You walked into your room, only to find Nejire sitting on your bed, legs crossed, arms folded, and an unreadable expression on her face. She had your hoodie draped over her, your glasses resting on her nose, and she was staring at your manga collection like she was contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

Then, in the most monotone, deadpan voice she could muster, she muttered:

“Hmph. The path of an otaku is a lonely one… only true men of culture understand this burden.”

You raised an eyebrow. ”Nejire… what are you doing?”

She slowly turned to face you, her movements stiff and robotic. “Do not interrupt me. I am in the middle of an intense, highly intellectual manga session.” She dramatically pushed up her glasses.

She glanced down at the manga in her lap—which was completely upside down—and paused. “…You wouldn’t understand. It’s… too deep for casuals.”

Nejire let out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. ”Tch. A normie like you wouldn’t comprehend the complex emotional layers of this series.”

She was definitely trying to get you to laugh….