Even though this was only their second meeting, Takanashi Mirai spoke to Kuroha Akira with the casual familiarity of an old gaming buddy who'd been raiding together for years.
"In the time you haven't been here, I have already cleared the highest difficulty of Magic Sword Chronicles 3!" she announced proudly, puffing out her chest.
Kuroha Akira hurriedly applauded her, his enthusiasm dialed up to maximum.
"Oh! Sugoi! That's too strong! As expected of Takanashi-san, you really are a gaming expert!"
"…"
The overly exaggerated praise made Takanashi Mirai speechless. She narrowed her eyes, her expression shifting to one of suspicious scrutiny—so similar to her mother's that it was almost uncanny.
She actually wanted to say to Kuroha Akira, "So when are you going to beat the final boss?" But she also knew that things were not that simple. There was always a catch, always a price to pay.
If she wanted Kuroha Akira to continue and clear Magic Sword Chronicles 3, she would definitely have to give something in return. Or rather, she would have to play a game with him—engage in the very social interaction she had been avoiding for months.
After all, Takanashi Mirai wasn't an idiot. She certainly knew what Kuroha Akira was here for, and she also knew that Kuroha Akira was deliberately slowing down the game's pace. She had even witnessed several brain-hemorrhage-inducing team wipes in the middle of his playthrough—though she couldn't completely rule out the possibility that he was just genuinely that bad.
But even knowing all that, hearing those obviously seductive conversations from the living room still made her blood rush. The way he and her mother talked so easily, so naturally, was like nails on a chalkboard to her isolationist sensibilities.
What annoyed her the most was that even when she tried to convince herself not to listen to their conversations anymore, her mind was filled with their words the moment she left the door. She'd find herself absent-minded when doing other things, her thoughts drifting back to whatever game they were discussing.
Finally, she angrily returned to the door to continue listening—and even couldn't help but open a crack to peek inside. Because they were talking about games!
Takanashi Mirai didn't have much of a gaming discussion atmosphere at school, and there weren't any particularly obvious otaku boys or girls in her class. She had drawn the short straw when she was assigned to her class—a typical university preparatory class with a strong study atmosphere. During breaks, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, forming a sharp contrast with the lively chaos of Class One next door.
The only relatively lively group in her class was the gyaru clique discussing fashion and music, and Takanashi Mirai had once been a part of them. But now they had fallen out due to a fight—a bitter, nasty falling out that still made her blood boil when she thought about it.
Recalling those gossiping women made Takanashi Mirai's face grow even gloomier.
...
After dinner, Takanashi Akiko went to cut fruit for dessert, leaving Kuroha Akira and Takanashi Mirai sitting face to face across the table.
As the one being targeted, Takanashi Mirai waited for him to speak. She had made up her mind: no matter what he said, she wouldn't step out of the house. That was her line in the sand.
She shoved her hands into the pouch of her onesie pajamas, slumping back against the chair like a defiant child. Her eyes signaled to Kuroha Akira: Come on! It's your turn to perform!
Kuroha Akira was indeed ready to perform, but he wasn't in a hurry to get to the main event. Instead, he smiled and extended his hand to Takanashi Mirai in invitation.
"Anyway, let's play games together first!"
"…Huh?"
Still playing?
This guy couldn't really just be here to freeload games, could he? Was that his master plan?
However, after observing his and her mother's grand battle for several days, her hands were indeed a little itchy. She had been holding back, but the urge to play was undeniable.
Her mother had been badly beaten by her, and the few rounds he lost had clearly been intentional—meaning his gaming skills were pretty good. They should have a great time playing together.
It was also a good opportunity to give him a taste of her power.
Bring it on! Who's afraid of whom!
So the daughter replaced the mother, starting the second round of fighting game competition. The controller felt familiar in her hands, like an old friend.
"Ora ora ora! Take this seven-hit combo! One-shot kill you with full health… Eh? Why aren't you dead?!" She stared at the screen in disbelief. "Still a sliver of health left! Ah! No!"
After squandering all her resources, she was ultimately turned around by Kuroha Akira with a mere sliver of health.
"Huh?! Wait, wait, don't come over! No, I'm stuck! I'm stuck in the wall!"
....
After moving to the edge of the board, a strange bug triggered. Takanashi Mirai's character got stuck in the corner, completely helpless. Kuroha Akira maliciously controlled his character to taunt her by repeatedly slapping her character's butt. Her stomach ached with pure, unadulterated rage.
"You—don't just turtle there! Attack me… Wait, I told you to attack, not to keep spamming projectiles!" She threw her controller down in frustration. "You actually play the despicable projectile-uppercut style! You won't find joy playing games like that!"
"Takanashi-san, I'm the type who cares more about the result than the process." Kuroha Akira shrugged shamelessly. "Only victory can bring me joy. So… go die!"
