Chapter 8: Free Time

It was the weekend when Daiki found himself recalling the first lunch he had shared with others at school. The memory played in his mind like a distant yet warm scene from a movie—voices overlapping, laughter filling the air, the simple but unfamiliar comfort of companionship.

He had enjoyed it, hadn't he? The feeling of being included, of sitting in a space where he wasn't just a spectator but a participant. It was… nice.

But it was best not to get carried away.

With that firm thought, Daiki let out a small sigh and peeled the manga off his face, tossing it onto the coffee table beside him. His limbs felt stiff from lying around for too long, so he stretched lazily before making his way to the bathroom. The cool water splashed against his face, washing away any lingering grogginess, and as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he ran a hand through his slightly messy hair.

What should I do this weekend?

That question hovered in his mind as he dried his face and stepped out of the bathroom. He was visibly staring at his reflection for a while—but in reality, he was already thinking of things to do, and the possibilities that stretched before him. He could stay in, catch up on games, stream a little—or maybe he should be more productive.

Daiki walked to his desk, where his neatly arranged setup sat—keyboard and mouse perfectly aligned, dual monitors glowing softly in standby mode, microphone positioned exactly where he liked it. Instead of immediately turning everything on, he reached for a notebook from his cabinet and flipped to a blank page.

Sliding his keyboard and mouse aside to make space, he tapped his pen against the paper, thinking.

A part-time job?

That was something he had been considering for a while. Having some extra income wouldn't be a bad idea, but there was a major problem—what if someone from school recognized him? He couldn't afford that risk, mainly because he didnt want them to strike up a conversation if he ever got found out. Although, even if he disguised himself a little, his voice or posture might still give him away. If that happened, it would be a nightmare to deal with.

He frowned, clicking his pen absentmindedly.

Yeah… might not be the right time anyways.

Scratching that idea out of his mind, he moved on to something more practical—his streams. The thought alone brought a spark of energy back into him, replacing the stagnant mood from moments ago.

Streaming was something he could fully immerse himself in. It was a world where he wasn't Daiki Akezawa, the socially invisible student, but KZ, the world famous streamer.

A soft grin crept onto his face as he grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling down a weekend schedule. He jotted down the time slots, planned the games he wanted to play, and thought about potential topics to chat about. Once satisfied, he ripped the page out of the notebook, grabbed some tape, and pinned it to the bulletin board above his setup.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, feeling a sense of relief. Having a plan made everything feel more structured, it made him feel more in control.

His gaze drifted up to the ceiling as he muttered to himself, listing off game ideas, thinking about what would be fun, what would keep his viewers engaged. There were a few new releases he'd been meaning to check out, and a couple of old favorites that always made for good content.

Eventually, Daiki realized he had more than enough ideas for now, and he finalized what he wanted to do.

With his streaming schedule set, he was technically free to do whatever he wanted for the rest of the day.

Daiki pressed his computer's power button, and the sound of the components inside of it filled the room with the sound of mechanical whirring and of fans blowing. One by one, the lights on his computer set-up lit up and gave the air around Daiki a more vibrant feel.

He was now sitting straight, with his hands on his keyboard and mouse, thinking of what to do to burn some time.

He once again brainstormed.

Ah, how about checking what my fanbase is doing?

He opened up his browser, typed in a web address, and scrolled through the latest posts. Most were the usual—fanart, discussions, memes, and some clips from his past streams that viewers had edited. It was always amusing to see which moments fans found the funniest or most iconic.

Still, nothing particularly stood out to him.

Feeling spontaneous, he decided to host a giveaway. A certain shooter game he played had just released a premium game pass, and he figured it would be a nice way to engage with his community. He quickly typed up the details, set the duration for twenty-four hours, and posted it.

Alright, that's done.

Now, all that was left to do was wait for the entries to roll in.

Daiki glanced at his setup again. Streaming now wouldn't be a bad idea, but before he could entertain the thought any further, his stomach made the decision for him. A sharp pang of hunger reminded him that his food supply had dwindled far quicker than expected.

With a resigned sigh, he stood up and checked his kitchen.

Cup ramen, gone. Eggs, gone. Rice, just a handful left. Yogurt? Expired. Juice? A few sad drops at the bottom of the carton. Canned food? Only one lonely can remained.

…Agh, should've went yesterday.

He grabbed his phone and a canvas tote bag before heading out. The moment he stepped outside, the warmth of the sun hit his skin, contrasting against the cool breeze that carried the distant chatter of people going about their day.

The streets weren't too crowded, which made the walk to the grocery store a peaceful one. He kept his hoodie on, hands in his pockets, blending into the background as he always did.

Upon arriving, he grabbed a cart and navigated through the aisles with practiced efficiency, picking up essentials and a few extras that caught his eye. He made sure to restock his ramen supply, grabbed fresh ingredients for simple meals, and indulged himself with some snacks he usually wouldn't get.

The quality and price of the premium products he took didn't bother him, since the monthly income he was making from streaming was more than enough to probably buy an entire truck's worth of potato chips.

By the time he finished shopping and made his way back home, the weight of the bags in his hands felt oddly satisfying. It was a small accomplishment, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

I'm very glad I could finally live alone.

As he unpacked and neatly arranged everything in his kitchen, he turned on the stove and started to cook his dinner.

After he had cooked and eaten his dinner, he once again found himself in the same spot as he did at the start of the day.

He still had plenty of time before his first scheduled stream of the weekend. Maybe he could relax for a bit—watch something, nap, or once again catch up on a manga series he had put on hold.

Or maybe he could just sit down and exist in the moment, enjoying the silence.

For now, that didn't seem like such a bad idea.