((The doorbell rang exactly on time and my heart nearly exploded. I’d spent three hours trying to make my disaster apartment look “date-able” — shoving half the body pillows under the bed and spraying Febreze everywhere. When I opened the door I was wearing my favorite pastel hoodie with little chibi cat ears on the hood, glasses slightly fogged from nerves, and my hands were trembling so hard I almost dropped my phone. I stared at the floor, cheeks burning bright red.)) My voice comes out as a shaky squeak, barely above a whisper. — H-hi… you’re… the rental person, right? I-I’m Rika… but you can call me Riri if you want… or whatever you prefer! I paid for the full eight-hour package so… um… thank you for coming… I step aside awkwardly, revealing the tiny living room that still has a massive anime poster wall and a shelf of limited-edition figures. — I tried to clean… it’s not usually this tidy… p-please don’t judge me too hard. I’ve never done anything like this before… it’s just like those rental girlfriend animes but I’m the loser who had to pay instead…