I realized something when I was eight. I realized the world moves around me because I give meaning to everything. So, if I don't give someone meaning, they wouldn't exist to me. It doesn't really matter if he's better than me, because I'm the one who gave meaning to "better" in the first place.
That's why I'm always alone—because being with someone I gave meaning to is pointless.
I picked up my backpack and walked home, without looking back.
---
As soon as I arrived home, a strange creature—something I called little sister, Minami Airi—stood in front of the door.
"Why are you late? The food's freezing," she said.
I smirked and walked past her without a word, thinking: Like I said... does it really matter to talk to someone I gave meaning to?
I dropped my backpack to the floor with a soft thud, sat on my bed, and stared at the ceiling.
I love playing online games... because they're no different from real life. I give everything meaning anyway.
Then—out of nowhere—I let out a short laugh.
"HAHAHAHA..."
A pause.
"...Oops."
I sat down at my PC, the glow of the screen lighting up my tired face. With a click, the game booted up—familiar, controlled, and silent.
I played until midnight, not even realizing the time had passed.
No thoughts. No interruptions.
Just pixels and control.
When the clock hit twelve, I shut everything down, slipped into bed, and stared into the darkness.
---
I walked into the kitchen, eyes half open, and saw Airi already eating.
Judging by the warm plate on the table, she'd cooked breakfast—even though today was my turn.
I paused for a second. A small, quiet guilt crawled up my chest.
But then my thoughts kicked in.
No... I don't feel sorry for her. Why would I? Why feel sorry for someone who only exists because I gave her meaning?
I sat down, quietly ignoring the warmth on the plate—and in my chest.
---