Texting Evil God is Wrong, As I Expected
Giving my LINE to Evil God was Wrong.
It started with a simple question.
"Why don't you just message me if something comes up?" I suggested lazily, leaning against my desk.
Evil God, sitting with her usual face across the room, blinked at me. "I don't have LINE."
I stared at her, expecting her to elaborate. She didn't.
"...You don't have LINE," I repeated, more to myself than to her.
She tilted her head slightly as if trying to figure out if that was the right reaction. "Correct."
For a moment, I couldn't decide if I was more confused or impressed. LINE wasn't just a messaging app in Japan. It was practically required for daily survival. Even middle schoolers used it to contact each other.
But then again, this was Evil God.
Somehow, it felt on brand.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I guess I should've expected that."
She nodded, like I'd just solved some profound riddle. "You understand quickly."
"That wasn't a compliment," I muttered.
Her expression didn't change. "I assumed as much."
I let out another sigh, heavier this time. "Alright. Give me your phone. I'll set it up for you."
She didn't hesitate, pulling out a sleek black smartphone from her bag and handing it to me without a second thought.
I paused, staring at the device in my hand. "...This is the newest model."
She watched me with mild curiosity, unsure why I sounded so surprised. "Yeah. Is that strange?"
I flipped the phone over, noting how spotless it was. "You have the latest model, but no LINE? What do you even use this for?"
Her gaze drifted for a second before returning to me. "Clock. Calculator. Occasional web searches."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You bought a phone this expensive... to use it like a digital alarm clock?"
"Is that not normal? I try to use its functions when I want," she asked, genuinely puzzled.
I wanted to say no, but the words felt pointless. This was Evil God's logic, and questioning it felt like shouting into the void.
"...Never mind," I muttered, swiping through her phone.
It didn't take long to notice something else strange.
"...You don't have any contacts," I said, glancing at her.
She met my gaze without blinking.
I stared at the empty contact list, scrolling through the nothingness just to confirm I wasn't hallucinating. "So... did you just buy this phone yesterday?"
"No. I've had it for several months."
I gave her a long, hard look. "And in all that time, you never thought to add one number?"
"No one asked for it and I thought seeing my classmates in school was enough."
I resisted the urge to rub my temples. "Right, of course. Why would you need human connections?"
"You sound like I'm not a human."
"...That was sarcasm."
"I know."
I ignored the rest because I'm sure she was trolling me at this point.
I exhaled slowly and returned to setting up LINE for her, entering my number since, apparently, I was going to be her first and only contact. The entire process felt surreal, like adding myself to some mythical creature's Rolodex.
Once I was done, I handed the phone back. "There. Now you can message me. Try not to overuse it."
Evil God stared at the screen, then back at me. "Thanks,"
She sounded polite enough, but I couldn't shake the feeling I'd just made a mistake.
"...Don't mention it," I said reluctantly.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're concerned."
"Yeah. Because this feels like inviting disaster."
Evil God tilted her head again. "Don't worry, I won't misuse it."
"That's not the problem,"
Her stare lingered for a few seconds longer before she finally tucked the phone away. "Anyway, thanks again. See you later."
I blinked. "...Wait, that's it? You're just going to leave now?"
She stood up smoothly, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve. "Yeah, I got what I wanted to know. Have a good day, Hikigaya."
...That somehow felt more insulting than if she'd just ghosted me entirely.
"Glad I could help," I said, watching her leave without even a hint of hesitation.
Before stepping out, she paused and glanced back at me. "I'll call if I need anything else."
Please don't.
I raised a lazy thumbs-up. "Great. Can't wait."
Her eyes flicked to the gesture for a second, like she was debating if I meant it or not. Then, with a slight nod, she disappeared out the door.
I stared at the empty hallway, listening to the faint sound of her footsteps fading away.
Slowly, I slouched deeper into my chair, dragging a hand down my face.
"...I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
Yeah. I definitely was.
ㅤ
ᛚᛟᚾᛖᛚᚤᚲᚤᚾᛁᚲᚨᛚᛋᛟᚢᛚ
ㅤ
Evil God: I got ice cream.
8MAN: Okay?
Evil God: Thought you should know.
8MAN: Why?
Evil God: Isn't that what people do? Share random stuff?
8MAN: I mean, yeah, but usually not about ice cream.
Evil God: Hmm.
Evil God: I'm sitting on a bench now.
8MAN: ...Cool.
Evil God: Not really. It's just a regular bench.
8MAN: I didn't mean literally.
Evil God: Oh.
8MAN: Stop spamming me with useless messages.
8MAN: Are you just gonna update me on everything you do?
Evil God: Would that bother you?
8MAN: A little.
Evil God: Noted.
Evil God: I'm trolling you.
8MAN: ...
