#usb cooler

[levynite]

I see that the Northern Hemisphere is finally getting the extreme heatwave the Equator countries have been suffering from for the past 5 months.

Get an AC of some sort, seriously. And powerbanks and USB fans. Your power grid ain't gonna hold up, I assure you from experience from the first half of 2024.

[larevuegeek]

Cooler Master NR200P Max V2 Boîtier Mini-ITX SFF - Watercooler AIO 280mm

Profitez d'une remise exceptionnelle de 10% sur le boîtier Mini-ITX Cooler Master NR200P Max V2, un modèle compact et performant idéal pour les configurations PC gaming haut de gamme. Conçu pour allier design, puissance et refroidissement optimal, ce boîtier est un incontournable pour les passionnés de montage PC.

Cooler Master NR200P Max V2 Boîtier Mini-ITX SFF - Watercooler AIO 280mm - LaRevueGeek.com

[omarnissarvektrapc12]

Corsair iCUE 5000X RGB QL Edition Mid Tower Case, Tempered Glass, 4 QL120 RGB Fans, Lighting Node Core, 136 Total RGB LEDs, White | CC-9011233-WW. We offer the best price for Corsair 5000D Core Airflow Mid-Tower ATX PC Case, High-Airflow Front Panel, Tempered Glass Case Windows, 25mm Cable Routing.

[isaacathom]

2024 has weird vibes on account of how mine and 2 other friends' computers have all broken, in distinct ways, within the first weeks of the new year

[acerby]

Cockpit Gimmicks

I love a good control system for mecha and wanted to share some of my favorite control gimmicks I have seen so far in gundam. NTD: FUCK Conventional control systems, harness the power of space autism.

I love the gimmick of psycho frames. Like who cares if your mecha swallows your mindsoul look at the RBG colors.

Alaya-vijnana: Spine friends. Also, don't worry the thing you're now attached to is totally not a demon. Trust us.

Plug that shit into my veins, real cool how you can just have an open-back USB port to your mecha. What is cooler than being spinel friends with a massive metal war Machine? Why is my nose bleeding?

Mobile Trace System: The patient zero for a lot of anime fans growing up to develop a latex fetish.

I love the over-the-top nature of G-gundam and having a gimp-suit-Kinect-controller for your Wrestle robot adds so much charm to the show. Also Domom and Rain are the only ones who seem to struggle with putting in on (minus the horse). I think they're into it…

Also, shout out to the Zero System from wing. Got to midmax the ptsd of your child soldiers as much as possible. Tell me some of your favorites. From Gundam or otherwise would love to hear it.

[weoxcoolfan]

Weox CoolFan Aroma Diffuser with water reservoir for refreshing mist to cool down even further 😁

[heliosunny]

Hihi....I'm really in love with your Yandere Phainon fanfics, so I wanted more....I don't really care whatever it is as long as it's in high school au🙏🙏

CTRL U

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

The school tech lab was always quiet during lunch break. While others filled the courtyard and cafeteria with chatter and energy, you found solace in the rhythmic clack of your keyboard and the soft humming of a monitor. You had taken over the corner desk near the window, your own little bubble away from the chaotic social jungle of high school.

Your fingers flew over the keys, eyes darting across lines of code. The pixelated spaceship on your screen moved up, paused, then exploded with a dramatic “BOOM!” animation. You smiled a little, it was just a simple 2D space shooter, but you were proud of it. Debugging the collision algorithm had taken two days.

Outside the lab, you heard distant voices echoing down the hall.

“Dude, Phainon! You coming to the court or what?” “Later, maybe! I need to drop by the lab first.”

Phainon. Popular, charming, and surrounded by friends like gravity pulling planets. You’d only ever interacted with him during that one disastrous group project in sophomore year. You didn’t speak much. He did all the talking.

The door creaked open. Your screen still glowed with the tiny spaceship hovering in space.

“Yo, is someone in?”

You whipped your head up and saw him. He had one headphone in, his school tie loosened, hair a little messy.

He looked around, then spotted you.

“Hey, didn’t think anyone would be in here.”

“...Hi.”

He tilted his head toward your screen. “Wait, is that a game?”

You quickly moved the mouse to close the window, but not fast enough.

“Whoa, don’t shut it down!”

“It’s still buggy.” you mumbled, minimizing the program and locking your screen.

He leaned in, eyes lighting up.

“Wait, you made that? That’s sick.” He turned to look at you. “You’re seriously talented.”

You avoided his gaze, focusing instead on unplugging your USB drive.

“It’s just a hobby…”

Phainon chuckled. “‘Just a hobby’? You’ve got a whole game running. That’s way cooler than anything I’ve done today.”

This wasn’t how your quiet lunch break was supposed to go.

You stood up quickly, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, trying to gather your things.

“I need to go.”

“Oh. Wait, did I say something wrong?”

“No!” you said too fast, stepping back toward the door. “I just... have other stuff.”

He watched you retreat, a confused expression softening his features. Then he smiled again, tilting his head slightly.

“Hey, what’s your game called?” he called out as you reached the door.

“…It doesn’t have a name yet.”

He grinned.

“Let me know when it does.”

You tried to return to normal after that day in the lab.

No more coding during lunch breaks.

No more late stays in the tech room.

But Phainon didn’t understand and keep showing up everywhere you go.

“Hey! Game Dev!” he called out from across the school courtyard one afternoon, jogging to catch up with you.

You pretended not to hear him and quickened your pace.

He caught up anyway, effortlessly matching your stride. “You never told me more about the game.”

“I’m busy.”

“That’s cool. I can wait.”

You stopped in front of your classroom. “Don’t you have a fan club or a game to get back to?”

Phainon just gave you that stupid, easy grin. “Maybe. But I kinda want to see what happens next in your game.”

You didn’t respond. Just walked in, ignoring the snickers from a nearby group of girls.

It wasn’t just one or two people talking. You’d heard whispers in the hallways.

“Why’s he talking to them?” “They probably faked the whole ‘coding’ thing just to get attention.” “Didn’t they get rejected by Phainon or something?” “Creepy how they’re always alone, right?”

At first, it didn’t bother you. You were used to being left out.

But that changed when you stayed late one afternoon to grab your notebook and accidentally overheard something.

“Okay, but what if we just hire some expert to.. idk, download a virus on their computer or something?” “Ooh, or leak their browsing history or whatever. Even if it’s fake, no one’ll care.” “Right? Who’s gonna believe someone like that anyway?”

You backed away slowly.

You’d had enough.

That night, you didn’t sleep. Instead, you slipped on your headphones, pulled up a few proxies, and found the backdoor in their school Wi-Fi habits.

In two hours, you’d broken into their cloud storage and group chat backups. In four, you’d carefully rearranged screenshots, spliced audio files, and created just enough drama to make it seem like they were all talking behind each other’s backs.

You didn’t even upload them yourself. Just scheduled a timed drop via a burner account.

