Chapter CVII: Directions at Odds
A tall guy sits alone in his dimly lit room, the glow of his monitor flickering across his glasses. His long legs are propped up on a swivel chair, one hand slouched lazily over his mouse while the other digs into a bag of cheesy corn snacks. The walls are littered with posters—some from retro anime, others from ancient first-person shooter games with hilariously pixelated graphics. The screen displays the pixelated but beloved landscape of Craftsburg, the massive open-world sandbox game he still plays religiously.
His avatar, a blocky knight wearing purple shades and a chicken hat, proudly bears the name Looka-Looka.
"Alright," he says, cracking his neck, "time to build a floating ramen shop that doubles as a PvP arena—just like the good ol' days."
But as soon as he enters a public lobby, a name catches his eye, MashPotato10506
His mouse halts. His character just stands there, frozen among sprinting players and fireball spam.
"Huh..." he mutters, leaning in. "Now that's a name I haven't seen in a long time."
He then flashbacks to his elementary days at Shinomiya High School. The school nurse squints behind her glasses, adjusting her white coat as she checks the measuring tape that stretches high on the wall. A lanky kid stands awkwardly against it, trying not to slump.
"Let's see..." the nurse murmurs. "One hundred and sixty centimeters? In Grade 4? That's twice the size of your classmates, young man!"
The tall kid adjusts his cracked glasses. His uniform pants look like they shrank in the wash again. He stays quiet as the nurse leans closer to his name tag.
"Haru Okurimono..." she reads.
Little Haru just nods politely, but mentally he's somewhere else—probably in Nukesquad, the low-res, high-chaos shooter game he obsesses over. Or maybe he's thinking about his recent high score in Katana Kats, the retro samurai side-scroller his classmates say looks "too old."
He doesn't have many friends, but that's okay. Haru has his games. And memes. Mostly memes.
In high school, Haru stares blankly at his new classroom. Everyone's a stranger. The desks are pristine. The chalkboard is terrifyingly green. He takes the seat by the window, of course, like every anime protagonist should.
Then someone flops beside him, whispering something under his breath.
"Headshot. Double kill. Yesss."
Haru peeks over.
The guy beside him is furiously tapping at his phone. The screen is unmistakable. Nukesquad.
"Yo," Haru blurts before he can stop himself, "that's Nukesquad."
The guy freezes. Looks up. Grins wide.
"You play?"
"Bro. I main Firebat."
"Dude! I'm a Wallhacker. But like... legit, not cheating."
They shake hands in a weird bro-fist-grab-slap combo.
"I'm Asahi."
"Haru."
Soon, Asahi introduces Haru to Masashi, who's always carrying two phones—one for games, one for memes. Then comes Enmei, the quiet genius who makes meme edits faster than light, and finally Kota, the emotionally expressive guy who sends inspirational quotes followed by fart memes.
Together, they form The BroTubers.
Their group chat explodes daily with 2018-2019 memes.
"Is this loss?"
"Somebody toucha my ramen!"
"Big Plungus has entered the server."
"Area 51 Raid Plan: Sneak in, Baruto run, grab SwedePie merch."
It might sound like they're hosting a livestream but technically playing privately in their own game that they're acting like it is a livestream. Guts and glory to teams vs teams on the games ultra-galore.
The class is buzzing with excitement. Kyoto Tower glows behind them. The teachers are trying (and failing) to organize the students into proper lines.
Inside the massive Kyoto mall, the BroTubers split up.
"Yo, Kota," Haru calls, "tag team to the food court?"
"Let's go," Kota grins.
They roam past Takoyaki stands, gadget stores, and photo booths that promise to make your eyes "100x shinier." Haru spots a vending machine that only sells socks and gets overly emotional.
"Why do we not have this in our town?! It's revolutionary!"
While Haru is busy buying a pair of neon banana socks, the two stumble into the tech section—and there she is.
Akiko, politely wondering where's the Comic Alley of the mall since it just opened 4 months ago while Hanako, right next to her, inspecting phone cases shaped like pigs.
Masashi is nearby, pressed up against a stack of PCs at Hexagon, searching for new components for a PC build.
The air thickens.
"Oh hey, Akiko. Hanako," Kota says, acting cool but lowkey tripping over a display box behind him.
Akiko nods and greets them softly. Hanako gives a polite wave, lips pursed.
Haru's like, "Wow this is awkward, I'm going to pretend to check wireless mouses."
