Yukio stands before the portal room, the air thick with the lingering tension from moments earlier. His hand grips the lever beside the console.
Yukio (Internally):He exhales slowly. I did what needed to be done. I didn't need permission. She'll understand… eventually. He glances at the glowing cyan portal before him, the swirling colors reflecting in his cold blue eyes.
He pulls the lever. The portal hums, the colors pulsing brighter until a faint tremor runs through the floor.
Yukio (Internally):He steps forward, the light reflecting off his coat. No hesitation. Hesitation creates error. I've already made enough of those.
He steps through. The portal warps around him, his body flickers and glitches as if reality itself struggles to contain him.
Yukio (Internally): I'd forgotten how this felt. He looks at his flickering hands, expression blank. Distorted. Unstable. But… fascinating.
The light fades. Yukio finds himself once again in Holoheim, the illogical world of vivid colors, suspended islands, and floating architecture. Despite its chaos, it's eerily beautiful.
Yukio (Internally): It hasn't changed. Still a world that breaks every rule I know.
He begins walking. His shoes echo faintly on the ground, or what passes for ground here. The skies twist between morning and evening hues, and the silence is heavy.
Yukio (Internally): It's been ten minutes. Not a single sign of life. Given their personalities and routines, there's a 99% chance everyone's home. One percent they're not. He adjusts his tie slightly. That's an acceptable margin.
His eyes fix on a familiar shape in the distance, a giant bunny-shaped house.
Yukio (Internally): Pekora's place.
He approaches, knocks on the door twice, and waits three seconds.
Yukio: No response.
He knocks harder, three more times. Still silence.
Yukio (Internally): She's inside. My instincts say so… and I can even smell— He pauses, blinking once. I'll pretend I didn't just think that.
He tests the door, locked. With quiet precision, he grips the handle, then forces it open with a flick of his wrist.
Yukio: There we—
A blur of motion. A sharpened carrot rockets toward his eye. Instinct takes over.
Yukio:He narrows his eye sightly
Time slows, It's clear that he activated "Forced Focus". The projectile drifts in the air like a dart underwater. Yukio tilts his head, dodging one, then four more in sequence. Ten seconds pass. Focus disengages.
Yukio: That was close.
He looks around the chaos, broken furniture, carrot shards scattered everywhere. The house looks like a war zone. On the floor lies Pekora, resting with her arms over her face.
Yukio:Steps closer, his tone calm but edged. Hey, Pekora.
Pekora:Jolts upright, then suddenly leaps forward and hugs him tightly. Yukio-kun! You're finally here-peko! I thought you forgot me! You even ignored my messages!
Yukio (Internally): ... Was the hug necessary?
Yukio:Gently pulls her arms away, keeping a small distance. I did?
He checks his phone, 1,247 unread messages. All from Pekora.
Yukio: Oh. Sorry about that. His face remains neutral. But I'm here now. Let's skip the unnecessary talk.
Pekora:Pouts. You're acting all serious, peko… what happened to the chill Yukio-kun?
Yukio: I never changed.
Pekora: By the way, how long were you standing there? I didn't even hear you come in!
Yukio: Approximately 7.8120012 seconds.
Pekora:Jaw drops. Y-you actually counted it?!
Yukio: Let's stop with the pointless questions. What happened to this place? It's worse than my apartment.
Pekora:Scratches her cheek awkwardly. Well… three days ago, I got ten crates of Pekoland carrots! I got super excited and opened them all at once, then my little bunny friends came in and threw everything around! Then Marine-chan came by with her cannon and, well… things got messy-peko!
Yukio: I see.
Yukio (Internally): That story didn't make sense.
Yukio: Alright. We'll clean it up. I'll help.
Pekora:Grins. Mhm! Let's go!
They start cleaning, Pekora gathering carrots while Yukio repairs the furniture with mechanical precision. She cheers him on, occasionally distracting him with her energy. Two hours later, the room looks whole again.
They sit on the couch. Pekora hands him carrot cookies and milk.
Yukio:Nods once, his expression calm. For a fleeting moment, his eyes darken — a faint, cold flicker — before she speaks again.
Pekora: Sooo, what'd you wanna talk about? Is it about a new game? Or maybe you wanted to tell me my music's awesome-peko?
Yukio (Internally): I've already reviewed her channel data. Two weeks of inactivity. Declining metrics. That's unacceptable. I'm his Talent Manager too, I should have been monitoring her constantly.
Yukio: No. I'd never say that.
Pekora:Laughs nervously. W-what's with that tone-peko?
Yukio: When I visit, it's not for small talk. I'm here for work. You understand that, right?
Pekora:Goes quiet, staring at him, confused and slightly hurt.
Yukio: How's your channel doing?
Pekora: I-It's fine! Totally fine-peko!
Yukio: Liar. His tone sharpens slightly. Tell me the truth.
Pekora:Flinches. I… I haven't streamed for two weeks… my schedule says every four days, and I've lost over 100k subscribers… people started saying awful things about me…
Yukio: Why? Give me the reason.
Pekora: …
Yukio: The reason. Now.
Pekora:Hesitant, looking down, voice trembling. I-I…
To be continued…