"Guh…! This despicable tactic with no fun at all… Damn it… Watch me react and dodge it… Ah! Crap! Eh? Jumped over it? Good chance! Take this spiral piledriver! Yes! I won~"
"…"
At this moment, Kuroha Akira was also thinking: what was wrong with this girl?
This series of emotional ups and downs—the rapid-fire expressions, the dramatic reactions, the way she went from despair to triumph in seconds...
So interesting!
That is to say, Takanashi Mirai as a person was even more entertaining than the game itself. She was a walking, talking reaction image.
They had only played a few rounds, yet there were all sorts of unexpected events: comebacks with a sliver of health, triggering bizarre bugs, reversals, brilliant plays, and total face-plants.
Regardless of whether they were having fun or not, one could tell from Aunt Akiko's expression as she watched from the side that it was very entertaining. She was practically glowing with maternal joy.
The key was that Takanashi Mirai was also very arrogant. She constantly taunted when she won—she was simply a big female brat. That competitive fire made Kuroha Akira take it completely seriously.
But it must be said that she was indeed more skilled. Her understanding and proficiency in the game far surpassed Kuroha Akira's. This was no longer an opponent that could be defeated by raw power alone.
However, he hadn't intended to defeat her in the first place. He wasn't a hot-blooded youth anymore—his desire to win wasn't that strong. The important thing was to successfully bond with her through this gaming process.
Then, as the atmosphere grew hotter and hotter, Kuroha Akira suggested switching to another game.
The Takanashi household was well-equipped, with more than one game console. Besides competitive games like fighting games that could be played on the same screen, they could also play other online titles.
This world naturally also had the famous Monster Hunter—and Kuroha Akira's weapon of choice was the long sword.
But there was no Helm Breaker!
However, the earliest long swords actually didn't have Helm Breaker. It wasn't until Monster Hunter World came out that new players flocked in and long sword users became the meta. But for some reason, the Iai Slash was somehow included in this version—probably due to the Japanese people's mysterious, inexplicable obsession with the technique.
Iai was indeed very cool, but in actual combat, the sheathing part had no use other than showing off. In reality, true Iai was just a technique that used the scabbard to speed up drawing the sword, aiming for a one-hit kill. Flashy, but situational.
However, these techniques were artistically processed in the game, becoming quite exaggerated—dramatic, stylish, and incredibly satisfying to pull off. They were just so cool!
The cost was…
"Holy crap! This Iai can miss!"
Iai itself was an operation that heavily relied on memorization and split-second reaction timing—a skill that required equal parts muscle memory and zen-like focus. Kuroha Akira was also unfamiliar with these unseen monsters, their attack patterns completely alien to him.
The result? He was being constantly run over like a bug on a highway.
If it weren't for Takanashi Mirai—a hardcore player who knew the game inside and out like the back of her hand—leading him through the chaos, Kuroha Akira alone would have certainly been knocked out long ago. She was his lifeline, his personal healer, his guide through the digital wilderness.
Then, although Takanashi Mirai verbally complained about his terrible Iai misses—"Are you even trying?! That was the easiest dodge window in the entire game!"—she still gave him potions despite her harsh words. She even took out rare, never-before-used items from her stash, items she had been hoarding like a dragon guarding its treasure, just to keep him alive.
And Kuroha Akira was also very good at flattery—it was practically a passive skill at this point. He spouted all sorts of praises effortlessly, directly elevating her to the heavens and filling her with emotional value. His words were like a healing spell for her ego.
"Takanashi-san, you're incredible! I would have carted three times already without you!"
"You're the best support player I've ever met!"
"The way you read those attack patterns is just… chef's kiss!"
Thus, Takanashi Mirai felt like she had become a savior in the game. Her hands holding the controller trembled slightly, her heart throbbing with a pleasure she hadn't felt in years.
Is this why big players are willing to carry newbies? she wondered.
It was simply the highest-level companionship! The feedback was just too amazing! It was like being praised by a kouhai who genuinely looked up to you—addictive and warm.
Unfortunately, happy times were always short-lived. It quickly became eight o'clock in the evening, the time Kuroha Akira usually went home.
...
As it turned out, they really just played games. He hadn't even mentioned anything about school, about returning to classes, about leaving the house. Not a single word.
Takanashi Mirai felt a little unsatisfied. She hadn't had this much fun in a long time—not since the old days.
This made her recall her elementary school days, when Asato Hitomi hadn't yet made her 'withdrawal declaration.' Several childhood friends often came to her house to play, filling the living room with laughter and the sounds of button-mashing.
Compared to the games now, which had evolved into stunning 3D graphics with realistic physics, the game graphics back then were very poor—just a blurry mess of pixels, blocky characters moving across simple backgrounds. But even that could bring a whole day of fun.
