The trip back felt like it took forever.
Maybe because my head was too full.
School.
The account.
The followers.
The rent.
The very real possibility of becoming an involuntary streamer.
And on top of all that…
I still had breasts.
That wasn't helping psychologically either.
I sighed as I climbed the stairs of the old building.
The place was just as depressing as before.
Yellowed walls.
Flickering lights.
The smell of mildew.
What a miserable place.
I reached the apartment door and slid in the key.
"Oi, brat."
I froze.
A short old woman was standing right behind me with her arms crossed.
Hair dyed way too red.
Bulldog jaw.
The aura of a final boss landlady.
"C-can I help you?"
The old woman clicked her tongue.
"You can help me by paying the rent you owe."
…
Right.
The rent.
PIIING.
[Additional Information.]
[Building Owner: Yamamoto Chie.]
[Outstanding Debt: 2 months.]
[Amount Owed: ¥86,000.]
My soul left my body.
EIGHTY-SIX THOUSAND.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
"What are you screaming about, brat?"
"N-nothing!"
Oh god.
Had the original Aika been surviving like this?
The old woman jabbed a finger at me.
"You've got until end of week. No more 'just a little longer' this time."
End of week.
I had thirteen thousand yen.
Fantastic.
Financially I was fighting a raid boss with no equipment.
"I-I'm sorry… I'll pay you soon…"
The landlady let out a short grunt.
"Kids these days are useless. Glued to your phones all day with nothing to show for it."
She turned around muttering to herself as she headed down the stairs.
I waited until she disappeared.
Then pressed my forehead against the door.
"…I'm so screwed."
[Affirmative.]
"Thanks for the emotional support."
I finally went inside.
Silence.
Darkness.
And the same depressing atmosphere as always.
I left my shoes by the door.
Then my bag.
Then the convenience store bags.
I sighed, exhausted.
I still had to do the mission of responding to comments…
But then I looked at the apartment again.
Stacked garbage bags.
Clothes on the floor.
Unwashed dishes.
Dust.
Chaos.
…I can't live like this.
Not even during my worst corporate era had I let things get this bad.
Well.
Maybe I had.
But I tried not to think about that.
I slowly rolled up my sleeves.
"Cleaning first."
Thirty minutes later…
"Why are there SO MANY empty bottles?"
I felt like I was cleaning the scene of a social tragedy.
Opened windows.
Took out the trash.
Organized the clothes.
Washed the dishes.
Swept.
Even fixed up the futon.
Little by little the place started to look…
Livable.
Still small.
Old.
Depressing.
But now it looked like a poor person's apartment.
Not a crime scene.
I finished and dropped down to sit on the floor.
Sweating.
Exhausted.
"…I never thought cleaning would make me feel this accomplished."
PIIING.
[Secondary Mission Activated.]
I slowly raised my head.
I don't trust that sound.
[Mission: Take a bath.]
…
I blinked.
"Does that even count as a mission?"
[Your personal hygiene is in a concerning state.]
"I just cleaned half the apartment."
[Correction: you're still sweaty.]
I looked down at myself.
…Fair point.
[Time Limit: 30 minutes.]
[Penalty for Failure: ¥15,000 fine.]
"FIFTEEN THOUSAND?!"
That was literally more money than I had.
"Are you insane?! How the hell are you going to fine me for not bathing?!"
[I don't like dirty girls.]
Silence.
I stared at the screen.
"…Why do you have personal preferences?"
[No response.]
"DON'T IGNORE ME!"
The screen just kept showing the timer.
Damn capitalist AI.
Grumbling under my breath, I headed to the bathroom.
And stopped in front of the door.
Because of course.
There was a small psychological obstacle here.
I'd have to see my body again.
Without clothes.
…This is not good for my mental stability.
I opened it slowly.
The bathroom was still tiny.
But at least it was clean now.
I laid my clothes on an improvised chair and looked at the products I'd bought.
Shampoo.
Body soap.
Conditioner.
I glanced at what had been in there before — almost nothing.
…I guess I did need all this.
PIIING.
[Correct.]
"Stop appearing when I'm right."
I took a slow breath.
And started undressing.
First the blazer.
Then the shirt.
And the moment the fabric fell…
My eyes drifted down automatically.
Silence.
No.
I was not getting used to this.
Not at all.
My chest shifted slightly with the movement and my brain took critical damage.
"…This should be illegal."
My waist was ridiculously narrow.
The skin too soft.
The legs too long.
And honestly…
Seeing myself like this from a first-person perspective was still completely surreal.
