Daniel's POV.
They say no one lives alone, and no one lives just for themselves. People need others, no matter how high your pride is or how much you claim you can survive without help. When you're in a pinch or facing something you can't handle alone, that pride won't do you any good. Having people in your life—family, classmates, friends—who care about you and offer even the smallest favors makes a huge difference.
If Goku has Krillin, Ash has Pikachu, and SpongeBob has Patrick, who do you have? Who's that friend you can rely on when the world feels like it's glitching out?
As an otaku, we don't exactly prioritize "bonding time." Most of us are more comfortable sitting in a quiet corner with our anime, manga, and games. It's not that we hate people or avoid friendships out of anger—it's just that we prefer our own company. The 2D world is simpler. It doesn't ask for much.
But being alone doesn't always mean you're lonely. We can be happy by ourselves, perfectly content. Yet, even in the peaceful, quiet life of an otaku, thoughts creep in—thoughts about the empty chairs at your table.
Years pass, and as you immerse yourself in your hobbies, you might grow tired of the silence. You start to wonder why something feels off, like there's a void in your chest. Then it hits you—you've been alone from the start, and it's your own doing. It's not your introverted nature to blame, but your pride in thinking you didn't need anyone. You never considered balancing your social life with being a fan. You got so consumed that you forgot to build a future that included other people.
How do I know this? Because I'm one of those people. And now, I'm trying to change, to find a balance between what I love and what I actually need to survive.
A few days later, I found myself navigating the chaotic Saturday crowd at the town mall with my sister, Nikki. We were only together because Mom had practically staged a coup, ordering me to use my own hard-earned factory money to buy what Nikki needed for school.
It's hard to stomach the idea of spending my cash—money I could've used for that new Rem figma—on my K-pop-obsessed sister's whims. But do I even have the right to complain when I'm still living under my parents' roof?
It's not that I hate spending time with her, but her tastes are a mystery to me. She was currently eyeing these tiny denim shorts that looked more like belts. To me, wearing that to a public mall just looks inappropriate. Shopping with her is a nightmare for my sanity and my wallet.
I'm not used to the bright lights and the thumping pop music of clothing stores. I felt completely out of place, eventually transitioning into my role as Nikki's glorified bag-carrier. I finally retreated to a plastic chair at a food court table near the shop she was raiding.
"How long is she taking? Is she trying on every single outfit in there?" I muttered, checking my watch for the fifth time. The smell of fried chicken and floor wax was starting to give me a headache.
Finally, she emerged, swinging a plastic shopping bag which she promptly dropped into my lap. She had nothing else to hold, yet she acted like her arms were made of glass.
"Kuya, can you give me 250 more? I saw a cute outfit in there near the counter," she said with a grin, cupping her hands expectantly.
"What? You're asking like I've got money stashed in my socks! I don't have any extra cash, Nikki. We're on a budget," I replied, patting my pocket where my thin wallet sat.
"Hah! Liar. I know you just got paid, and you barely spend on anything at home besides your data load," she shot back, leaning against the table.
"Saving money is important for the future, so no matter what you say, I'm not giving you more," I said, trying to sound firm and responsible.
Nikki started pestering me, whining and doing that annoying "please" face. We were in the middle of a crowded food court, and I could feel the eyes of nearby diners on us. As someone who hates being the center of attention, I cringed. The auntie at the next table was definitely judging us.
"Can you keep it down? People are staring," I hissed.
"It's your fault for being stingy! You're just going to spend your money on your toys anyway," she snapped, her voice rising an octave.
Her persistence was grating, and I knew she was about to launch into another lecture about my "plastic girlfriends." I had to pivot. "You know, Nikki, if you're just trying to keep up with your friends' trends, you should stop. Those girls aren't a good influence if they make you feel like you need a new wardrobe every week," I said.
"What? Don't judge my friends! I'm buying clothes because I like them, not to compete!" she retorted sharply.
As we were bickering, a girl walked past our table. My eyes snagged on her T-shirt—it featured a distinctive anime art style. I couldn't help but stare; it's an instinctual otaku reaction.
She noticed me staring and stopped mid-stride, locking eyes with me.
"Huh?"
For about five seconds, we just stood there in a weird, silent standoff. She looked oddly familiar, like a character from a memory I'd archived years ago.
"Oh my gosh! It's you!" we both blurted out at the same time, startling a group of teenagers walking behind her.
It had been almost ten years since I last saw her. We'd both grown up, but the recognition was instant.
"Daniel Muntingbato, it's really you! Wow, look at fate working its magic," she said, her voice full of genuine surprise.
"Fate? Wait... are you Lea?" I asked, squinting to be sure.
The girl with long black hair reaching her elbows and slightly tanned skin was Lea dela Paz. She was my junior back in high school, the younger sister of a classmate from Grade 8. We'd bonded back then over shared manga and game tips.
"Wow, Daniel, you've changed so much! You used to be this skinny, short kid, and now you look like... a dad!" she teased, giggling.
"W-what? You haven't changed at all—still short and skinny," I shot back, my defensive instincts kicking in.
Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she stomped over to our table, pointing a finger at me. "You're still such a bully! I'm telling my brother on you," she said, though she was clearly half-joking.
Her older brother had been a nightmare. He was a "tough guy" who loved picking on me for being an otaku. I'd spent a year just trying to be invisible whenever he was around. Then I met Lea. Once I introduced her to anime, she became my tiny, fierce defender against her brother in exchange for borrowing my manga.
Luckily, they moved away, and I thought I'd never see them again. "So, what's up with you? Are you still into that stuff? Are you still an anime fan?" I asked.
She lit up immediately. "Of course, anime is life! I'd never abandon the devotion you introduced me to, Sensei," she said with a wide grin.
"Devotion? You're still calling it that?" I replied, chuckling. It felt strangely nice to talk to someone who didn't look at me like I was a budget-depleting alien..