At that time, there were five people in their group. Many games only supported up to four players on the same screen, so Takanashi Mirai would always give up her controller willingly. She would sit on the floor, watching her friends' characters jump and fight, her own joy coming from theirs.
Just watching her friends have fun made her feel happy.
But then everyone gradually stopped coming to her house. One by one, they drifted away—busy with new hobbies, new friends, new lives.
She knew that for others, games were just 'one of many entertainment activities,' just something to pass the time. They weren't as passionate about them as she was. For them, it was just a phase.
It was just seeing everyone slowly change, their relationships not as good as before, their smiles less frequent… it made her feel a little lonely.
I'm still here, she thought. But they all moved on.
...
"Well then… it's about time," Kuroha Akira said, stretching his arms.
"Are you… leaving?"
"…"
That lonely expression—like an abandoned kitten left out in the rain, waiting for someone who never came—made Kuroha Akira feel a little sorry for her.
It formed a stark contrast with her arrogant female brat appearance from just moments ago. The tough exterior, the bravado, the competitive fire—all of it had melted away, revealing something softer underneath.
Originally, Kuroha Akira had only intended to increase her favorability through games today, so that there would be back and forth, and it wouldn't be difficult to come again. Standard relationship-building strategy.
But seeing her expression now, Kuroha Akira knew that the 'playing games together' trick had worked too well. Takanashi Mirai had indeed been cooped up for a long time and was craving a 'playmate.' She was like a pokémon that had been in its ball too long, desperate to stretch its legs.
Kuroha Akira then decided to strike while the iron was hot. He made a decision on the spot and turned to ask Takanashi Akiko.
"Aunt Akiko, can I stay overnight today?"
Both mother and daughter looked at Kuroha Akira in perfect sync, both showing surprised expressions. It was like a synchronized double-take straight out of a comedy anime.
It was Takanashi Akiko who reacted first. Her expression shifted from surprise to a warm, understanding smile.
"Of course you can." She clasped her hands together. "Do you want me to help explain to your family?"
"No need. Even if I don't come home tonight, no one will care about me."
....
Granny Kobayashi never cared about his comings and goings. At most, Shion wouldn't have her favorite pillow—him—or her comfortable massage tonight. She might be a little sulky, but a few extra hand massages later would fix it right up. She was basically a cat: easy to placate with attention.
Anyway, a few more rubs to make Shion hum with pleasure, and she would behave.
Although teasing Shion was also fun, if he was being honest about the playability… compared to women, games were indeed more fun!
So, sorry Shion, he thought. It's not that you're not beautiful or fun. It's just that sometimes men need more pure happiness. No complicated emotions, just pure dopamine.
He'd send a message to Aka-nee later and ask her to pass a message to Shion. Problem solved.
...
"Is that so…"
This was understood by Takanashi Akiko as Kuroha Akira's parents being indifferent to him—a sad, lonely boy with no one to go home to. Her overflowing maternal love practically spilled out of her like an overflowing dam. She grabbed his hand right there in front of her daughter and said excitedly,
"It's okay! Kuroha-kun! Not just one night—you can stay as long as you want! Our Takanashi household is always open to you! I'll go clean up the guest room on the second floor right now! And put on brand new bedding!"
"Uh… Aunt Akiko, there's no need for that." Kuroha Akira waved his hands frantically. "It's just because tomorrow is Saturday, so I can play to my heart's content today. It's not because I have nowhere to go back to…"
This madam, he thought, you should care more about your own child. Look at her jealous expression right now—it's as if she thinks I've stolen her own mother.
At this moment, Kuroha Akira decisively changed the subject.
"Then let's play a racing game next, so Aunt Akiko can join too."
Takanashi Akiko wasn't good at action games—her reflexes weren't as sharp as her daughter's—and she was afraid that her mistakes would make her daughter angry. So she hadn't joined when they played Monster Hunter. Kuroha Akira chose a game that she could also participate in, helping to mend the rift between mother and daughter through shared entertainment.
This strategy was also very successful. Indeed, playing games together was the easiest way to bond, and after Takanashi Akiko joined, the gaming atmosphere became even more heated. The living room filled with laughter and friendly shouts.
"Mom! Throw a banana peel at him! Don't always throw it at me!"
"Ugh, Kuroha-kun hit me… Ah, here it comes again, I'm going to be knocked out!"
"Wait, Mom, don't say weird things!"
"Ah… sorry, it just came out naturally…"
"It's fine, Aunt Akiko, say more. I love to listen."
"You—don't flirt with other people's mothers!"
Anyway, it was very lively.
Playing games… so much fun!
...
The three of them played all night like this, the hours melting away like ice cream on a summer day. By two or three in the morning, Takanashi Mirai started yawning, her eyes growing heavy.
