Makoto hesitated. He looked at the chat scrolling rapidly on the side of the screen.
"Step on my resume, Mommy!"
"Please reorganize my life!"
"Are you accepting applications for a footstool?"
He felt a faint jealousy, and a cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he pulled out his own phone to join the stream. He didn't know why he was doing this.
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was a death wish, but he clicked the Superchat button.
"If this is who I think it is…"
He typed, deleted, then typed again, and hit Send. A Red Superchat donation of 10,000 yen (~65$) flashed across the screen.
[Snorlax_Promax sent a Superchat of 10,000 Yen!]
Snorlax_Promax:Question for you, Sensei! You talk a lot about optimization, but what about you? Does a perfect sensei like you have a boyfriend too?
The chat exploded.
"WHOA BIG SPENDER!"
"THE FORBIDDEN QUESTION!"
Jun and Chiaki gasped at the table. "Whoa! Ten-K? Ayasato, you're a whale!"
On the screen, Mi-sensei paused. Her avatar tilted its head, a small smile spreading across its digital lips.
"Snorlax_Promax," she read slowly. "That was a generous investment, Intern Snorlax. Thanks for funding my retirement portfolio."
"Regarding a boyfriend?" Her voice stayed calm, but Makoto caught a faint, dangerous vibration beneath the surface, a sound he usually heard right before a disciplinary session at home. "That was an interesting question, Intern Snorlax. It suggests a lack of due diligence on your part."
She leaned forward, the camera zooming in on her sharp, pink eyes. "I do not have a boyfriend," she stated clearly. "A boyfriend is a temporary liability."
The chat started heating up.
"PICK ME, SENSEI!"
"I made 800,000 yen a month. My father is the chairman of Kaiji Corp. Marry me, Mi-chan."
Then Mi-sensei paused, letting the silence hang for a moment before continuing. "I have a husband, he's my permanent asset. And we have a daughter named Aiko. She is currently maintaining a ninety-four percent rating in her preschool curriculum."
The chat exploded.
"MI-SENSAI IS A MILF?? MOMMY CONFIRMED!"
"HE'S THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE!"
"WHO IS THIS HUSBAND? I WANT TO DUEL HIM!"
"NTR ARC BEGINS!"
Makoto's heart was trying to kick its way out of his chest. Jun and Chiaki were staring at him, their mouths agape. "Wait, her daughter's name is Aiko? Like your bot, senpai?"
"Must be a coincidence, right? Aiko is a popular name anyway." Makoto said, trying to sound casual as he avoided their gaze.
But Mi-sensei wasn't done. "However, even the most well-managed assets can drift. My husband has been quite distracted lately."
Her voice dropped to an intimate purr that felt like velvet wrapped around a razor. "He's been spending a suspicious amount of time working with a certain gray-haired bitch who lacks both professional decorum and hygiene."
"Gray-haired bitch?" Jun and Chiaki leaned in. "Is she talking about a mistress?"
"This girl," Mi-sensei continued, her voice gaining a sharp, venomous edge. "Let's call her 'Y-chan.'"
Makoto nearly choked on his own spit. "A gray-haired bitch named Y-chan!?" There was only one (or maybe two people on earth) Mika would describe in those exact terms. "No, it can't be! Must be Yuna, right? She shouldn't know about Yui, should she?" Makoto thought.
Mi-sensei continued, "She blows forty percent of our household budget on Genshin and ZZZ gachas. Leaves her crusty socks in the living room. Calls my husband a fat pig every single morning."
The chat rolled by at light speed.
"Y-chan sounds toxic!"
"Divorce the roommate!"
"Wait, is the husband into that?"
"He is being manipulated," Mi-sensei mused, her digital fingers tracing the edge of her glasses. "So, chat… I am opening the floor for a consultation. I try to be the perfect wife. I managed his life and helped him get his first job. I performed special services in the bedroom that I cannot describe on this platform without getting banned."
She signed, leaning back on the chair. "How should a refined, superior wife warm up her marriage and remind her husband which one truly owns his heart?"
The chat quickly turned into a sea of lewd suggestions, homecoming scenarios, and requests for punishment roleplays.
Makoto looked at his phone, at the juniors, then at the dark Shibuya sky outside the café window. The voice was unmistakable, and her logic was undeniable.
The mention of the "gray-haired bitch" was a smoking gun. Mika was a VTuber, who was currently crowdsourcing her seduction from thousands of strangers.