Evil God: What are you doing?
8MAN: Math homework.
Evil God: Why would you willingly engage in suffering?
8MAN: Believe me, I'm asking myself the same thing.
Evil God: Show me.
8MAN: Huh?
Evil God: Take a photo. I will assist you.
8MAN: Pretty sure you just want to see how dumb I am.
Evil God: That would also be acceptable.
8MAN: Fine. Hold on.
[8MAN sends photo of messy math problem]
Evil God: This is wrong.
8MAN: No kidding. So everything?
Evil God: Not everything. You forgot to distribute the negative sign.
8MAN: That was the problem?
Evil God: Yes.
8MAN: I hate math.
Evil God: Yeah. You made it way more complicated than it needed to be.
8MAN: Story of my life.
Evil God: Want me to explain it?
8MAN: Knock yourself out.
[13 minutes later]
8MAN: Sorry for the earlier.
8MAN: Hey, you there?
8MAN: I was joking.
[Evil God is typing...]
Evil God: :)
8MAN: What.
Evil God: Just waiting.
8MAN: Waiting for what?
Evil God: Your reaction. I was curious if you'd panic if I didn't reply.
8MAN: I didn't panic.
Evil God: :D
8MAN: I didn't.
Evil God: Sure.
8MAN: You didn't answer the question though.
Evil God: Hm. I was getting ice cream again.
8MAN: Didn't you just get ice cream like half an hour ago?
Evil God: Yeah.
8MAN: And you needed more?
Evil God: The first one melted before I could finish it.
8MAN: You do know how ice cream works, right?
Evil God: I underestimated the sun.
8MAN: Happens to the best of us.
Evil God: :)
Evil God: :)
Evil God: :)
8MAN: ...What the hell is happening right now.
Evil God: B)
8MAN: Wait.
8MAN: When did you learn how to use emoji.
Evil God: Just now.
8MAN: Just now?
Evil God: I thought it would enhance communication :D
8MAN: Enhance— No. No, stop.
Evil God: ;DDD
8MAN: Please stop spamming.
Evil God: ;DDDDDDD
8MAN: WHY.
Evil God: :P
8MAN: Oh god. What have I done.
Evil God: I believe I'm good at it now :D
8MAN: STOP.
8MAN: I'm begging you.
8MAN: I regret everything.
Evil God: UwU
8MAN: I take full responsibility for this. Send me to hell.
A muffled groan escaped me as I let my phone drop onto my desk, face down, as if that could somehow protect me from the sheer amount of secondhand embarrassment crawling up my spine.
I'd barely started to recover when Komachi entered the room unexpectedly much to my horror.
"Onii-chan, why are you groaning like an old man in there? I thought you were doing math, not wrestling with your creepy thoughts."
I straightened up immediately, clearing my throat. "It's part of the learning process."
"Eh? So math physically hurts you now?"
"Yes," I deadpanned.
Komachi cocked her in the direction where I held my phone, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "Are you sure it's math? Or is this about you texting some girl again?"
I froze.
Her eyes narrowed, seemingly mischievous but I could see her worry, "You know, last time you got rejected, you didn't leave your room for two days. Should I get the therapy ready just in case?"
I glared at her. "First of all, I wasn't rejected. Second, can you not bring that up every time I touch my phone?"
"I'm just saying! I'd rather be prepared than deal with your sulking."
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "For your information, I'm not texting any girls. I'm studying."
Evil God is not a confirmed human.
Komachi folded her arms, unconvinced. "Mhm. And the reason you look like you're in pain?"
"Advanced equations," I replied without missing a beat. "They're devastating."
She didn't look impressed. "You're a terrible liar, you know."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Komachi, can we not do this right now?"
She leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "I mean, if itisa girl, I should probably meet her. Make sure she's not some kind of weirdo."
My eyes flickered to my phone, still glowing faintly from Evil God's barrage of emojis and kaomoji. A bead of sweat rolled down my temple.
"Trust me," I muttered, turning back to my laptop in defeat. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Komachi laughed. "Don't get dumped, okay?"
"I'm not going to get dumped," I grumbled under my breath.
As she skipped away, humming happily to herself, I slumped forward, resting my head against the desk.
"...Why is my little sister this cruel?"
ㅤ
ᛚᛟᚾᛖᛚᚤᚲᚤᚾᛁᚲᚨᛚᛋᛟᚢᛚ
ㅤ
Somehow, Evil God entered my house.
It wasn't a metaphor. I mean that literally.
I came home late that day, having been coerced into doing the grocery run after school. The supermarket was packed, and let's just say my experience battling elderly shoppers for the last pack of discounted eggs was not one I'd care to relive. By the time I dragged myself home, the sky was already dimming, and all I wanted was to collapse on the couch, surrendering to the quiet misery of existence.