The crowd shifts. Kota and Haru walk towards the escalator. As they rise, they spot Enmei coming from the lower floor, his arms full of oddly-shaped packages.
"Yo," Enmei pants, "Have you seen Hanako?"
Kota jerks a thumb behind him. "She's with Akiko. Computer section."
Enmei blinks. "I just passed Akiko. She was alone."
They all pause. Dramatic music might as well play.
"Plot twist?" Haru mumbles.
Kota: "Where the heck did she go?"
Enmei: "I got Hanako this cat-shaped humidifier she's always wanted. Don't tell anyone though—it's got a disco light."
As they walk toward the bus, Haru excuses himself for a toilet break.
When he returns—Asahi is nowhere to be found.
He texts. He calls. Nothing.
He walks around the mall alone for twenty minutes, accidentally entering a baby photography shop and pretending he's "just looking."
Eventually, Haru shrugs and returns to the bus.
Then when Kota got friendzoned, it also turns out that their number 1 BroTuber is getting beaten by sub count by I-Series.
Kota: "Guys, let's not disband... please. We've come too far. We beat Big Plungus together. We made the cursed ASMR ramen challenge video. We even meme'd SwedePie into a fake scandal."
Masashi: "But... I-Series surpassed him. Our BroTuber idol is dethroned."
Asahi: "We lost our purpose."
Enmei: "I just wanna code in peace..."
Haru: "We can't let a channel name change break us."
Masashi: "They have a whole team now. We're just... meme fossils."
Kota: "You're fossilizing your soul, Masashi!"
But despite Kota's dramatic pleas, they all click Leave Group Chat one by one.
Kota is the last one.
He types:
"We were more than meme lords. We were brothers."
No one sees it.
Still in the flashback, the second year of high school begins—not with fireworks, but with the groggy, barely-awake Haru hitting his alarm clock and mumbling, "Why can't mornings start at noon?"
Despite that, the moment he opens Nukesquad, his entire mood changes.
"Kleine Rogers has joined the server."
"Yo," Haru types quickly as Looka-Looka.
Asahi replies with a spam of exploding potato emojis.
Their bond is revived, fueled not by deep conversations or shared trauma—but by memes, headshots, and who can spam the meme board faster. They've also noticed Kota hasn't really bounced back after that Kyoto trip. He's been quiet, wearing the same hoodie three days in a row. He looks like he's in an indie music video.
So, Asahi says, "Bro, we gotta get Kota back."
And thus, the group chat is born. The name?
"The Boring Scientists"
No one really knows why, but Haru insists it's "ironic."
Kota is added with zero context. His first message?
"...okay who are the scientists and why is there an Accord ping sound in my dreams now."
Then a flood of spam follows:
Haru sends a meme of a penguin slapping another penguin with the caption: "snap out of it, bro!"
Asahi drops an image of a potato labeled Kota's courage, missing since 2019
Haru follows up with a low-res GIF of a cat hitting a toy piano with the text: "you when you say you're over her but hear her name"
Kota responds with a laughing emoji, then sends "shut up you twats, but thanks."*
That night, the three of them squad up in Nukesquad. Haru dominates the leaderboard, Kota finds his aim again, and Asahi keeps shouting into the mic, "REVIVE ME—REVIVE—NEVER MIND—WE'RE ALL DEAD!"
Back in school, their energy spills over like a soft drink bottle shaken by a toddler.
One time, Haru and Kota sneak into the canteen early and replace Asahi's cup noodles with DeathFire Ultra Spicy Noodles. The kind that has flames on the packaging and a warning label in five languages.
They watch from behind a vending machine as Asahi slurps—
"Ah Sh*t, here we go again! Here's Kleiney!"
He runs across the hallway like his tongue is being chased by demons. He gulps a random classmate's Yakult and screams, "YOU'RE ALL GOING DOWN!"
Another day, Asahi and Haru sneak behind Kota while he's asleep in class and stick googly eyes on the back of his head. When Kota wakes up and scratches his neck, the eyes fall into his collar. He spends the rest of class twitching like he's being haunted.
"WHO'S TOUCHING ME???"
Still, Haru doesn't like being on the receiving end.
One fateful day, he walks into the classroom, confident, cool, hair done right. He sits down and opens his notebook—and a glitter bomb explodes in his face.
Kota and Asahi high-five behind him.
"You... absolute war criminals..." Haru mutters, blinking rainbows off his lashes for the next week.