I pulled off the skirt quickly, as if the problem would go away faster that way.
Spoiler: it didn't.
"Oh my god…"
I turned away from the mirror, completely red.
I wasn't even going to get into the topic of the underwear.
That was an emotional minefield.
I turned on the shower fast.
Hot water.
Thank god.
I closed my eyes and let it hit me.
And for the first time since I woke up here…
My head started to quiet down a little.
Silence.
Water falling.
Steam rising.
I breathed deeply.
…I'm alive.
It was strange to think that.
Because technically…
Ren Takahashi was dead.
And now I was: Aika Shimizu.
A poor girl.
With overdue rent.
Probably serious emotional problems.
And an account going viral on Lonely Fans.
What a strange life.
PIIING.
[Hygiene restored.]
[Negative status: 'Unkempt' removed.]
[Reward: Personal satisfaction.]
I slowly opened one eye.
"…What kind of garbage reward is that?"
[You're clean.]
"That doesn't count as a reward."
[I disagree.]
I hate this system.
A few minutes later I stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me.
Damp silver hair clinging to my neck.
It felt…
Strangely good.
Like the exhaustion had dropped down a notch.
I looked through the few things in the wardrobe for something comfortable to wear.
And once again ran into another psychological problem.
Women's underwear.
"…"
I picked up the bra with two fingers.
"Humanity went too far."
After several minutes of intense internal debate, I finally managed to get dressed without suffering permanent brain damage.
More or less.
I dropped onto the clean futon.
And finally opened Lonely Fans.
The counter nearly killed me.
7,327 followers.
"WHAT?!"
One photo.
One.
The internet was genuinely sick.
I opened the profile slowly.
And then I saw Aika's old posts.
Silence.
A few photos.
Bad lighting.
Uncertain angles.
Short captions.
Sad ones.
Barely any likes.
10 hearts.
My chest felt strange.
The account had been created just a few weeks earlier.
[Aika Shimizu created this account 18 days before her death.]
My eyes kept scrolling.
A partially deleted photo.
An archived caption.
'Maybe if I change a little…'
'Maybe someone will see me.'
…
I slowly closed the app.
'…You didn't have it easy at all, Aika Shimizu.'
The silence of the apartment felt heavy for a few seconds.
Then another window appeared.
[Active Mission Pending.]
Right.
The comments.
I sighed and opened the app again.
Thousands.
Literally thousands.
[@MilkTeaLover]: "I LOVE YOU."
[@Salaryman_Destroyed]: "Your eyes gave me the strength to go to work today."
[@VIP_Kuro]: "I'll do whatever you want."
"The internet desperately needs therapy…"
I started replying carefully.
Thank you.
Thanks for the support.
Glad you liked it.
PIIING.
[The responses are too cold.]
"What am I supposed to do, financially seduce them?"
[Suggestion: use emojis.]
"I hate emojis."
[Suggestion: ♡]
"NO."
I ended up slowly typing:
Thank you for all the support today… I'm still a little nervous, but reading your messages makes me happy ♡
Silence.
I read it back.
My dignity died a little.
"…This feels illegal."
[Excellent parasocial closeness rating.]
"Stop saying things like that."
I hit post.
And the responses started flooding in instantly.
More likes.
More hearts.
More comments.
More people reacting as if I'd personally saved the global economy.
PIIING.
[Mission Complete.]
[Reward Delivered: ¥5,000.]
[Passive Skill Obtained: Camera Instinct Lv1.]
I blinked.
"…What does that even do?"
[Intuitive improvement of visual composition and aesthetic perception.]
"That sounds dangerously useful."
I fell back onto the futon and stared at the ceiling.
The apartment, clean.
My body warm from the shower.
The phone exploding with notifications.
The overdue rent.
The food situation.
School.
The account.
Everything was a mess.
And yet…
For the first time since I got here…
The apartment didn't feel completely empty.
Then another window appeared.
And I felt dread immediately.
[New Mission Unlocked.]
No.
I don't like that tone.
[Complete your first livestream.]
…
Silence.
[Time Limit: 24 hours.]
[Reward: ¥100,000.]
My eyes opened slowly.
One hundred thousand yen.
That was…
An enormous amount of money.
My entire rent.
Food.
Survival.
The screen lit up again.
[Suggested Format: 'Late Night Chatting Stream.']
I stared at the window for a few seconds.
Then looked at the miserable apartment.
Then at the phone.
Then at my reflection in the dark screen.
And finally said the only honest thing I could.
"…What the hell is a streamer even supposed to do on a livestream?"