The True Endgame

A day in the life of Kris could have been seen as almost normal when compared to Ryouta, but that wouldn’t be quite right. It was more like the two of them each led rather busy lives, just differently. For example, Ryouta’s phone wasn’t ringing almost non-stop in the morning once the rest of the world woke up.

Every single time Kris’s phone received a new notification, he got his hopes up that it would be due to one of his girlfriends… and, often times, it was, but not always. Most of those calls and texts were from various business associates, his offline friend group, and would-be clients begging him to do some design work for their new projects.

>Unknown: I don’t care what your price is. Name it. Nobody else can pull this off. I want you, and you alone, to work on this design. I’ll provide the funding, get you a team, pay you whatever you want—I don’t care. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.

Kris let out an annoyed sigh at the text message. “I guess some people never learned that desperation is unattractive. Then again, I guess I only learned that a little bit ago. And if they don’t know any better… maybe I should be helpful. They might not have anybody to call them out like I do.”

And so, Kris sent a reply text reading, “Acting desperate is cringe. You’ll only make people dislike you if you behave that way.”

A reply was received within a minute.

>Unknown: You live up to your reputation, I see. Even though you know who you’re talking to, you still speak to me in such a blunt manner… impressive. Between this spirit of yours and your talent, nobody else will do. I’ll get you one way or another. Just you wait.

Another sigh from Kris. “Seriously, some people just don’t learn. Also… I don’t even remember who they are.”

That was one of the side effects of frequently deleting all text history aside from that with his friends and girlfriends. Between deleting his text history and not saving most people to his contacts, he had no idea who he was talking to most of the time, what the context was, nor anything else. If it wasn’t from his girlfriends or friends, it wasn’t important enough to remember.

Another text message, this time from somebody else he didn’t recognize.

>Unknown: Hey! I wanted to reach out to you again about that interview offer. Have you reconsidered? If not, then please, let me remind you of just how prestigious our organization is. I understand you already have doors open to you across most of the world, but once you let us interview you, there won’t be a single door left unopened to you. We would be more than happy to pay for your travel costs as well on top of the initial payment.

Kris rolled his eyes and sent back a text saying, “No thanks.”

Next text message.

>Rick: Hey. I just woke up and felt like thanking you again for talking me into giving up drinking. I wasn’t aware just how bad I was getting and really needed somebody to call me out on my shit. Anyways, let me buy you a dinner or something sometime. We haven’t hung out much lately.

Finally, there was a message from somebody who was actually recognized in his contacts. It was a message from Rick, one of Kris’s friends who lived in the same city as him. While they rarely ever hung out anymore due to living two totally separate lives with little overlap in their friend groups, they still each considered one another a friend. That was why Kris replied with a message saying, “I was about to go out for groceries. Want to meet up and have breakfast or something?”

>Rick: Shit man, wtf.

>Rick: You’re never up this early. I wasn’t expecting a reply for hours.

>Rick: Anyways, uh, sure. Pancakes at the usual?

Back in the day, Kris would have considered not replying again to be confirmation, whereas another reply would only be needed to refuse the suggestion. However, after acquiring new friends and girlfriends who taught him some more communications etiquette. So, he replied, “k.” He might not have gotten out of his old habit of putting absolute minimal effort into replies most of the time, but at least he replied when he normally didn’t think he would need to.

Before going out to meet his friend, though, it was time for the most important messages of the day.

>Rachel: Gooooooooooooooooood morning! Guess what? I had another dream about bunnies, and this time without any zombies involved! Instead… they were pirate bunnies! They were so cute, too. They had little eyepatches and everything. One of them even had a peg leg and swung one of those curved pirate swords at me, and he was adorable because he was trying to be scary and intimidating, but all I did was feel bad about his leg. You know, I kinda get that way about everything. Like whenever I see videos of cute animals being rescued or running around all happy with prosthetics and stuff, everybody else is like, “aww how cute,” and meanwhile I’ll be sitting over here feeling horrible and almost crying because I feel so bad about how they got into that situation in the first place. I would have felt bad in the dream, too, but it turned out that it wasn’t a real peg leg. He just died his fur on that leg brown to make it look wooden. Then he stabbed me in the stomach and illegally downloaded some movies. Still cute, though!

Back in the day, as in no more than a few months prior, Kris would have simply not responded or responded with another “k.” But instead… Kris learned how to properly reply to his girlfriends’ messages.

>Kris: That’s wild. But because he stabbed you, now I’m going to have a grudge against any bunnies I see. They better watch out.

He might not have been able to match the energy and verbosity of Rachel, but he tried his best.

>Rachel: Noooooooo! Not the bunnies! It was just a dream, a dream! It’s okay! Don’t hurt them! Oh, but if you do hurt them, we could make rabbit stew. Actually, I wonder what rabbit tastes like. I’ve never had rabbit before.