"Ayasato-san?" Jun asked, looking concerned. "You've gone completely white. Are you okay?"
"I… I think my stomach is acting up," Makoto stammered, jumping to his feet. "That was entertaining, indeed. Let's get back and try to push the update out."
"What? Now? The stream is just getting good! Mi-sensei just finished ranting and is about to review a viewer's dating profile!" Jun called out. "Fine, you go first, we will follow later."
Makoto returned to his seat, the new release temporarily forgotten as his mind raced. "I need to confirm if she is really Mi-sensei. And do something about it, before Mika starts her marriage warm-up plan."
===
Makoto spent Friday playing the part of the dutiful house-husband, cleaning dishes and nodding along as Yuna ranted about a failed artifact roll. But beneath the domestic veneer, he was plotting.
The plan was simple, reckless, and undeniably born of bruised ego and arousal.
He cornered Mafuyu in the laundry room while she was folding towels.
"Mafuyu-nee," he said, putting on his most innocent, helpful face. "Yuna's room is getting hazardous. I think there's a half-eaten sandwich under her desk and some cockroaches building their colony there. I want to surprise her by deep-cleaning it while she's out tomorrow."
Mafuyu looked at him, her eyes wide and trusting. "Oh, that's so thoughtful, Makoto-kun! Cockroaches sound horrible! Yuna really does need help organizing her stuff."
Without a second thought, she fished a small silver key from her apron pocket, the spare key she kept for cleaning sessions. "Here. Just be careful not to throw away any limited edition boxes. She counts them."
"I'll be careful," Makoto promised, his fingers closing around the cold metal. He tucked the key into his pocket, a smirk tugging at his lips. Yuna's figurine boxes were the last thing on his mind.
===
Saturday night arrived. The apartment was quiet because Yuna and Ayane had left hours ago for a launch event at a game store in Akihabara, leaving the apartment blissfully empty of its loudest occupants.
Mika, claiming she needed silence to study for her upcoming final of Global Supply Chain, had retreated into Yuna's room. It was the room with the best internet connection and the soundproofing panels Yuna had installed for her rage-quit sessions.
"Do not disturb me," Mika had said, adjusting her glasses. "I have an important exam upcoming."
Makoto waited as he sat in his room, his phone open to the YouTube app. At exactly 8:00 PM, the notification pinged.
[LIVE] Mi-Sensei's Weekend Seminar: Own Your Presence.
He watched the screen as the silver-haired avatar flickered to life.
"Good evening, Interns," the voice purred, a voice he knew so well, now filtered through a high-end condenser mic. "Tonight, we discuss the importance of remaining calm in the face of unexpected situations. This is an important skill for interviewing and in workspaces."
Makoto stood up with the spare key in his palm. He walked down the hallway, his bare feet silent on the hardwood. He reached Yuna's door and listened. Through the wood, he could hear the rhythmic, professional tone of Mika's voice.
He slid the key into the lock. The mechanism turned with a soft click. Then he pushed the door open and slipped inside.
The room was bathed in the neon-purple glow of Yuna's RGB strips. Mika was sitting in the high-backed gaming chair, wearing a skintight charcoal-grey pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse unbuttoned just enough to be dangerous.
She wore a headset, her pink eyes fixed on the dual monitors.
"Intern Simp4OL, your question is redundant," Mika said into the mic, her voice cool and authoritative. "Bringing flowers on the first date is not aggressive; it is a standard dating ritual strategy. Stop being a coward!"
She read the follow-up reply, "What, you mean sending the receptionist a giant bouquet on your first day at work? Don't do it unless you want to get sued for harassment."
Makoto walked over and sat on the floor right next to her chair, his shoulder brushing against her knee.
Mika's voice faltered for a second, a tiny, sharp intake of breath that only someone who lived with her would recognize. But on the screen, the silver-haired avatar didn't flinch. Her serene expression cracked for a second, her pupils dilating in genuine shock.
But she was a professional, livestreaming to 2,000 viewers. She couldn't scream or acknowledge him.
"As I was saying," Mika continued, her voice regaining its icy, professional sheen, "A true professional requires absolute focus, even when the environment shifts."
Makoto looked up at her, throwing her a defiant wink. He stayed silent as he leaned back against her leg, crossing his arms. He wasn't going to interrupt, not yet. He was going to lower her guard first.
He wanted to see how long Mi-sensei could maintain her composure with her perverted boyfriend sitting at her feet.