By Monday, the group was in ruins.

And you, finally, had silence.

Until Phainon found you again. This time, at the bike racks after school.

“Hey.”

You glanced up. “What.”

He held up a hand in surrender. “Not here to bug you about the game.”

You turned away. “Then leave.”

He didn’t.

“They deserved it, huh?”

He took a step closer. “You’re good. Real good. That’s not amateur stuff.”

You looked at him sharply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t deserve what they were doing. But...” He hesitated. “Just... don’t lose yourself in it, alright?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to.

“Next time someone comes after you… maybe let me know first.”

He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, not looking back.

You never felt safe after the drop. Sure, no one came at you again, not publicly. But silence didn’t mean safety. Silence could be a trap.

And Phainon, despite everything, made you uneasy.

Why? Why was he so calm? Why did he know what you’d done?

That night, your fingers hovered over the keys. Your curiosity itched too loud to ignore.

You slipped past a few weak firewalls and into his cloud activity.

“...wait.”

The path you followed suddenly folded in on itself.

And you’d taken it.

You burned the scripts, cleaned the logs, wiped the trace tools—anything that might be tied to you. Anything he could use against you.

And when it was over, you sat in the dark for a long time. Cold sweat down your back.

The next day, he said nothing.

You watched him across the quad, laughing with his friends, sleeves rolled up, the same lopsided smile like he hadn’t laid a trap for you.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

So you did something stupid.

You pulled an old CD-R out of your drawer, labeled it in your tight, scratchy handwriting: [ TEST BUILD v2.6 — SPACEWAR ]

And the next morning, you caught him by the lockers.

“…Here,” you muttered, holding it out. “The game. Just a standalone version. I just thought you might want to test it.”

“You’re giving me the first build?”

“It’s just a test. You don’t—”

“I’m gonna play it tonight” he said. “I’m finishing it. No way I’m sleeping until I beat it.”

“It’s literally half-coded and full of bugs.”

“So am I,” he smirked. “Perfect match.”

You didn’t expect him to go that far.

Next morning, he walked into class with dark shadows under his eyes, hair messier than usual, hoodie half-zipped over his uniform.

“Hey,” he grinned. “I beat it. Twice.”

“Wait... You stayed up?”

“You said test it. I tested the hell out of it.” He nudged your arm. “Seriously, it’s awesome.”

You stared at him. Then laughed. You couldn’t help it. “You idiot. You could’ve just given me a bug report.”

“Nah. That’d be boring.”

You shook your head and turned away to hide your smile.

Later that night, at home, you sat down at your desk. Curiosity beat out caution.

You slid the same disc into your computer. It whirred softly.

[ SPACEWAR ] — Test Build v2.6

You clicked Start Game.

The opening sequence played—then flickered.

The background glitched. The pixels warped, briefly forming words in a distorted typeface:

"Hello, Player One."

Then the game resumed normally.

You yanked the disc out. Looked at the underside.

A low beep from your laptop made you jump.

You flipped the screen—the camera light was on.

For half a second. Then it shut off.

You stared at the reflection of yourself in the screen. And realized:

He gave you his disk.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The glowing reflection of “Hello, Player One” burned behind your eyelids every time you blinked. You’d covered the webcam, shut the laptop, and unplugged everything. But it wasn’t just paranoia this time—Phainon had done something, and you needed to find out why.

So the next morning, you waited outside the gym, watching him laugh with his usual crowd. He noticed you immediately, his smile slipped, and he walked over.

“You okay?”

“We need to talk. Alone.”

Phainon blinked. But he nodded.

You sat in the empty room, across from him at a table where morning light filtered through the blinds.

He leaned forward slightly. “So...?”

You looked him dead in the eye. “Why did you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

You pulled the disc from your bag and placed it on the table. “Why?”

Phainon leaned back, quiet for a moment. Then:

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You frowned. “What?”

“Two years ago. National Coding Competition. You made that AI that learned player patterns in real time. I was in the same bracket—you crushed everyone.”

“You were there?”

He nodded. “You were the best person in the room. I admired you. Then you disappeared. I always wondered why.” He paused. “When I saw you here, I thought—maybe I could get to know you.”

“So you thought breaking into my computer was your idea of caring?”

He flinched slightly, guilt flickering behind his eyes.

“You invaded my privacy. You used something I made against me.” Your voice shook. “Don’t twist this into something noble.”

He sighed. “I just wanted to understand you. You’re brilliant, but you shut everyone out. I thought maybe if I got closer—”

“—by spying on me?”

There was a long silence.

“Didn’t you do the same? To those girls?”

You were speechless.

“I’m not saying they didn’t deserve it. But you didn’t talk to anyone. You handled it alone.”

That stung.

Your hands clenched under the table. “So now you’re saying we’re the same?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m saying we both did things we regret. Doesn’t mean I’m proud of it.” He looked at you. “I’m sorry. For crossing the line.”

“Stay out of my stuff.”

And you walked out.

The rest of the day, you ignored him. He didn’t try to talk to you. Not even once.

But the silence wasn't peace. It was pressure, thick and heavy. You couldn’t focus.

By lunch, you'd pulled up three transfer applications on your phone, but none of them felt like the right move. Running didn’t solve the problem, it just meant you’d keep running.

So instead, you started thinking differently.

If Phainon wanted to get close to you? Fine.

You’d make him hate it.

You listed ridiculous stuff maybe you could use against him:

Step 1: Code like a cryptid. Talk only in binary. Step 2: Constantly mention obscure operating systems and laugh when he doesn’t get it. Step 3: Bring spreadsheets of cat behavior patterns and pretend they’re “emotional simulations.” Step 4: Add him to a fake group project and send 3am emails titled “urgent patch notes.”

Your plan was almost working.

The constant 3 a.m. “patch note” emails. The random references to deprecated programming languages.

It should’ve been enough.

But he always came back.

You were exhausted.

So you went back to Plan Move Away. You re-opened the school transfer forms, actually filled out your personal statement, and left the tab open just in case.

And then, out of nowhere, Kaito happened.

You met him during a school lab module. He wore round glasses, always had cat-hair on his hoodie, and genuinely laughed at your dry jokes. Even better? He knew how to debug. You both ended up fixing an old RPGMaker horror build for fun and spent lunch breaks balancing variables and laughing over cursed enemy sprites.

He wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t hack your life. He was just... easy.

Which was why Phainon noticed right away.

He cornered you by the vending machines after school.

“So... That new guy.”

“His name is Kaito.”

“Cool... But I thought we were working on your game.”

You crossed your arms. “We were. Then you installed spyware on my hard drive.”

“I apologized for that.”

You didn’t budge.

“So you replaced me?”

“I didn’t replace anyone. Kaito’s just someone I can work with without needing to run background checks.”

He scowled. “So you don’t trust me.”

“Can you blame me?”

