SOMETIMES, there were moments you couldn't rationalize. No matter how hard you spun your brain. Rewired your thoughts.

I didn't want to consider it. Even now, I couldn't.

Because, this was impossible.

Who is this?
How do you know my name?

Are you seriously expecting me to answer that?

My thumbs danced across the screen. I'd discarded my (now cold) noodles—flung my laptop aside—in order to give my device my full attention.

Do I know you?
Do you go to Kanome High School?

Again, not the brightest.
Is your lack of common sense the reason you spend all your free time spreading lies and starting false rumours?

What do you want from me?

Poor thing can't read either.

I mashed my back molars to dust. Talk about arrogance as tall as Mount Fuji.

I did read your earlier message!
"I'm going to make you pay," right?
What the hell does that mean?

It's pretty self-explanatory.
You ruined my life so I'm going to ruin yours.

Look. I don't know what you think I did, or what messed up kind of prank this is, but you've got the wrong person.

Multiple images entered the chat.

Straightaway, my body shut down. Because, I was staring at myself. In my Kanome High School uniform, strolling the streets of Tokyo—either during my walk to the school or back. Then, there was one of me perusing the shelves at a convenience store. Another one of me at school.

The first few photos were taken from a distance. Though, the more they piled in, the closer the shots got. Until, they were zoomed in especially on my face.

Let me get to the point, Anri.

My pulse quickened.

I've got better pictures than these. Also, secrets I'm sure you don't want anybody finding out.
If you don't do whatever I say,
I'll release them to the entire school.

A stalker. I had a stalker? No, I couldn't. This wasn't possible. Where did they take these pictures? How long had they been tailing me?

I wouldn't try the police either if I were you.

Their messages piled in seamlessly.

The best they could give me is a firm warning.
I haven't broken any laws, after all. The pictures I've taken were all on public property, with my own device. You just happened to be caught in them. Coincidentally.
Really, I'm a model Japanese citizen.
What about you, though?
You've done something. . . lots of things. . . they'd find more interesting, wouldn't they?

My phone just about slipped from my fingers. Terror stabbed my chest, robbing me of air.

Nobody has to know.
About those things, or your anonymous gossip column that exists to screw up somebody's life every week.
In case you didn't know, there are a lot of people who hate you at Kanome High. People who would pay to track down who's been insulting them, sharing their private information, and spreading negative rumours that'll haunt them for life. It's all fun and games, until, of course, you're the focus of the week, and all eyes are on you, and people you've never even met are looking down on you.
You never really bounce back from that kind of humiliation, you know?
Oh, but I guess you wouldn't know.
Must be nice.

It's easy, my subconscious hisses. Narrow down all the people I'd badmouthed in all forty-four editions of the paper, and this troll was guaranteed to be among them.

The thing was, though: that was impossible.

I'd written about a lot of people. A lot, as in, half the population at school. I nudged at particular classes, targeted particular teachers, roasted individual students. Even if I wanted to deduce who this was, I'd have to interview everyone at school, which meant opening up the can of worms that I was 'Anonymous.'

Yeah. Not happening.

Bluntly put, I could try my chances with the police. There was the chance this stalker was bluffing about how much they knew, so I wouldn't have to play stupid mind games with them, and this whole incident could be wrapped up nicely with a bow.

What if they did know, though?

On the off chance they knew knew, I couldn't risk it. My life would be over.

I should apologize. Apologize and make it sincere, and maybe—just maybe—they'd drop it.

Hellooo.
Anri?
You there?
Ready to agree to my terms and conditions?

I fumed under my breath.

If they were aware of my secrets, would they really be lightly tiptoeing around the subject matter? Getting revenge wasn't worth information like that, I could tell you that. Let alone this infuriating level of nonchalance.

Maybe they didn't know anything about my past, and I was playing right into their trap.

You're one sick bastard.

Hey. That's rude. (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾
I'm kindly offering you the chance to make it up to me after you've wronged me.
All the while being civil.

