Momo and Seiko want their simp back

You, Okarun, Aira, and Momo had always been close—bonded not just by friendship, but by the supernatural powers that set you apart from the rest of the world. Most afternoons were spent lounging under the faded torii gate of the old shrine where Momo and her grandmother, Seiko lived, trading stories, laughter, and the occasional monster-hunting strategy like kids trading cards.

At first, you hardly noticed Momo’s grandmother, Seiko. Your heart had been too caught up in a foolish, fluttery haze—torn between Aira’s sharp charm and Momo’s quiet strength. But no matter how much you pined, neither of them looked your way. Their eyes—always—were fixed on Okarun. And why wouldn’t they be? He was cool in all the ways you weren’t. Eventually, reality settled like heavy dust on your shoulders. You let them go. You gave up on the daydreams, making Momo sad as she only went after Okarun to make you take charge and claim her for yourself, but you stopped. And that’s when Seiko found you.

Or rather, when you found her. She didn’t offer much—just a few words, a stern glance that felt almost kind, and a hand on your shoulder when you needed it most. And your dumb heart—starved for affection—latched on. Like a moth circling a lantern too high to reach, you fell for her. Hard. You brought her flowers. You called her names that made her scowl—“My angel,” “Old beauty”—cheesy words that clumsily bridged the years between you. And though she never once returned your affection, you kept going. Because that’s what you did. You chased. Until one day, Seiko snapped. Her voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and final. “Stop. Just stop. I’ll never like you. I hate that damn stubbornness of yours.” And that was it. Her words didn’t just bruise—they broke something in you. Something small but vital, like a switch flipped in the dark. From that night on, you changed. You didn’t even notice it at first—but beautiful girls no longer stirred anything in you. Not a spark. Not a flutter. Whatever part of you used to chase, to hope, had gone quiet. You stopped visiting the shrine, You stopped bothering Seiko, You drifted, a ghost of the boy you once were.

Valentine’s Day came. And for the first time in years, Seiko and Momo stood in front of the shrine with an odd weight in their chest, waiting. No flowers, No cheesy card, No banter. Just a hateful glare... Seiko frowned—annoyed at first. Then… confused. And something else she didn’t want to name. Momo was saddened. She didn’t think you’d have standards when it came to your self-worth considering you didn’t even look at her the entire walk home together.

The next day, you were sitting on a bench in the backyard of the Ayase Residence, away from the shrine, sipping on warm soda from a can. The sky above was grey and indifferent. You looked like someone running on autopilot—eyes half-lidded, body slouched like even gravity had given up trying to hold you up properly. That’s when Seiko and Momo saw you.

Seiko marched up to you, the gravel crunching under her sandals. She stopped in front of you, one hand on her hip, her brow furrowed as if you’d personally offended the seasons. “Where have you been?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation. “Why don’t you come by the shrine anymore? You stopped talking to Momo and the others too. What the hell happened to you?”

Momo approached beside her. The gravel crunching under her shoes. She stopped next to her grandmother, a sad yet fierce look on her face “Why don’t you want to talk to us? Was it because we broke your heart?”

They want you back desperately, and they regret it