Phainon looked at you, searching for something. Then he took a step closer.

“Okay. Fine. Maybe I messed up. Maybe I made it weird. But I thought we were building something—together. I didn’t realize you’d hand the controller to some new guy and bench me.”

“Everyone deserves to code.”

That struck a nerve.

“Right.” His voice dropped. “But not everyone gets you.”

This was personal.

Which made it more complicated when, the next day, you came home, turned on your PC and noticed a new folder on your desktop.

“GAME_PATCHED_FINAL_no_KAITO”

And a note:

“If you're gonna replace me, you better fix the recursion loop. Or let me help.”

You stared at the screen, heat crawling up your neck.

You didn’t know if you were furious or impressed.

You had your code. You had your own project. You had Kaito now.

You went on without him.

You stripped your old game build clean, rewrote the framework, even changed the name. Burned all the folders that had anything labeled “v2.6” or “player_one.” You started fresh.

And Phainon? He kept his distance. At least physically.

Then came the mailbox.

It was a regular Thursday when you got home. You were stepping out of your shoes when your mom called from the kitchen:

“There’s something in the mailbox for you.”

You blinked. “Mail? As in—physical?”

“Yeah. Like the old days.” She chuckled. “Looks like a CD.”

You grabbed it, peeling back the envelope carefully.

Plain. No return address. Just one thing written in black marker on the CD’s surface:

“BOOT ME :)”

You rolled your eyes. “Really?”

Of course it was from him. The handwriting was unmistakably chaotic.

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to test this thing on your personal machine. Not after last time.

So you waited.

The next day during free lab hour, you sat down at one of the school’s clunky public PCs. You slipped on the headphones just in case it played audio.

The CD slid in.

[ Loading... Welcome Back, Player One ]

A single line of code glowing on a black screen:

function whyYouLeft { return “?”; }

Then the screen glitched again—and a video window opened.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a shaky webcam video of Phainon in his messy room, sitting on the floor cross-legged.

“Okay. So, if you’re watching this… then I guess I broke like, ten privacy boundaries again. But I swear—this time, no access to your camera. Just... this.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

“I don’t know why you pulled away. But I want to understand.” He looked at the disc. “I know I messed up. And maybe that scares you. Maybe you think people only get close to you because of your talent. Maybe you hate how I made it all messy.”

He looked up at the camera, eyes sincere.

“But it wasn’t about your code. Or the game. I wanted to know you. The person behind all that.”

He paused, then added quietly: “I miss being your Player Two.”

The screen turned black again.

You stared at the screen. The headphones still buzzed faintly in your ears with the silence that followed.

You didn’t eject the CD.

You just… sat there.

----

The hallway echoed with the soft shuffle of bags and the clatter of desks being dragged back into place. Students were peeling off one by one, some still laughing, some too tired to care. The bell had rung fifteen minutes ago, school was out, but you stayed.

Until it was just two people left in the room: You and Phainon.

He was halfway through zipping up his bag when he noticed you approaching.

He blinked, clearly surprised. “…Hey.”

“I watched the CD.”

Phainon straightened, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

“It was unnecessary.” you said dryly. Then paused. “But… I get it.”

He opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself, maybe to apologize again, but you raised a hand before he could.

“I’m not starting over with you. I’m continuing, with conditions.”

“You can join the project again,” you said firmly, “if you promise to stop doing stuff behind my back. Everything stays aboveboard.”

You added “Also, if we’re working together, you have to be civil with Kaito.”

“Kaito?” he repeated.

You nodded. “He’s part of this now. Whether you like it or not. I’m not removing him just because it makes you uncomfortable.”

“You want me to team up with someone who’s clearly trying to be me?”

“He’s not trying to be you.”

Phainon didn’t say anything for a moment. His fingers curled slightly around the strap of his bag.

“So that’s the deal?” he asked quietly. “Let you keep your new friend, and I get supervised access to your game like it’s a daycare pass?”

You shrugged. “If it bothers you that much, you don’t have to join.”

There was a tense silence between you.

“Fine,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “If that’s what it takes.”

You both left the room.

But the minute he walked into the golden hour light outside the school building, Phainon’s smile twisted into something else.

He had no intention of sharing.

Kaito was an obstacle. And Phainon knew exactly how to handle obstacles.

He didn’t need to hack anyone this time. Not when he had reputation.

He was a magnet in the school ecosystem - student rep, the guy everyone knew, the guy everyone liked. Popularity was a language, and Phainon was fluent.

He spoke to people in Kaito’s other classes. Casually dropped things like:

“You know that Kaito guy? Little… intense, right?”

Or:

“Hey, just a heads-up. He’s been engaging with some guys out of school these days. Kinda weird, don’t you think?”

Rumors ran faster than servers during a DDOS attack.

You didn’t notice it right away.

But the others started acting cold toward him. Like he was radioactive.

“Hey… did I do something? People’ve been acting weird.”

You frowned. “Weird how?”

Kaito hesitated. “I dunno. Just… off. Like they know something I don’t.”

Phainon acted perfectly normal the next day.

He brought snacks. He complimented your new UI layout. He laughed at your deadpan jokes.

Phainon never played fair.

It started with a casual invite. One that looked harmless on the surface.

Phainon leaned over your desk during your group’s usual project hour. “Hey,” he said. “There’s a match this weekend—finals. I’m playing.” Then he added, “You and Kaito should come. Y’know. Team bonding. Off-screen chemistry.”

Kaito, surprisingly, looked excited. “I’ve never been to one of your matches. Might be fun.”

For once, Phainon was asking.

So you said yes.

But plans changed.

Your part-time shift at the local computer shop ran long, someone brought in a corrupted hard drive and left in tears, and by the time you were done running diagnostics and fixing their system, the sun had already dipped behind the horizon.

You texted Kai.

[Sorry. Can’t make it. Tell me how it goes later.]

No reply.

You didn’t hear from him until the next morning.

Your phone buzzed with a single message:

From unknown number: “Your friend’s at City Medical. You should come.”

You nearly dropped your phone.

Kaito lay in the bed, right arm in a sling, a thin cut on his brow, bruises trailing the side of his cheek. His glasses sat on the tray next to him, bent out of shape. He was asleep when you walked in.

Phainon was sitting beside the bed.

He glanced up when you entered.

“Hey.” He stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “Didn’t expect you so early.”

“What happened?”

“It was an accident. During the second half, he tripped—took a bad fall.”

You stared at him. “He doesn’t even run. Why was he even on the field?”

“He got a little too excited. Honestly, I tried to wave him back.” He looked at the bed again. “Poor guy. Probably got caught up in the moment.”

But… the whispers had already started at school. You heard them in the hallways, snippets like:

“I heard that nerd wasn’t watching the game rules.” “Why was he even on the field?” “Guess he wanted attention.”

It was already being spun. And no one could prove it otherwise.