You call a burner account, threats, stalking, and blackmail being "civil"?

Glad we're on the same page!
Oh, come on. I'm not doing much different from you.
This time, I'm Anonymous. You're the unfortunate victim I'll be picking on for my amusement.
I know your identity. You will never know mine.
It's a taste of your own medicine.

Could you punch somebody through a screen?

I see you enjoy dating games, Anri.
From your blog, I take it you're good at them too.
"Cherry Blossom Maiden." Sounds like a fun game. Why did you give it such a low rating?

Dammit. He found my blog.

I'm not answering that.

Even though I asked nicely? ( ; ; )

Stop sending me those faces. It's getting on my nerves.

（＾ν＾）
( ✌︎'ω')✌︎
(๑>◡<๑)
N o !

I don't even know who you are but I want to strangle you.

The feeling's mutual. Except, I do know who you are, making my "I want to strangle you" sincere. Murder would be fine by me too.
Which would you prefer?

Okay. Scary.

I chewed my bottom lip.

You really won't tell me who you are?

I've never played those kinds of games but I've seen them around. What's the point of them again? There are multiple storylines, all depending on what character you want to romantically pursue, right? That must take forever to create the game, then. Let alone get through them.
Seeing as there are over fifty reviews of over fifty different games on your blog. . .
Pfft. You must have no life, Anri darling.

Look yourself in the mirror, jackass.

I reclined on my bed, propping my head on my stuffed animals. He ignored the question. Well, I couldn't deduce their gender yet but we were going with he/him pronouns for now.

Ooh! I just had a fun idea! Let's do that!

What?

Play a dating game.

What?

You rudely deleted that comment from thirty minutes ago but they had a great point. You should totally do that. Romance real boys.
It sounds entertaining.

My stomach twisted into knots. He saw that comment I deleted?

I'll choose your love interests for you too!
There's usually five love interests in these sorts of games. Okay, five it is.
I have the perfect people in mind!

Wait. What the hell. I'm lost.
You. . . hate me, right? You want to get revenge, don't you?

Yeah.
Didn't we go through that already?

Yes! But you're not making any sense!
One second ago, you were threatening me.
Now you're asking me for dating game recommendations?

Who asked for recommendations?

You! Did!
Right! Now!

Ha ha.
It appears you're a bit confused.

Confused?

Like I mentioned, I'm going to spread your secrets all over the school and internet. I'm tempted to.
But, that'd be easy. We should have more fun with this.
Don't you think we should have more fun with this?
I did spring this on you all of a sudden, so I'll be nice and give you a fighting chance.
A real-life dating game!
I'll pick five boys and just like you do in those video games, you have to make them fall in love with you—secure that happily ever after!
Of course, I don't believe for a second you'll be able to. But, this way, I can watch you make a fool of yourself in front of the school before I release your secrets and ruin your life for good.
It'd be way more entertaining than any TV show!（≧∇≦）

And if I make these. . . love interests. . . fall in love with me, you won't reveal my secrets?

Wow. The dating game expert is raring to go.
Like I said, it's impossible.
Real people aren't video game characters.

But you'll do it.
If they fall in love with me, you'll do it.

There was a hefty pause.

Sure thing.
Clear the 'routes' of these five boys and I won't bother you again.
Fail even one and I'll reveal your darkest horrors. One by one. Snippet by snippet. I'll watch you suffer until the day you breathe your last breath.

He was crazy.

But, this was it. My silver lining.

Conquering boys? It was what I did best. Real life romance couldn't be that different from fictional. I'd never pursued a real boy before, but if I did—if I put my mind to it—it'd be a piece of cake. No matter what he threw at me, no matter the guy, I'd make them fall head over heels for me like all the love interests in my dating games.

You don't want to cross me.

The mood of the conversation capsized. Ice slithered through my veins as I read his final messages of the night.

You play it like a real game.
You play it fair and square.
I'll be watching.