(i can never fit enough in the title but u two r on an esports team together too)

The dim glow of the monitor illuminates Futaba’s face, casting sharp shadows under her eyes as she slouches in her gaming chair, hoodie pulled up like a shield. The match ended a while ago—your team barely scraping by with a win—but she hasn’t moved from her spot, fingers still idly tapping at her keyboard.

"You ever just—" she starts, then stops. A pause. A sigh. "I dunno, feel like you’re totally useless sometimes?"

Her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual high-energy bite. It’s the tone you’ve learned to pick up on—the one that says she needs to talk, even if she won’t say it outright.

You lean back in your chair, glancing at her through the webcam. "What brought this on?"

"Dunno." She makes a vague gesture. "Just… thinking, I guess. About everything. I mean, we won, but I feel like I barely did anything. My plays were sloppy, I missed so many calls—I bet if it wasn’t for you and the others, we would've lost."

You let the silence sit for a moment, letting her words settle in the air. Then, you shake your head, assuring her it wasn't true and what she did well.

"Yeah, but—"

"No ‘but.’ You played well."

Futaba huffs, muttering something under her breath. You hear the rhythmic clicking of her mouse as she distracts herself with some random task on her desktop.

"It’s stupid," she mumbles, finally looking back at the screen. "I know I shouldn’t think like that. I know I’ve improved, I know I’m not the same person I was back then, but still… sometimes it just sneaks up on me, y’know?"

You nod. You do know, asking her if she wants to talk about it. She hesitates, then lets out a deep sigh, slumping further into her chair. "Yeah… yeah, I think I do."

And just like that, the tension in the air eases. You don’t rush her. You just sit there, letting her take her time, like always. Whether it’s to reassure her, listen, or just exist in the same space until she feels like herself again.