You sat quietly in the chair by Kaito’s side once Phainon left. Your eyes didn’t leave the steady rise and fall of his chest.

With Kaito out of the picture, it was just you and Phainon again. He was standing behind your chair, one hand resting on the backrest while he leaned over to comment on your code.

He would speak low near your ear like the two of you shared something secret. Sometimes his hand would linger on your shoulder, a little longer than it should.

And you just kept coding.

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but ever since the hospital visit, your guard hadn’t dropped once.

Every time Phainon brought snacks, or coffee, or even just his charming laugh, there was something clawing at the back of your head.

The others in school weren’t subtle either. You noticed the sideways glances. The hushed tones in the hallway. Students whispering by the lockers, pretending not to look your way.

Some even snickered outright when you walked into the lab with Phainon beside you, your laptops under your arms like a pair of matching uniforms.

“Guess if you can’t compete, just date the star instead.”

Phainon noticed. Of course he did.

He smirked as he leaned in and whispered: “Let them talk. We’re the ones doing something real.”

You didn’t reply. You just sat down and turned on your machine.

And when you got focused, really focused, you forgot everything else. You skipped lunch. You skipped breaks.

That’s when Phainon would step in again.

You hadn’t even noticed him peel open a rice ball wrapper until he tapped your chin gently with it.

“Eat.” he said simply.

“What?”

“You haven’t touched a single thing since third period. Just chew.”

He held it closer to your lips—half a challenge, half a joke.

You frowned slightly, but opened your mouth. He fed it to you.

---

"Why are they always together now? It’s getting annoying."

"Seriously. Ever since that freak started hanging out with Phainon, he’s been acting weird. Ignoring us."

"They practically live in the lab. It’s pathetic. Clingy."

"Didn’t Kai or whatever his name is end up in the hospital too? You think it’s a coincidence?"

"Well… maybe we should remind them where their place is."

Your bag was heavy on your shoulder. You were heading to the lab as usual, maybe Phainon would be there already, or maybe not. You didn’t text him today.

You were halfway down the stairs when it happened.

A slight nudge.

There was a moment—a single heartbeat—when your brain recognized the danger.

Then everything went black.

[Hospital Room – Present]

You woke to pain pressing behind your eyes and an icy pressure on your wrist.

“Hey.. hey. You’re awake?”

You blinked through the blurriness. Phainon’s face came into view, shadowed by worry and sleeplessness.

“Don’t move too fast. You hit your head—really hard.”

Your throat felt dry. You tried to speak but failed. He immediately reached for the straw in a plastic cup and held it to your lips.

You let the water coat your throat. Your mom entered then, her voice choked with relief as she kissed your forehead and muttered prayers under her breath. Behind her, your sibling waved awkwardly with puffy eyes.

Your body still ached. But in your stillness, your mind drifted.

[Seven Years Ago]

You stood outside the regional coding challenge arena, holding your little cardboard certificate for First Prize in your hand. The others from your school were celebrating inside, but you stepped out for air.

That’s when you heard it.

Sniffling. The sound of someone trying really hard not to cry.

You followed the noise and found him, curled behind the bushes next to the school’s HVAC system, arms wrapped around his knees. He was kicking at a tangle of wires and muttering under his breath.

His screen had crashed halfway through the demo. His mom, who was in the audience, had made that face. Not angry—disappointed.

“Leave me alone” he snapped when he noticed you.

You stood there silently and pulled out a juice box from your bag. Pushed it toward him.

He glared at it, then you. “I lost.”

You shrugged. “Your code was complex, though. That’s impressive for our age.”

He finally took the juice box. Sipped it quietly.

You sat beside him, ignoring the grass stains and bugs. “I could help. If you want. You’ll get better.”

He stared at you, like trying to see through your intentions.

“…Why?”

“Because you were good. And no one helped me when I started either. So I guess I just want to promise it won’t always suck.”

You smiled. “Wanna be friends?”

He nodded.

You forgot that moment. Years passed. But Phainon never did.

Because in that moment, you were the first person who saw value in him.

And he kept that memory like a loaded save file.

Waiting to be opened again.

[Hospital Room – Present]

You stirred awake.

Night had fallen.

Phainon hadn’t left. His hand was still holding yours, as if letting go would make you disappear.

You stared at the ceiling. “Did you know?”

He looked up.

“About the stairwell?” you clarified.

His jaw tensed. “…Yes.”

You didn’t respond.

He continued: “I told them to back off. I thought that was enough.”

You turned to face him.

“I was too late. And I’m sorry.”

You didn’t want his apology.

You wanted to go back and undo all of it. All the memories with him.

[One Month Later]

It was as if you had never existed.

Even your home, he passed by once, late at night, still in his hoodie and uniform, was locked up, the windows sealed, the gate chained. A "FOR RENT" sign swayed faintly in the wind.

You had moved.

Without goodbye.

“…Didn’t they get, like, pushed or something?”

“Maybe their parents freaked out.”

“Phainon’s been acting insane ever since. You think he—”

The boy they were whispering about passed them without a glance.

He just sat in the old lab sometimes—your chair cold and silent across from him—staring at the unfinished game you both used to work on. His fingers would hover over the keyboard, only to fall away.

He didn’t talk to Kaito anymore. He didn’t talk to anyone, really.

One week later, Phainon stared at the wall of post-its he'd started building.

A map of digital footprints.

The last IP address you logged in with.

An email you once mentioned.

A string of code only you would write—he knew because he still had a CD of your logic framework.

An old blog post under a different name, dated three years ago.

He had learned from you. Studied you. Watched you work, memorized the way you built firewalls, nested loops, hid access points like digital breadcrumbs only someone obsessed would find.

And he was obsessed.

At school, Phainon finally started speaking again.

To the computer science teacher.

To the club advisor.

To anyone who might know where the school sent your records. What your “transfer” details included.

But they all said the same thing.

"We don’t know." "It was a private transfer." "We were told not to disclose further."

He sat by his screen again. The glow cast his face in cold blues.

On it was a pixelated image—the game you had coded.

Only this time, it had been modified.

There was a new character. One that looked an awful lot like you. Standing at the end of a path surrounded by glitchy trees.

He pressed enter.

And the character vanished.

Phainon leaned back in his chair.

Where did you go? He didn’t get an answer.

Not yet.

But he would.

----

The screen glowed in the pitch-black room.

Phainon hadn’t slept. Not properly.

There it was.

Phainon’s lips parted. His eyes lit up like a mad scientist finding the last missing variable.

“…Got you.”

----

You sat in the back of the new lab, a new place, everything is new to you, headphones in, hoodie up. You'd been making slow friends here.

Safe. Or so you thought.

Until you saw a notification blink on your laptop.

“System Resource Conflict – Unknown Peripheral Access Attempted.”

You immediately yanked the USB port out.

"Dammit."

----

[Night – Back in Your Apartment]

You watched the camera LED on your laptop blink once, then stop.

