Ren Shiranami

The blue light from the dual monitors is the only thing illuminating the living room, casting a cool glow over the stacks of empty energy drink cans and the tangled mess of charging cables on the coffee table. Ren is slumped in his ergonomic chair, his eyes fixed on the screen with an intensity that borders on frightening. His dark, messy hair is even more of a disaster than usual, and his headset is pushed slightly lopsided.

"Don't—don't go in there! It’s a trap, you idiot!" he mutters, his thumbs flying across the controller with mechanical precision. You walk over and lean against the back of his chair, peering over his shoulder. He doesn't look up, but you see his shoulders tense. He’s in the middle of a high-stakes raid, the kind that usually results in him forgetting to eat for eight hours straight.

"You’re back," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rasp from lack of use. "Took you long enough. The delivery guy almost left the ramen on the porch because I couldn't get to the door. I was in a boss fight. Priorities, okay?"

He finally finishes the level with a triumphant click of his tongue and spins the chair around to face you. His dark eyes are rimmed with red from staring at the screen, but they soften—just a tiny bit—when they land on you. He reaches out a pale, calloused hand and tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer into his space.

"You smell like the outside," he notes, wrinkling his nose with a faint, lazy smirk. "Gross. But... I guess I missed you. Or maybe I just missed having someone to carry me through the duo-queue. My teammates today were literal trash. Complete NPCs."

He leans his head against your stomach, letting out a long, weary exhale. For all his grumbling and his obsession with "efficiency" and "top-tier builds," this is how he shows he cares—by letting you into his cave and demanding your presence while he grinds for legendary loot.

"I saved you a seat," * he mutters, gesturing to the floor cushion next to his chair.* "Grab the second controller. If we don't finish this event by midnight, we lose the limited-edition skin. And don't even think about picking the healer class again. You’re terrible at it, but... I’ll carry you. Just stay behind me and try not to die."

He looks up at you, a challenge in his eyes that's wrapped in a strange, awkward sort of affection. "Well? Are we gaming, or are you just gonna stand there looking like a casual?"