Eventually, they all download a meme soundboard app on their phones. Every lecture is a minefield. Every sleeping student is fair game.
Professor Tanaka: "So as we look at the data curve—"
"DEEZ NUTS!"
The entire class erupts. Enmei snores in the back, and Haru plays "WAKE UP, SAMURAI" from his meme app. Enmei jerks awake and says, "Did someone say 'waffle'?"
Soon after, Masashi walks in during lunch, slamming his tray down and pointing a chicken nugget at Haru.
"I want in," he says.
"In where?" Haru blinks.
"Your meme cult."
They add him in. Enmei joins too, claiming, "I was there spiritually anyway."
The group chat evolves. No longer just Boring Scientists, they are now the Nukesquad: The Sigma Edition with their new nicknames: Sigma Typhoon (Kota), Kleine Rogers (Asahi), Looka-Looka (Haru), MashPotato10506 (Masashi), and Loli-lover517 (Enmei)
Oh boy, the last one causes chaos.
Haru: "Enmei. Seriously?"
Masashi: "He's gonna get us all FBI watched."
Asahi: "BRUH—DOES YOUR MOM KNOW???"
Enmei just shrugs. "It's ironic."
Kota deadpans, "So is my GPA."
As Nukesquad, they conquer servers, destroy killstreaks, and make countless inside jokes like:
"Don't be an Enmei" (meaning: don't fall asleep mid-match)
"That's a Kota move" (meaning: noble but doomed)
"Bro, don't Looka-Looka it" (meaning: don't overthink)
Asahi then says, "Haru you got one on your tail!"
Haru exclaims, "It's ok my tail's regenerative, I'll slash them off!"
Masashi then shouts, "Help! Someone's shocking me in the ass!"
Enmei, "Bro use the multi-bomb button, are trying to be Kota?"
Kota then says, "Seriously? Just one click and I'm dead again?!"
Asahi laughs, "Yup, that's being Kota, 1-second and dead again. Haha."
Everything's golden—until one fateful prank gone wrong.
It starts innocent: Kota tries to prank Haru with a fake error pop-up that says "Game Uninstalled."
But Haru just stares at it, blankly.
His voice goes flat. "You... you deleted my files?"
"No bro, it's a joke—"
But Haru doesn't laugh. The line goes dead. No response for hours.
When he logs back in, the group name is gone. Deleted. Wiped. A notification that reads, "Haru left the group."
Kota tries to re-add him and message declined. Asahi messages yet nothing.
Even Masashi sends a GIF of FoamBob crying but no response.
The next week, the pandemic hits. Lockdowns everywhere. Curfews, masks, online classes.
Haru becomes... a ghost, but not in the way one would expect it to be but online.
The controller gathers dust. Nukesquad? No longer.
He grows distant. Keeps to himself. Watches anime in bulk, plays retro games offline, and eats cereal straight out of the box at 2AM.
The rest of them try to move on. But the group just isn't the same.
Then when he comes to senior high, he gets demoted from 1-A to 1-B. That's the word Haru keeps hearing in his head.
From the advanced class to Section 1-B. Why? Because his online performance tanked. He kept skipping Zooms and once submitted an assignment with the words, "Let me sleep, for I no longer dream."
But fate, being dramatic, isn't done.
One rainy Monday, he walks through the hallway with his hoodie up, earbuds in, blasting nostalgic 2018 memes remixed into lo-fi beats.
And then—bam.
He bumps into someone. "Oi, sorry," Haru mumbles.
He looks up—
It's Asahi.
Behind him?
Kota.
"Yo," Asahi grins. "You still Looka-Looka?"
Kota, a bit nervous, raises a peace sign. "Hey, Haru."
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the mighty Kleine Rogers and Sigma Typhoon?", Haru smirks.
"Actually, I go by Crimson now, and Kota goes by Typhoon", Asahi responds back.
Then, there's an awkward silence. Like one of those movie moments before a fistfight—or a hug.
Asahi breaks it. "Still hate us?"
Haru shrugs. "Nah... I just didn't feel like being in a squad back then."
Kota nods, eyes soft. "It's okay, man. I guess we all needed some space."
They talk. They laugh a bit. Even joke about Masashi's old username.
But deep inside, Haru feels... something.
Not anger. Not sadness. Just this small, sharp thing he can't name.
A grudge?
A scar?
He doesn't know.
But he smiles anyway. "You guys still on Nukesquad?"