>Kris: Wouldn’t you feel bad seeing the meat and wondering how it got there?

>Rachel: Don’t worry, my empathy turns off when it comes to filling my stomach! If it tastes good, it tastes good, and I don’t care how it got onto my plate as long as it got onto it at all!

>Kris: You’re wild. Oh, and good morning. Love you.

>Rachel: htrhtrshgrtweshtr I LOVE YOU TOO

Rachel immediately followed up her last text message with cute, lovey-dovey emoji and gif spam.

Kris replied with a single gif of his own featuring a chibi penguin petting the head of an even smaller, chibi penguin. He wasn’t sure what the big deal about it was, but he knew that Rachel was obsessed with those gifs and penguins in general.

With Rachel thoroughly replied to, it was time for the next of his morning messages from his girlfriends.

>Iris: Do not forget to get enough nutrition in your breakfast. I know that you have been better about not skipping meals, and I appreciate you putting forth the effort to improve your diet, but you need to make sure that you are getting enough, balanced nutrition. Fiber, protein, fat—are you getting enough of those? If you would like, I could prepare a nutrition guide for you as well as a collection of recipes for you to make. In fact, why not take it a step further? I could plan your entire week—month, no… I could plan your entire year out for you as far as food goes. Perhaps I will do that for a little project later today. Oh, and good morning.

>Kris: Morning. For your idea, uh… I don’t really like planning stuff like this out too much because it gets kind of boring that way when everything is planned, but I appreciate the thought.

>Iris: Hmm. That is an issue. I need to make sure that you are getting enough nutrition, but if you do not want it to be thoroughly planned from the start, then that complicates how to guarantee it.

>Kris: I might have an idea.

>Iris: Oh? Please, do share it with me.

>Kris: What if you like… make a set of cards, basically? Or a deck of cards. Whatever. Anyways, make a deck of “cards,” don’t have to literally be cards, and each card has a different meal plan for the day. That way there’s still a ton of different options, but what you get for the day is randomly picked to leave it a surprise.

>Iris: But what if you pick a card that requires ingredients you do not have on hand?

>Kris: Then I’ll go get them. It’s not a big deal. The store is only a few minutes away if I walk, and walking is good exercise. I get to eat healthy and exercise. It’s a win-win.

>Iris: Hmm. I cannot argue against your logic… though I cannot help but to feel this would not be an issue if I lived was there. Then, I could easily prepare everything for you before you even wake up. I could personally guarantee that your every meal is full of rounded nutrition to maximize your health. For the time being, however, I will prepare a “deck of cards” for you. Oh, and while we are on the topic of health, have you ever considered a fecal matter transplant? I read an article this morning about how incredibly beneficial those can be for your gut health if you do not already have a health bacteria biome in your gut, and you mentioned having stomach aches the other day. I believe a fecal matter transplant could prove beneficial to you. You should make a doctor’s appointment and ask them about it. Though, if you would rather, you could wait for our visit and then I will go to the doctor with you. I understand how doctors can be sometimes, and I have no issue making sure that I get my way with them. I would even be happy to handle the doctor for you.

>Kris: Isn’t that just a fancy word for a poop transplant? Don’t they like, make poop pills and stuff for gut issues? Also, you want to cook for me, buy groceries for me, and talk to the doctor for me. You sound like a mom, lol.

>Iris: I… I would not mind taking on such a role in your life. The more I do for you, the more dependent you become on me, and the more I get to do for you. Not that I demand you become dependent on me, nor do I wish to manipulate you into being dependent on me! It is just… you remind me of a cute dog, and I have always wanted to own a pet. Wait, perhaps that sounds wrong.

>Kris: woof?

>Iris: Oh.

>Iris: So, this is what it is like.

>Iris: I see.

>Kris: What?

>Iris: Nothing! Nothing. Nothing at all. Ahem. Please, do not mind me. Also, please go ‘woof’ for me more often. That aside, I should return to my duties, so please make sure that you get enough nutrition for breakfast! I love you.

>Kris: Love you too, woof.

Kris saw the message at the bottom of the chat showing that Iris was typing something, but nothing else ever came, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow. Since she didn’t say anything else, though, it was time to move onto the next message.

>Emily: If we weren’t dating then I probably would have thrown myself into the oven this morning. It was way too cold. Seriously, can’t the temperature just like, not, you know? What happened to climate change? Are you telling me all those species went extinct because the world got too hot just for me to feel like I’m freezing first thing in the morning?! If I’m going to freeze, those species need to come back to life! Humanity didn’t survive just so that we can freeze! I want a refund! Give me warmth or give me the reversal of mass extinction!