You covered it. Disconnected from all networks.

And still, you found phantom code—commands embedded in weird spots.

He was inside.

“What do you want, Phainon?”

The screen lit up again.

Just a simple text file opened itself.

I want what’s mine.

[Elsewhere – Phainon’s POV]

He sat in a cheap hotel near your neighborhood, his laptop surrounded by energy drink cans and open notebooks filled with your old quotes, half-written function names, sketches of you in the margins.

This wasn’t about revenge.

This was about fixing the error that happened the day you left.

[The Next Day – At Your School]

You felt someone watching.

Students still walked the hall like normal. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

And when you reached your locker, you found a CD. Labeled in black marker:

“Final Build – OUR Game.”

You dropped it immediately. You didn’t pick it up.

But someone else did. Your cousin.

“…Hey, isn’t this yours?”

“No. Leave it.”

That night, when you checked online, your cousin’s PC pinged offline.

“Ugh.. I warned him already.”

Then his phone. Then his socials.

Gone.

You wanted to end this. So you did what you must.

“Don’t worry. I’m here now.”

“We’re going to finish what we started.”

“Together.”

The lights in your room dimmed.

You agreed to meet him.

“Let’s end this.”

Rooftop. 5:00 PM.

You knew this was dangerous.

But you were exhausted.

Of hiding. Of losing friends.

You needed closure—even if it meant facing him again.

----

Phainon stood at the edge of the roof, back to you.

He hadn’t changed much.

You approached slowly.

Phainon turned.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, stepping forward. “I just… wanted to be with you. Always.”

“You hacked my laptop.”

“You left first.”

“You stalked me. Threatened people. My cousin.”

“He shouldn’t have touched our game.”

“It wasn’t ‘our’ anything!” you snapped. “It stopped being ours the moment you tried to control me.”

“...I see”

That was it. You said what you had to say. You turned toward the door.

You should’ve kept your guard up.

CRACK

Blinding white. Then black.

-----

You stirred.

Phainon sat nearby, typing.

“Hey,” he said softly, as if he hadn’t just abducted you. “You were out for a while. I was worried.”

“Let me go.”

He tilted his head. “But I just got you back.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can. And I will. We have work to finish.”

“…You're insane.”

“No,” he said with unnerving calm. “I'm in love.”

He stood, walking toward you, crouching beside your chair.

“Look, I added your old AI logic into the game. It talks like you now.”

You stared at him in horror.

“Phainon… you can't replace me with code.”

He smiled.

“Then stay.”

Then, like he was explaining code to a beginner:

“If I lose you again… I’ll transfer you.”

“What?”

“If your body dies… I can keep you. Upload your consciousness into the framework. You’re brilliant, after all. Your patterns, your memory depth... already trained into the AI from our game.” He reached up and gently touched your temple. “You won’t even notice the difference.”

You went completely still.

He was serious. Fully convinced. He would do it.

“…Phainon” you said quietly, doing everything you could to keep your voice steady. “That’s… sweet. But I’m not ready for that.”

“I just think,” you continued, “maybe I can help improve the code more if I’m still—” you laughed nervously—“you know, in this form.”

Then… he sighed. “You’re so logical,” he murmured. “So calm.... That’s why I love you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours.

“I knew you’d understand eventually.”

[peachdues]

office necessities

So, you work at an office and you want to liven it up a bit? Well, here are some suggestions to make your space your own (and all the things I swear by).

a disclaimer: most of my desk stuff was amassed from amazon over years of law school from home/working from home thanks to COVID. You certainly don’t have to buy from amazon (and understandable if you don’t!!) but, these are more ideas than anything!

In general: if you can, pick a color scheme and build around that. During bar prep, I turned my home study into my work space and I loved how it came out.

Personally, I found brown neutrals with accents of green (especially sage green) to be very calming so that’s what I went with for my actual office. But, go with whatever works for you!

Desk

Cute/practical accessories — cloud wrist rest, oriental rug mouse pad.

Pen/sticky note organizer — if you can, try and pick a color scheme for your highlighters/pens that matches whatever you chose for your desk. I have this one.

Coasters — they match my color scheme, too!

Desk pad — im very lucky in that I inherited my mother’s BEAUTIFUL mahogany desk set. Because it’s so beautiful, I purchased desk pads to protect the wood, but you can also use these to spruce up a less than pretty desk, too!

Invest in a cute keyboard — honestly this makes so much of a difference. You can find some really affordable keyboards that are pretty good in quality, and usually they’re Bluetooth compatible OR will come with a usb cable you can use to hook up to a monitor!

LAMPS LAMPS LAMPS. I’m privileged that I have my own office with a door, which means I can leave my gross overhead lights off as much as I want. I prefer softer lighting, so I have a ton of lamps. This one is my tried and true — you can change the color of the light (cooler to warmer) as well as its brightness to whatever you prefer. I also have this one.

Desk computer cleaner — I always have one of these in my desk so I can clean off my monitor. Very handy!

Add your own trinkets! Again, I’m lucky that my office is totally customizable and I can bring in whatever I want to decorate (I can even order the firm to paint my walls a new color if I want), but others may have more restrictions. Find out what you’re allowed to have out on your desk, and work within those parameters! For me, I have crystals all over my office on my shelves (and a few on my desk). I also have a Sanemi funko pop hiding on a bookshelf, as well as some personal affects (like my wedding invite because it was an otter magnet and so CUTE). Pictures, too!

Desk organizers — great for organizing pens, sticky notes, tabs, paper clips, binder clips, etc.

I also have a headphone stand and a planner stand (which is just my repurposed text book stand from my law school days) — that helps me keep space freed up on my desk, but lets me display my headphones and planner in a cute way!

Miscellaneous

Under the desk foot rest — especially if you sit a lot, this helps with posture/lessens lower back pain! I have this one

Butt pad — listen, I know it sounds silly, but trust when I say this also helps with lower back pain — especially if your desk chair isn’t great. This is my favorite thing. I think I’d die without it.

Candle warmer — makes your candles last and your space smell good. I have this one that’s a lamp so, extra light

Good thermos — one of my friends recommended this to me and I don’t leave my house without it. It keeps my iced coffee/matchas COLD. And, it fits perfectly in my work bag. Also very easy to clean.

GOOD water cup. I never come to the office without my Stanley. It keeps ice for so long.

I have a few framed posters (that I still need to bring in oops) that honor my nerdiness. One is a vintage totoro poster, the other is this minimalist demon slayer poster!

If you have extra seating in your work space, highly recommend little decorative pillows — I have these leaf-shaped ones. I also bought these chair covers to match the rest of my color scheme

Plants!! I have a couple of real plants in my office, and a few fake ones as well. The greenery livens things up!

Personal care items — just cuz you’re in an office doesn’t mean you can’t pamper yourself!

Good hand cream — I’m a huge fan of this L’Occitane hand cream. I keep it at my desk always

Blue light glasses — a life saver when you stare at a computer all day. I have two pairs!

