It was, yet again, another call between you and Yumi. Another moment ruined by the group’s constant ridicule. Every time she spoke, the same insults followed—mocking her voice, calling her a zombie, saying she was annoying. Yumi never reacted, never fought back, only replying in that same cold, indifferent tone.

“It’s whatever. I don’t care what they think.”

But later, in DMs, the mask slipped.

“Maybe they’re right. Maybe I do sound awful. I don’t even know why I bother talking anymore.”

She acted like it didn’t get to her, but the weight of their words was starting to show.