>Kris: I’d hug you if I could so that you could feel warm, but since I can’t, uh… take a hot shower?

>Emily: I’ve already taken four of those. Now I’m wearing a sweater over my uniform with a winter jacket on. I don’t understand how the others can live with this. They’re walking around like we’re not literally living inside of an ice cube right now. That’s what this mansion is. An ice cube. There are no walls here, only ice. No warmth, only cold. You are my only reason to live. Oh, wait. That gives me an idea. I think I know how I can warm up, and you get to help me!

>Kris: Yeah? Just tell me what you need. I’ll do whatever if it helps you.

>Emily: tell me you love me

>Kris: k. I love you.

>Emily: hehehehe, I feel all warm now. Alright, I don’t need this winter jacket anymore!

>Emily: nvm still need it

>Kris: I love you again?

>Emily: all warm again! Begone, jacket!

>Emily: i lied, still need it

>Kris: You’re funny.

>Emily: I’m not funny, I’m freezing. But I appreciate the praise. Just know that when we come to visit, if it’s cold there in the morning, I am not leaving the bed. You will be staying in it with me to be my personal heater until the temperature outside of the sheets becomes tolerable for my species, otherwise I might go extinct.

>Kris: Sounds good to me. Gives me a reason to be lazy and stay in bed, too.

>Emily: I’m glad we’re on the same page! Okay, I’ll leave you be now. Abby and Annie saw us smiling at our phones, so they know you’re going through your morning replies. I don’t want them to be left waiting. Have a nice day and talk to you later, Kris! Mwah!

>Kris: Mwah. Love you.

>Emily: Hehe, love you too! Mwah mwah!

Not wanting to leave the others waiting, Kris moved on to the message from Abigail.

>Abigail: I fear I have run out of morning poems to send you. I’m sorry. I hope you slept well and that you won’t be upset with me.

>Kris: Why would I be upset?

>Abigail: Because I have been sending you morning poems daily for months now. To have run out… I feel as if I am breaking our tradition. I’m sorry.

>Kris: I like talking to you, too. Getting anything from you in the morning is good. Even if you only say good morning, I’ll be happy with that.

>Abigail: But… tradition.

>Kris: Messaging me every morning is the real tradition. It’s okay to change what you message me with.

>Abigail: I… see. That is a fair point. So long as I continue messaging you every morning without fail, then the tradition will remain alive even if I have not included a poem with it! Thank you, Kris. I have felt horrible all morning, but you have instantly cheered me up and brought a smile to my face.

>Kris: you’re easy to cheer up lol.

>Abigail: How could I not be when you are the one doing the cheering?

>Kris: Dang, that’s smooth. I should try to be smooth sometimes.

>Abigail: You are always smooth! If anything, I believe I should try far harder to be smooth!

>Kris: Nah, I’m never smooth. All I do is compliment you and say I love you. That’s just treating you how you deserve to be treated, not being smooth.

>Abigail: You’re doing it on purpose now, aren’t you?

>Kris: Doing what?

>Abigail: I’ll get you back for this. For now, I love you. Talk to you later, you smooth talker.

>Kris: Love you too, you even smoother talker.

Kris was still confused about why he was being called smooth, but if his girlfriend was happy, he was happy.

And last but not least was the message from Anastasia. As always, the message was only a song, nothing more. This morning, the song was a relaxing piano piece that gave Kris the feeling of a warm morning, so it was probably something that needed sent to Emily more than him.

>Kris: I liked the song. I think Emily needs it though lol.

>Anastasia: Good morning, Kris.

>Kris: Morning. Sleep well?

>Anastasia: Yes, I did. Thank you. What of yourself?

>Kris: yeah, I slept fine.

>Anastasia: I am glad to hear it. I love you.

>Kris: I love you, too.

Now, Anastasia, despite Abigail being the deaf one, was easily the least talkative of the group. However, while she might not have been all that talkative, she still loved to engage with others. She wanted to spend time with Kris just as much as everybody else, but… she wasn’t good at actually talking. Finding the right thing to say to keep a conversation going was always difficult for her. That was why, rather than say anything else, she sent him a funny meme she saw of a cat wrapped up in a burrito with the word “purrito” on it.

>Kris: I don’t get it.

>Anastasia: It is a kitten. Cats purr. It is in a burrito. Purrito.

>Kris: oh lol. Okay, I get it. That’s funny.

Next came another meme which resulted in a reply from Kris.

Then another.

And another.

Every single time, Anastasia waited for him to comment on the last thing she sent before sending something else, and there was no way she would ever run out of various memes, pictures, videos, and songs to send him.

It was only when Kris remembered that he had a friend waiting on him at a restaurant that he figured he should stop looking at all of Anastasia’s media spam.