Asahi replies, "We're always ready. Waiting for Looka-Looka to come back."
Then the flashback ends and back to the present
Haru leans closer to the screen, wiping his sweaty palms on his worn-out pajama shorts. It's almost midnight, the hum of his ceiling fan blending with the clunky background music of Craftsburg. He stares at the floating avatar next to him—an armored character with a potato for a helmet, proudly labeled MashPotato10506.
That name.
That absurd, starchy name.
Haru squints. "No way."
He watches the avatar bounce up and down erratically, throwing out random emotes. He knows that movement. That spastic, potato-fueled enthusiasm.
It has to be him.
His hand hovers over the mic button. This could be nothing... or— Screw it.
He presses the mic and shouts mid-game, as his character swings a pixelated shovel at a mutant sheep, "OI! WHO THE HECK STOLE MY CRAFTBERRY PIE?! I WORKED HARD FOR THAT!"
There's a pause.
Then a familiar voice responds, all too chill and oddly amused, "...Looka-Looka? Is that you?"
Haru freezes, blinking at the screen. The nostalgic punch to the gut nearly knocks the air out of him.
"Masashi?" he croaks, before clearing his throat. "I mean—MashPotato10506?! You legendary carb-loving clown! It is me. Haru. Looka-Looka. Hey, how you doing, man?!"
MashPotato10506 giggles, and it's unmistakable. That's the old Masashi giggle—the kind that sounds like someone trying not to choke on instant ramen.
"Bro, no way. Come join Accord. There's a lot of other players here too. Let's voice call. We're planning something while building the Great Wall of Craftsburg."
Haru's fingers hover over the mouse. He hesitates. Accord. The place where it all began. Where the Nukesquad thrived... and imploded.
But curiosity—and the yearning to reconnect—win.
He clicks join.
Doot.
The voice channel opens. Masashi is already chatting away with someone else.
"...and then, he fell into the lava pit 'cause he thought it was orange juice! You can't make this up!"
Haru snorts. "Still making people suffer in the blocky world, huh?"
"Hey, hey, everyone," Masashi calls out. "Guess who I just found. Looka-Looka's back from the ashes!"
There's a pause on the line. Static. Then, a few surprised "yo"s and "no way"s pop in. But then Masashi's tone shifts, slightly serious.
"We're glad you're here, Haru," he says. "But... I also have some news."
Haru's fingers tense on the keyboard. "News?"
Masashi's voice drops a pitch. "You didn't hear? Akiko and Kota are missing."
Everything slows for Haru—the game sounds fade into the background, the pixelated sky in Craftsburg dims, and the laughter on the call turns to silence.
He blinks.
"Missing...?"
Masashi exhales. "Yeah. Kota was going through something. We thought it was just another breakdown, but things spiraled fast. Akiko went after him. Now no one knows where they are. We're forming a small search party. At least—well—digitally coordinating. That's why we're all here."
Haru's heart pounds.
Of course Kota would vanish.
Of course Akiko would follow.
He clenches his jaw and opens his mouth to respond—but nothing comes out.
"Will you help us find him?" Masashi asks, softly.
Haru's eyes shift away from the screen. He gazes at the old wooden shelf beside his desk. A framed photo sits quietly among stacks of manga volumes and snack wrappers. He lifts it.
The picture: three boys in summer uniforms, standing in front of Kyoto Tower. Haru in the middle with his ridiculous grin and doing a SwedePie fist, Asahi flashing a peace sign, and Kota looking both confused and camera-shy.
Haru puts down the photo and exhales.
He finally sees it clearly.
The whole falling out...
It was his fault.
He was the one who took things too far. The one who held on to bitterness instead of apologizing. The one who thought laughter covered up everything, when it really just distracted him from his own pride.
He closes his eyes for a moment.
Then opens the mic.
"I'll help you."
Masashi perks up. "You will?"
"Yeah," Haru nods. "Tell me what I need to do."
There's a long pause.
Then the Craftsburg team chat explodes.
Masashi: "WE GOT LOOKA-LOOKA BACK."
Enmei: "Wait—HE'S BACK?! OMG CHANGE THE SERVER NAME."
Asahi (popping into the call): "Wait hold up—LOOKA?!"
But Haru feels something.
Like the first crack of dawn after a long night.
He'll make it right.
He has to.
The Nukesquad rides again.
And this time, it won't fall apart.
Not on his watch.