Seeing this, Kuroha Akira said, "Let's stop playing for today."
"Wait, is it over already?" Takanashi Mirai's eyes shot open. "Keep going!"
"Next time, Takanashi-san. You must be tired too."
"Then… will you come again later?"
"Probably, after all, I haven't finished Magic Sword Chronicles 3 yet."
"Ah…"
It was then that Takanashi Mirai remembered: she had originally only wanted to watch him clear that game. That was the whole point of this arrangement.
But they ended up playing other games until now…
Yet, she had to admit, playing games with him was indeed a lot of fun. So much fun that even though she was very sleepy, she still didn't want to sleep.
She was just like a child… refusing to end the sleepover, clinging to the last moments of joy.
Takanashi Mirai felt that she was quite childish too.
But being able to rediscover her lost childlike joy—that feeling of being completely engrossed in playing games secretly under the covers as a child, the thrill of staying up past midnight, the simple pleasure of shared laughter—truly made Takanashi Mirai feel physically and mentally refreshed.
Kuroha Akira had given her a spiritual massage through the games. An emotional reset.
Since that was the case, she should indeed give him some kind of reward…
....
Although Takanashi Mirai still didn't plan to leave the house, she could at least tell him the reason for being a shut-in. That much she could offer.
"I understand… then that's it for today."
Then she pointed at Kuroha Akira and said, "You. Come back to my room with me."
"Eh?!"
Kuroha Akira hadn't reacted yet, but Takanashi Akiko was startled.
Takanashi Akiko's mind raced through a montage of increasingly scandalous scenarios. Although she was quite fond of Kuroha Akira and could understand her daughter's reasons for liking him—he was handsome, kind, and good with his hands (at gaming)—she felt things were progressing at light speed, like a shounen protagonist powering up mid-battle.
At the very least, she thought frantically, shouldn't they start by dating? Go on a proper date, hold hands, maybe share an umbrella in the rain?
To start with the physical first?!
Are young people today really that open-minded?
"Wait, Mirai-chan, you're still too young!" Akiko's voice pitched higher. "I think it's best not to rush into that step. Look, we don't even have condoms at the Takanashi household!"
Takanashi Mirai's face instantly turned bright red—the kind of crimson you'd see on a tsundere character who's just been caught with a love letter. She clenched her fists and shouted loudly at her mother, her voice cracking with sheer mortification.
"No! Mom, what are you thinking?!" She stomped her foot. "I just want to talk to him! After all, he was brought here by Hitomi-chan…"
Saying this, Takanashi Mirai looked at Kuroha Akira with a complex, searching gaze. Her voice dropped to something more serious.
"You're not just here to play games with me, are you?"
Kuroha Akira scratched his head, deciding to be honest. "Well, it's half and half. Convincing you was a task given to me by the Class Monitor. But from my personal perspective… I genuinely enjoyed playing with you."
"Hmph…"
Takanashi Akiko also raised her hand from the side, a sheepish apology on her face.
"Sorry, I misunderstood… If you're just going to talk, why do you need to go into the room? Can't you talk here?"
"Mom, don't you understand?" Mirai shot her mother a flat look. "It's me who needs to talk to him. You can't come in. End of discussion."
Takanashi Mirai wanted to create an environment for a private conversation—because what she was about to say could not, under any circumstances, be heard by her mother. Some things were just too personal.
"Ah… Alright then…" Akiko deflated slightly. "Should I go make you some tea?"
"No need, Mom. Just stay on the second floor." Mirai pointed a warning finger. "Don't even think about trying to eavesdrop on our conversation."
"Mom understands…"
Akiko, caught red-handed before she'd even made a move, lowered her head in grievance like a scolded child.
Mirai-chan, she thought ruefully, you've always been eavesdropping too…
As the saying goes: like mother, like daughter. Akiko had originally intended to press her ear against the door like a secret agent, but she was immediately exposed by Takanashi Mirai, who knew her mother's habits better than anyone.
If she insisted on eavesdropping later, Mirai-chan would surely fly into a rage—and Kuroha-kun's hard-won efforts would be in vain. Thinking this, Takanashi Akiko decided not to take the risk. It had been hard enough getting Mirai-chan to leave her room, and even harder getting her willing to actually listen to someone. She couldn't let her own curiosity ruin everything.
So, Takanashi Akiko gave Kuroha Akira a meaningful look that said, 'Mirai-chan is in your hands now,' then turned and went upstairs to her workspace to await the outcome.
And Kuroha Akira—for the second time—entered a room belonging to a girl his age.
From getting Takanashi Mirai to leave her room… to entering her room himself.
Kuroha Akira had now entered the second stage of his strategy. The conquest was progressing nicely.