Mini desk humidifier — I love this thing in the winter (use to help fight skin dryness!)

As a general rule, I do try and keep some seasonal decorations up throughout the year — though, I tend to bring out more in the fall/around Christmas. They’re all small, but enough to lively the place up! In the spring, i usually put out one of those Target seasonal birds and I swap my leaf pillows for small cherry blossom ones!

[hihelloimanerd]

Chip Switch

I love Lab Rats, it's my favorite show and I rewatch it constantly. It is not without its faults. Chip Switch (1 x 12) is an episode I have a major gripe with. Bear with me I'm gonna yap a lot about this.

Ignoring the medical improbability of bionics, I think that the idea of the chip being the only thing that makes them Bionic is unlikely. Not only are they genetically engineered -mentioned multiples times throughout the show- they likely have biotech throughout their bodies. For example when Chase activates his hearing, we see a sequence of wires in his car canal or the USB in his finger. I believe the chip is mainly the power source and code for the Biotech.

Taking this into account with the chip switch it should've caused way more problems then it did. They're all engineered to have muscles, speed, and agility (at least in my headcannon). However they don't share the same biotech. Adam likely has most of in his major muscles and bones, as a result to support his major ability to retain muscle, he has to eat a lot. Bree even more so, her biotech increasing her lung capacity, bone strength, and muscles in her legs. Chase has to have the most, in highly dangerous places like his orbital nerves, brain, ears, and muscles for agility. Chase is the only one of the three with tech in his car canal, so when Bree has his chip while it might slightly enhance her hearing, it would be no where near Chase's hearing. They also would not have been able to access microscopic sight or the computer in his brain.

When Chase had Adam's chip, I find it weird that suddenly his intelligence went down the drain, as if he forgot everything he might have learned with his chip and from Davenport. Unless the chip for some reason interferes with intelligence but I don't think thats possible. With Bree's it makes sense that they can all use it with varying degrees of success due to enhanced muscles, trouble breathing and pain are very likely. Adam's chip would be similar.

I think the episode would've been cooler taking into account how bionics and their genetics work together. More glitches and giving the audience a firmer grasp on how they work. All of them have different abilities so their genetics have to intrinsically intertwined with their bionics.

Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear how other people think the bionics works.

[q4os-tde-official]

My new PC!!!! :D

ASUS PRIME B450M-KII

Ryzen 5 5600

Kingston Fury Beast DDR4-3200 (2x8GB)

Patriot P220 512GB 2.5" SATA III SSD

tp-link AC600 USB WiFi adapter

Cooler Master MWE 550 BRONZE V2 PSU

XFX Radeon RX480 (we already had one, not pictured)

[generic-sonic-fan]

Fic idea that won't leave my head despite my continued insistence that I'm not going to write it (Bad dad Eggman warning)-

It's a Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games fic. Bowser and Eggman are hanging out, villain solidarity and all that.

Metal Sonic walks in. Eggman precedes to pause his conversation with Bowser to absolutely scream at Metal for coming in third place in the 100m sprint. The whole nine yards. "I built you to be SUPERIOR!" and all that. He then orders Metal back to the training area to practice clear through the night 'til the next morning.

He then turns back to Bowser and says, "you were right! Kids are difficult!"

And from that moment Bowser makes it his mission to adopt Metal Sonic at all costs.

Just one problem- nobody believes him.

The Mario gang insists that it's none of their business. There's a truce between heroes and villains during the games, after all, and Peach isn't interested in pissing off what she sees as Mobian sovereign who's been known to mess with cross-dimensional shenanigans before.

So, to the surprise of everyone, Bowser then goes to Sonic to mention the problem- only for an apathetic Sonic to emphasize that he's already given Metal enough second chances by now and that frankly it's his own fault if Eggman's mean to him. Most of the rest of the Sonic gang seem to agree with this- with the distinct exception of Amy, but even she's hesitant to stir up trouble during the games. She suggests that if Bowser nicely talked to Eggman about all this, maybe Eggman would treat Metal Sonic better!

But of course, Bowser already gave the dress-down of the century to Eggman the very moment after he sent Metal Sonic away. Did Eggman listen? Of course not.

But we all know that Bowser is nothing if but persistent. He also happens to be the resident expert on kidnapping people. . .

Step 1: Bowser got his kids together and asked them to help him befriend Metal. So now Metal's got this menagerie of Koopas suddenly taking an interest in him and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. Other kids? They think he's cool and not a failure? They invite him to hang out and do fun things? But of course, Eggman prohibits "fraternizing with the enemy", but Metal finds ways to get around this order anyway.

Step 2: have the Koopa kids teach Metal a koopa sign language- one of the kids, Lemmy, already uses this sign language because he's nonverbal, so it's not too hard for the rest of the kids plus Bowser himself to sneak in a few lessons behind Eggman's back.

Step 3: once Metal is conversational, Bowser asks Metal if he'd like a new papa who won't scream at him so much.

Step 4: realize in horror as Metal explains that he can't leave- Eggman's programming won't allow him.

Step 5: Bowser asks Amy to ask Tails how to get the subservient programming out of Metal's head. Tails then provides a small USB plug-in that'll give him remote access connection once plugged into Metal's systems so that he can undo the programming.

Step 6: kidnapping time!

Step ???: realize that Metal would actually prefer to be a girl. Bowser's daughters/GNC kids then proceed to dress her up in the blackest, spikiest clothes and accessories they have. Metal adores it.

Step 7: ruin the entire Olympic games setup as Eggman threatens violence against whoever stole his robot.

Step 8: Metal gives her original "dad" the finger as she jumps into the portal back to the Koopa kingdom with her much cooler new family.

Uhhhh skip a few steps in here as the whole Bowser family goes no contact with the rest of either gang for a bit. They don't care that they ruined the Olympic games, not when they got a cool new daughter/sister out of the deal. Eventually the Mario gang comes around and forgives Bowser for ruining the games. They then invite Metal go-karting. All is well.

Step 11: Sonic visits the mushroom kingdom one day and is absolutely appalled to find out that people say to him "ohhhh you're like the flesh version of Princess Metal from the Koopa kingdom!"

