3:14 AM — The Hour When Otakus Apologize for Their Life Choices
The Konbini was in that dead zone of the night where even the vending machines seemed to mock your loneliness. I, Hiroto, was rearranging a stack of bento boxes no one would buy (because, let's be honest, at this hour you only come here if your life has already failed), when she decided it was the perfect time to start another stupid conversation.
"Nyaaa~ Hiroto-kun, have you ever hugged a dakimakura?" asked Aoi, hanging off the drink refrigerator like a cat on a dumpster.
"No. And if I had, I would have shot myself afterward."
"Liaaar!" she sang, hopping over to the counter with that feline grace that could only be annoying on purpose. "All otakus have one hidden away. It's the law."
"I'm not that kind of otaku."
"Oh really? Then what kind of otaku are you, Hiroto-kun?" She leaned forward, placing her hands on the counter and letting her cleavage show... Well, let's be honest, Aoi is flatter than this counter.
"The kind of otaku that doesn't spend his paycheck on pillowcases with drawings of non-existent teenagers," I said, looking away at a bag of chips that, ironically, had an anime mascot smiling as if it didn't know how pathetic all this was.
Aoi laughed, jumping up to sit on the counter again (violating at least three safety regulations) and swinging her legs as if she were in a park.
"But that's what's so great about capitalism, isn't it?" she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're alone, sad, with the existential void eating you from the inside... and bam! Here's a 2D waifu who will never reject you, never tell you you smell like cup ramen, and will always be there, smiling, even if it's just because she was printed on polyester."
"That's not great, it's depressing."
"It's business!" Aoi spread her arms as if announcing the next best-selling product. "Society looks at otakus, sees their loneliness, and instead of helping them, sells them the illusion of love in the form of a pillowcase for just 12,999 yen. It's the perfect business!"
"It's sick."
"It's marketing!" she corrected, smiling with those little shark teeth. "And the best part is you don't even need a real waifu. Why would you, when you can have your favorite character in your bed, in a suggestive pose, with no risk of her saying no?"
"That's the saddest thing you've said all night."
"What if I told you I have a dakimakura?" she asked, lowering her voice to a playful whisper.
I blinked.
"...Of who?"
"Me, obviously!" she laughed, spinning around. "I made it at one of those special photo booths. Just in case I become super famous someday and my fans want to sleep while hugging me."
"That's not narcissistic at all."
"It's an entrepreneurial venture, Hiroto-kun."
At that moment, Aoi jumped off the counter and got way too close, to the point where I could smell the strawberry gum she was always chewing.
"Want to know a secret?" she asked, looking at me with those blue eyes that seemed designed to ruin anyone's self-esteem.
"No."
"Sometimes I think... that if you had a dakimakura of me..." She paused for dramatic effect, sliding a finger along the edge of my apron. "You'd do all sorts of dirty things with it, even if you denied it."
The Konbini fell silent. Even the buzz of the lights seemed to stop.
Me, being the serious professional that I am and apparently the only adult present, responded in the only way possible:
"I'm going to throw your dog collar in the microwave."
Aoi burst out laughing, moving away with a spin that made her skirt fly up a bit too much, but as always, without quite showing anything.
"Nyaaa~! Hiroto-kun is blushing!"
"It was a muscle spasm."
"What if I told you you wouldn't need a dakimakura if I'm right here?" she continued, biting her lower lip in a way that should be illegal.
"I'd prefer the dakimakura. At least that one doesn't talk."
"So cruel!" She put a hand to her chest, feigning hurt. "But I'm much warmer... and softer... and..."
"If you finish that sentence, I'm calling the police."
"Boring!" Aoi jumped back, laughing as if she'd just hit the jackpot. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know. I could be a special cover... just for you."
"I'm calling the police."
"I promise to pose extra cute!"
"Forget it, I'm just going to burn this place down."
"I'll help you~."
The sun was beginning to rise when the last customer of the night (an otaku who looked like he hadn't seen daylight in weeks) bought a bag of Doritos and an energy drink. Aoi threw him her most mocking irrashaimaseeeen, and the guy didn't even look up.
"See?" I said, pointing at him. "That's your target audience. People who can't even make eye contact."
"But he paid in cash," Aoi replied, counting the coins with a smile. "And that's all that matters."
I couldn't argue with that.
The Konbini was still open 24 hours. The lights were still buzzing. Aoi was still a nuisance with blonde pigtails.
And me, for some stupid reason, was still there.