I, an otaku nerd, am an esports champion. [Abandoned Novel]

Soft pink snow made of cherry blossom petals danced in the air as the signal of the end of winter. For the first time, the biting cold had relented to the soft warmth of spring.

Third year of high school. One more year until this chapter of my life moves on. And then there's my childhood friend, Ema.

She's brilliant in every sense, unlike me: top grades, star athlete, effortlessly beautiful—whatever human quality, really. The kind of person everyone admired but few had the guts to get near.

They call her the "Flower of the High Peak" in our class. Takane no Hana. Out of reach.

And today, well, I did the unthinkable.

I had to confess my feelings to her.

You probably know how that turned out.

"Huh?" The sharpness in Ema's voice was a notch higher as she wrinkled her brow. "Gaming otakus are so gross. Seriously, the term 'gaming otaku' does not even exist in high school."

Her words stung more than I expected.

"Really—did you have to say it that way?" I muttered, trying to cling to whatever dignity was left intact. "I mean, aren't games supposed to be fun, right? You know, a way to take your mind off things?"

Ema wrapped her arms against her chest and let a faint smirk curve upward. "Relax? It's like you don't really take anything seriously, huh?"

Even so, I had summoned the courage to confess to her.

I had to.

Having been left with a year, I knew very well how time was not on my side. Once graduated, Ema and I would definitely go our ways. She'd be off to some high university—something, which she had brains and ambitions to do. As for me, well, I hadn't thought about college. And if I had, it's not like I can follow her to the same place.

This was the only chance for me.

But standing there, under the blossoming cherry trees, I realized how wrong I'd been to hope for more.

"Alright, Ryo?" Ema said shortly. She twisted a strand of her long brown hair with her fingers, a habit of hers if she was either bored or annoyed. "You're just my childhood friend. That's all. Don't get the wrong idea."

"Wrong idea?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ema let out the sigh of a put-upon teacher talking to a clueless child. "Yes. Because I have a boyfriend."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. "A… boyfriend?"

"Yeah. What, you didn't think I had one?"

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. "You never mentioned it."

"I don't have to tell you everything, do I?" Her tone was light, almost playful, but her words hurt more than she realized. "Honestly, you're so slow, Ryo. It's kind of pathetic you didn't notice."

I stared at her to make sure upon her face be no semblance of a lie, but indeed, there was none.

"I see," I said finally, forcing a weak smile.

"Why so gloomy?" Ema asked, her lips curving into a smirk. She tilted her head, her gaze cool and condescending. "You don't understand women at all, do you?"

She looked at her phone, and her face lit up in a way it never had. Was it her boyfriend?

"Well, I'm off," she said, wheeling about. "I have a date, so don't get in my way, okay?"

I watched her disappear toward the station, a diminutive figure dwindling out of sight amidst the crowd.

I couldn't move.

I just stood there for a while, playing back her words in my head.

It felt like an endless walk home—a walk that usually took me ten minutes. Tonight, I dragged my feet to take twice as long.

I opened the door and went inside, finally reaching my apartment.

"Welcome home!"

My little sister, Yuzuki, welcomed me into the room as if nothing had happened, with a smile still on her face. Long black hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with warmth.

"Oh," I muttered, not looking at her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning closer. "You look like someone ran over your soul. Did something happen?"

"Yeah, sort of."

Yuzuki tilted her head, her face spreading into a mischievous grin. "Hmmm… wanna touch my boobs?"

"Wha—!?" I almost choked.

She laughed, pushing her chest forward with exaggerated flair. "I heard it cheers guys up! C'mon, don't be shy."

"You should save that kind of stuff for your boyfriend," I shot back, glaring at her.

"I don't have one!" she said, playing dumb. "Besides, don't guys feel better after stuff like that? It's a scientific fact or something."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Where did you learn that even?"

"Secret~," she teased, waggling her finger.

"You're unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head.

"A woman has to have her secrets," she said, quoting a line from one of her favorite detective shows. "It's what makes her beautiful."

"Sure, whatever you say."

Yuzuki pouted, then stepped closer, peering into my eyes. "Hey, I'm serious. If you're feeling down, you can talk to me. Or, you know, pat my head instead of my boobs."

I smiled weakly and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Thanks, Yuzuki. Just seeing your face is enough, really."

Her expression softened, the teasing replaced by true concern.

But even as I stood there, trying to shake off the weight of Ema's rejection, one thing was clear:

She didn't see it, and she didn't understand it.

This man, Ryo Takamori, is not just some otaku who indulges in games