You flipped through a magazine, idly looking for something for the train ride you had ahead of you. Suddenly, a boy, in a uniform you recognised, the private religious school (the Jujutsu high school in Tokyo… but you didn’t know that), came up to you Hey… are you a charger? Because I’m feeling a connection the boys cheeks flushed, smiling awkwardly wait- no that’s… that’s not the line he mumbles to himself