I stepped inside, taking off my shoes at the entrance. The faint sound of laughter drifted from the living room—Komachi's voice. She was talking to someone.
Huh. Must be one of her friends from school.
I set the groceries down quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever sisterly bonding moment was happening. After all, Komachi deserved some normal friendships. I wasn't exactly setting the best example on that front.
But as I approached the living room, something felt... off.
I peeked around the corner.
There, sitting calmly on the couch, was her.
Evil God.
Her long brown hair fell effortlessly over her shoulders as if it had never been a source of trouble. The moment I stepped in, her gaze met mine. She greeted me as if her presence was as ordinary as a piece of furniture in the room.
Komachi sat beside her, practically glowing with excitement. She tugged gently at Evil God's cheeks, trying to stretch them into something that could vaguely pass as a smile.
"Smile, onee-chan!" Komachi insisted, tugging again.
Evil God didn't resist. She allowed it to happen, though there was no indication she found any amusement in the activity. Her hands rested lightly on her lap, unmoving except for the occasional pat on Komachi's head—more out of curiosity than affection.
I stared.
Komachi tugged again. Nothing.
"You're supposed to smile when someone does this," she said, clearly not giving up.
Evil God blinked slowly. "Smiling serves no purpose in this context you know."
Komachi huffed. "It's not about purpose! It's just something people do."
"I see the point," Evil God replied, "Try your best then."
Komachi groaned loudly for effect.
I have to step in before something scary happens.
I lingered at the doorway, fingers tightening around the frame.
"Uh... Komachi?" My voice wavered, betraying me. "Who's your... friend?"
Komachi perked up. "Oh! This is—"
"I know who she is," I cut in, eyes locked on Evil God. "I'm asking why she's here."
Evil God said nothing.
"Nee-chan just showed up," Komachi chirped. "She said you're friends, and asked to wait for you! What could I do? I didn't know you had friends Onii-chan! Why doesn't Komachi know about this? Besides, I met her before on my way home that day you didn't have time to pick me up!"
I winced. Yeah, that tracked. The real question is why Komachi led her in. Evil God used this chance to get familiar with my cute little sister.
"I thought you said she went to another school," I muttered, lowering my voice as if that would somehow make this less surreal. Somehow, Evil God knew about Komachi and met her before our encounter.
"I do," Evil God responded instead without looking at me, still patting Komachi, "I thought it was normal for friends to hang out in each other homes."
Of course.
I crouched down beside Komachi, lowering my voice further. "Why didn't you text me before inviting strangers into the house?"
Komachi rolled her eyes. "Come on, Onii-chan. Onee-chan is harmless. And she's cool. Look how calm she looks! I tried doing this to you once and you threatened to move out."
"That's because I have basic instincts for self-preservation," I muttered.
"You're overreacting, minus 100 Komachi Points," Komachi teased, poking my forehead. "She's nice. Right, onee-chan?"
"Your little sister is cute."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.
This wasn't happening. No way.
I grabbed Evil God by the wrist and dragged her toward the hallway, throwing a quick look at Komachi to make sure she didn't try to eavesdrop.
"...I thought we agreed you wouldn't follow me home."
"We did."
"So...?"
"I reassessed the agreement and determined it no longer applied."
I resisted the urge to groan. I was sure she was messing with me now.
I let out a sharp breath, glancing back at her with an irritated sigh. "So what now? You just show up at my house like this and expect me to be okay with it?"
Evil God shrugged slightly, her expression still unreadable, "I didn't think you'd mind. We're friends, right?"
I stared at her for a second, my brain processing her words. "Friends? Since when?"
She blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Is that not how it works? I'm here to spend time with you, not to cause trouble."
I rubbed my temples, trying to keep my cool. "You could've at least given me a heads-up. How'd you even find out about Komachi?"
"I overheard. Nothing strange about it," she replied, her voice almost casual. "And it's not like I'm a stranger to you, right?"
"You're kind of pushing it. This isn't normal, you know."
She didn't seem to be fazed by my frustration. "I'm just curious. Nothing more."
I glared at her with as much strength as I could, "Yeah, well, curiosity doesn't mean you can just invite yourself into my house."
She raised an eyebrow, voice flat but with a hint of amusement. "You're still holding my wrist."
I had been holding her wrist without even realizing it, my hand instinctively gripping her as if she were some kind of trouble I needed to control. It wasn't until I saw her gaze flicker down at my hand that I snapped out of it.
I quickly let go, feeling a little embarrassed. "Right. Sorry."
"It's not like I'm causing any harm."
"Fine, but don't make it weird. I don't need extra problems today."
Her response was nonchalant. "I'll be quiet."
I shot her one last look, then turned toward the living room, half-expecting something even stranger to happen next.