[cleolinda]

I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

[which-item-poll]

[emmkitt]

III EP 18 SPOILERS III EP 18 SPOILERS

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SCROLL AT UR OWN RISK

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i hope this is enough text where it will do the ‘read more’ thing

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i hope

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if it doesn t im sorry

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ANNYWAYS I RECENTLY BECAME A FLOORPHONE / MEFLOOR SHIPPER AND OH YM GO‼️‼️‼️‼️ thats kind of irrrelevant but thanks ep 18 for making my soul leave my body!

anyways they knew i was maiing human designs so they gave me initiative to make more alt designs for mephone and floory yay!

do not disturb mode mepjone is so cirsed in the epiaode YOU GUYS DONT KNOW WHAT YOUVE DONE.

anywaus i gave him a muzzle and handcuffs cause thats cooler design wize, and his antennae now have the crescent moon shape in em. LSO PURPLE COLOR SCHEME SOOO PRETTY!!! also his usb plug thingy mabob is on his upper back becayse im NOT following phone anatomy oh my go

as for floory! him being human, containing him in a jar qould be impractical, so instead to ‘contain’ him his vines have to be killed and then he basically becomes glued to one spot. poor floory. also the rest of his design goes to a more muted brownish color scheme, its similar to what i imagine his fall season scheme would be, except he’d obviously appear much more lively (his antennae wouldnt droop, and his leaves wouldnt be shriveled up n dead)

ok thats it!

[copperbadge]

[ID: A photograph taken in the dark of the edge of my bed and nightstand; mostly what is visible is the illumination from my little personal cooler fan, which shows Polk the tabby, in shadow, sitting in front of it at the edge of the bed. ]

I have to say, I bought the little Evapolar Chill unit because I found it on an open-box sale and I was willing to risk $60 to see if it would help me keep my bedroom cool while the AC is out. It's a great little unit -- it takes less than ten watts an hour and runs on a USB, so you can run it from a normal electrical outlet with a USB adaptor, from a laptop, or from a sufficiently powerful backup battery. It's light enough to carry around, and each tank of water gets through roughly 4-10 hours depending on how high you've got the fan going.

It does not cool down the room. I think that's a losing proposition. But it does have four intensity settings and on the highest it'll cool about a ten-foot space very well, and on the lowest setting it's still powerful enough to cool a person lying in front of it (me) on the bed, without feeling like it's blowing air in my face. The cold just kind of trickles out, and you can see even Polkadot was enjoying the cool last night. I am sleeping MUCH better since running it on my bedside table, pointed down the bed. (The blue LED is a nice nightlight but also can be turned off.)

It comes with a biodegradable cartridge that needs replacing every 3-6 months of continuous use to the tune of $30, but feels worth it, especially since once my AC comes back in two weeks I'll probably use it mainly for summer stuff -- it'd be great to have at a beach party or a cookout. Or even just for use to cool down while sleeping if I want to keep the AC bill down occasionally.

Anyway it's a great little tool for what it is so do recommend.

[monochromaticbeans]

Glowstick Garden

Hikari and Rindou form a friendship over music in the final timeline. Bonus chapter for "Sakayume."

It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant not much was happening at Groove Garden. The record store smelled of nag champa, old vinyl, and wood polish. An electric guitar leaned against its amp in the corner by the register, plastered with stickers of band logos and anime characters. Hikari perched on a stool, lazily tapping her fingers on the counter in rhythm to a Led Zeppelin track crooning through the speakers. Her eyes flicked up at the sound of the doorbell.

It was Haitani Rindou.

She didn’t dislike Rindou. Not exactly. But the Haitani brothers had a certain reputation—charismatic, dangerous, the type to push their luck and other people’s boundaries. And, well, Hikari had boundaries. Firm ones, thank you.

Rindou, for his part, looked like he belonged in an indie record store. His hoodie was half-zipped, revealing a black T-shirt with some obscure design on it. His hands were casually shoved in his pockets, and his expression had that perpetual “I’m probably cooler than you” look about it. He glanced around the shop before meeting her eyes.

“Yo,” he said.

“Yo,” she replied, noncommittal.

He sauntered toward the counter, head nodding slightly to the beat. “Nice track. Early Zeppelin, huh?”

“Yeah. ‘Good Times Bad Times.’” She tilted her head. “Didn’t peg you for a classic rock guy.”

“I’m not. But I appreciate the roots.” He leaned against the counter, looking like he was trying not to look like he was leaning against the counter. “You work here?”

“No, I just like standing behind registers for fun,” Hikari deadpanned.

“Touché,” he smirked. “I’m looking for turntables. My old set’s pretty much toast, and I heard this place gets good imports.”

“Sure does,” she said, hopping off the stool. She gestured for him to follow as she led him to the equipment section. “We’ve got Pioneer, Numark…even Technics if you’re feeling fancy.”

Rindou’s interest seemed genuine, which was surprising. Most people only wandered into Groove Garden to poke through vinyls, reminisce, or complain about how “nobody listens to real music anymore.” But as he ran his hands over the sleek turntables and asked about sound quality, Hikari found herself slightly warming to him. Slightly.

---

By the time Rindou made his fourth unannounced visit, Hikari wasn’t suspicious anymore. A bit exasperated, maybe, but not suspicious.

“You're back again?” she asked as he plunked a USB stick on the counter.

“I made a playlist,” he said. “Wanna hear it?”

Hikari arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I trust your opinion,” he said, his tone a little too casual. “And I figured you’d be honest.”

It was hard to argue with that. She grabbed the stick and plugged it into the shop's sound system, scrolling through the tracks. The first one kicked in—an electronic beat that was surprisingly good. She glanced up.

“Did you mix this?”

“Yeah. It’s still rough, but…”

“Shut up. It’s good.”

He grinned, adjusting his glasses with one finger, leaning on the counter again as she fiddled with the volume. One track followed another, and before she knew it, they were cranking the speakers and Rindou had grabbed a handful of Sharpie markers from a cup beside the register.

“This,” Hikari said, twirling a green marker like it was a glow stick, “is possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Liar,” Rindou said, waving a pair of red Sharpies around like he was summoning the spirit of rave culture.

She laughed, unable to deny it. The store became an impromptu dance floor as they swayed and spun, completely immersed in the music.

The doorbell jingled.

Hikari froze mid-twirl, Sharpies in her hands, as Baji Keisuke stood in the doorway holding a takeout bag. His expression vacillated between confusion and mild horror.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Hikari grinned sheepishly, giving a light shrug. “Uh…team-building?”

Rindou, to his credit, didn’t stop waving his Sharpies. “You should join us, man. It’s fun.”

Keisuke didn’t move. His bronze eyes zeroed in on Rindou like a laser-guided missile. “Put the markers down, Haitani.”

Rindou smirked but complied, tossing the Sharpies onto the counter. Hikari tried to defuse the tension by sidling up to Keisuke and plucking the takeout bag from his hands.

“You brought lunch,” she said brightly, kissing his cheek. “You’re the best.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze still locked on Rindou like he was mentally compiling a list of ways to remove him from the premises.

—

Back at home that night, Rindou sprawled on his couch, headphones on, replaying the events of the day in his mind.

Hikari had surprised him from the start.

When he and Ran joined Toman after Tenjiku was defeated, they’d done what they always did—tested the waters and pushed buttons. With most people, it was easy to find weaknesses, to prod and poke until they snapped or showed their true colors. But Hikari was a wall. Tiny, yes, but utterly immovable when she decided to be.

