive, safe. No real stakes, no real consequences. Just steady progress toward goals that didn't matter to anyone except him.
Somewhere around his fourth energy drink, Kai's eyes started to blur. The epic orchestral soundtrack that had been playing for hours started to sound like white noise. His hands cramped around the controller, but letting go felt like admitting something he wasn't ready to admit.
Just one more quest. One more level. One more achievement.
But his head was getting heavy, chin dropping toward his chest. The controller was warm in his hands, familiar and comforting. In the game, his character stood at the peak of some mountain, master of everything they could see.
In real life, Kai Tanaka fell asleep in his desk chair, surrounded by empty cans and broken promises to himself, still clutching the only thing that made him feel like he was worth something.