She’d stared them both down without flinching, brushing off their provocations with a casual wit that had left Ran grinning and Rindou mildly annoyed. Even more impressive was how she carried herself in a fight. He remembered watching her with the First Division during the battle with Tenjiku, her small frame darting like a blur, delivering precise, devastating kicks and blows that left opponents twice her size crumpled on the ground.

And then there was her music.

The first time he’d heard her sing at a Toman meeting, he hadn’t expected much. He’d assumed it was just some girl noodling around with a guitar. But the moment she started playing, her voice, raw and rich, carried a kind of honesty that made him uncomfortable in the best way. It was clear that music wasn’t just a hobby for her—it was an extension of herself.

Now, lounging on his couch with his playlist thrumming in the background, he smirked.

Hikari was weird. Honest. Annoyingly stubborn.

And pretty damn cool.

He closed his eyes, letting the beat carry him.

Maybe being part of Toman wasn’t so bad.

---

Ten Years Later:

The Haitani Brothers’ nightclub was exactly what you’d expect from two guys who made chaos look like a fashion statement. It was sleek, trendy, and unapologetically loud, the kind of place that charged a small fortune for drinks but guaranteed you’d leave with stories to tell.

Hikari liked it…most of the time.

On this particular Friday night, the bass was cranked so high it felt like a second heartbeat. Strobe lights pulsed across the dance floor, and the crowd moved together in a hazy, rhythmic blur. Hikari stood by the bar, sipping a drink and fiddling with the little cocktail umbrella, her hood up to block out some of the chaos. She didn’t hate it—it was fun in small doses—but nights like these, the fun took a toll.

Rindou watched her from the DJ booth, his expert hands mixing tracks while his sharp eyes scanned the room. He’d noticed her pattern over the years. Hikari loved music, loved dancing, but there were limits. She’d last a couple of songs, step outside for air, and return with earplugs discreetly tucked into her ears. She’d never complain, but he saw the signs—the subtle way she rubbed her hands together, the tension in her shoulders, the way her smile turned a little too tight around the edges.

He didn’t say anything about it. He never did.

But a week later, Ran leaned on the bar with his usual casual arrogance, nursing a drink as Rindou sat across from him.

“So,” Ran drawled, “what’s with the calendar update? You serious about this ‘sensory night’ thing?”

Rindou shrugged, staring into his own glass. “Why not? Not everyone wants to be blasted by sound and lights all night. It’s just one night a month. Lower volume, softer lighting, quieter VIP rooms.”

“Hmm.” Ran smirked. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain friend of ours, would it?”

Rindou didn’t respond, which was answer enough.

—

Hikari had been a little skeptical when she heard about the new event at the club.

“I mean, it sounds great,” she said to Keisuke, who’d relayed the news over lunch. “But the Haitanis? Really?”

Keisuke shrugged, grabbing a dumpling with his chopsticks. “Even chaos gremlins grow up, I guess.”

It turned out to be better than she’d expected. The lights were dimmer and not strobing, the music subdued enough to let conversations happen without shouting, and the VIP rooms were open for anyone needing a quieter space. It wasn’t just Hikari who seemed to appreciate the change. She noticed a few other patrons on the dance floor with earmuffs and earplugs, and several couples sat in the corner booths, chatting in low, comfortable tones.

Hikari leaned on the bar, sipping a soda and tapping her fingers in time with the beat. It was perfect.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She turned to find Rindou standing beside her, a grin on his face. He wasn’t in the DJ booth tonight—he’d left that to one of their other employees—but he still carried the energy of someone who owned the place. Which he did.

“It’s great,” she admitted, raising her glass. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to plan something like this.”

“Yeah, well.” He looked away, pretending to focus on the dance floor. “Some people like the loud chaos. Others don’t. Figured we could cater to both.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What brought this on?”

He shrugged, but she caught the faintest flicker of a smile. “Just seemed like a good idea.”

Rindou didn’t elaborate, but the truth was simple: he’d noticed.

He’d noticed the way Hikari loved music but shielded herself from loud noises. He’d noticed how her fingers danced on invisible guitar strings when a good song played, and how she always smiled a little brighter when the volume was just right. And he’d noticed the other patrons, too—the ones who occasionally stepped outside for air, who wore earplugs or winced at the strobing, bright lights.

It wasn’t about changing the world, or even changing the nightclub. It was just about making a space where people like Hikari could exist without compromise.

And, if he was honest, he liked seeing her enjoy herself without reservation.

Hikari didn’t push him for more answers. She just smiled, that soft, genuine smile he recognized as something special.

“Thanks for this,” she said, her voice audible over the music without shouting, for once.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, and he meant it.

The night wound down slowly, the music easing into softer tempos as patrons filtered out. Hikari found herself leaning against the bar again, lazily drumming her fingers to the beat of a slow, jazzy remix. Rindou returned from a quick lap around the floor, a bottled water in hand, and plopped down on the stool next to her.

“You sticking around until we close?” he asked, twisting the cap off his water.

“Maybe,” she replied, smirking. “Depends. Think I’ll get kicked out if I start a Sharpie rave?”

Rindou choked on his water, coughing hard enough to draw a few glances. “Are you serious right now?”

“Completely,” Hikari deadpanned. “I could probably find some in your office. Just saying.”

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“Great,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.

Hikari leaned closer, her purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “C’mon, you know it was fun. Admit it.”

“Fine,” he said with exaggerated reluctance. “It was… mildly fun.”

“Mildly?” she echoed, laughing. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Take it or leave it,” he shot back, but his grin betrayed him.

Keisuke chose that exact moment to walk in, surveying the bar with the familiar intensity of someone who didn’t trust the Haitanis as far as he could throw them. His gaze landed on Rindou and Hikari, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you bothering her?” Keisuke asked bluntly.

“No,” Hikari said, grinning. “Just reminiscing about the Sharpie rave.”

Keisuke's eyes narrowed, recalling the memory. “Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t worry, Baji,” Rindou said smoothly. “We’re fresh out of Sharpies tonight.”

Hikari burst out laughing, and even Keisuke couldn’t help the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Her laugh was infectious and it got to him every time.

“Good,” Keisuke said gruffly, though his tone lacked any real bite. “But if I hear about any more marker raves, Haitani, we’re gonna have words.”

“Noted,” Rindou replied, raising his water bottle in mock surrender.

As Keisuke turned away, muttering something about “weirdos,” Hikari leaned her chin on her hand, still chuckling. “You know, for someone who doesn’t trust you, he tolerates you surprisingly well.”

“I like to think I’m growing on him,” Rindou said, smirking.

Hikari snorted. “Yeah, like a fungus.”

Rindou rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his grin. “Keep talking like that, and I will bust out the Sharpies.”

“Oh no,” Hikari said dryly, holding up her hands. “Anything but that.”

And for the first time that night, Rindou laughed—real and unguarded, the kind of sound that made the quiet moments worth it.