Sora-san's Dungeon Stream: The Expressionless Girl Is Actually a 38-Year-Old Salaryman - A Cornered Girl

Two days had passed since the stream ended. Souji sat hugging their knees in the dim room of Corpo Sakuradai. Outside the window, the autumn wind battered dead leaves against the asphalt. Rustle, rustle. That sound alone seemed unnaturally loud. The laptop screen sat dark, covered in dust. They couldn't bring themself to open it. That day, right after returning from the dungeon, they'd checked the notice from DeepCast. *"Verify your age within forty-eight hours. Failure to comply will result in a permanent ban."* The moment they saw it, something inside their head simply snapped. (*Checkmate.*) As a systems engineer, they'd debugged code thousands of times. Every bug had a cause, and every cause had a solution. But this was different. The fundamental premise itself was wrong. I'm a thirty-eight-year-old man. But this body, no matter how you look at it, is a teenage girl. Who would believe that? Should I go to a government office and say, "My body changed on its own"? Go to a hospital and explain, "Inside, I'm a middle-aged man"? A test subject. Without a doubt, that's what I'd become. My existence isn't registered anywhere in this society. I'm the same as an invisible person. No, worse. If I were invisible, at least no one would find me. I exist here, in the form of a "girl." I exist, yet I can't prove my existence. That contradiction pressed down, heavy and suffocating. The national news had turned me into a "missing girl." That man, Makimura, and his tearful press conference had spread to every corner of the internet. Veritas Children. A well-meaning organization advocating for child protection. They genuinely believed I was a "victim of exploitation." The comment sections were already hell. *"I knew she was being abused."* *"Poor thing. Who would do this to her..."* *"Sora-chan, where are you? We're coming to save you."* All of it, wrong. I wanted to say that. But there was no way I could. Their small fingers, scrolling the screen, trembled faintly. *"I hope they find her soon."* *"I'm so worried I can't sleep at night."* *"Let's all search for her."* Blades of kindness stabbed deep into their chest. No one was looking at me. Everyone was looking at a "poor little girl." That "girl" wasn't me. I wasn't there. I'd lived for thirty-eight years. As a member of society, as a systems engineer, I'd lived properly, or so I thought. And yet, now, no one knew the person that was me. Only Kanata-san was different. She had seen my "movements." She had seen through my "calculations." But that was different too. What she was seeing was a "talented streamer." That wasn't the real me either. The real me was just a tired, middle-aged man. What if I was found out? What if I took off this mask and said, "Actually, I'm a thirty-eight-year-old man"? ...What kind of face would she make? Just thinking about it made it hard to breathe. In the corner of the room, their smartphone vibrated. Buzz. Buzz. They looked at the screen. An email from a man named Gouda, from DeepCast management. The subject line was: *"Just who are you?"* *"Dear Sora-san,* *My name is Gouda, from DeepCast management.* *I'll be direct.* *Ordinarily, we would be obligated to follow regulations and permanently suspend your account.* *However, over these past two days, I have thoroughly analyzed your stream logs.* *The movement lines predicting monster spawn positions.* *The flawless, waste-free footwork.* *Combat actions based on probability calculations.* *These are not the movements of a child.* *Above all, I sense an exceptionally high intelligence from your actions.* *Just who are you?* *If you need help, if there are circumstances involved, I want you to tell me.* *More than the rules, I want to know the truth first.* *Gouda"* Souji read the email over and over. (*Is this person... different?*) Different from Makimura. Different from the viewers. This man, Gouda, hadn't noticed a "poor little girl." He'd noticed the "abnormality" of the stream. Maybe. Maybe if I talked to him, he'd understand. But. (*...No.*) The grey eyes staring at the screen slowly dimmed. If I talk, it's over. There's no way anyone would believe a story like this. And even if they did, what happens next? A research facility? A sideshow attraction? In the end, I'd be treated as a "thing." They hated that. Someone was finally reaching out a hand to them. And yet, they couldn't even take that hand. Their small fingers couldn't press the reply button on the screen. A distance of a few millimeters felt like kilometers. In the end, they couldn't write a reply. They placed the smartphone face down. It made a small *clack*. Outside, it was already pitch black. They were hungry. There was nothing in the refrigerator. The last time they'd gone shopping was over three days ago. (*I have to go to the convenience store.*) But their legs wouldn't move. If they went outside, someone might see them. If they walked around wearing the same white half-mask from their streams, they'd stand out even more. But if they walked outside with this face, they'd be reported for sure this time. There was nowhere to run. The inside of this room was their entire world. A worn-out, six-tatami-mat one-room apartment. This was their prison. A transparent prison, cut off from society, unrecognized by anyone, just waiting quietly to die. That's when it happened. Buzz. The smartphone vibrated once more. This time, it wasn't an email. A DM notification from DeepCast. Sender: Kanata. *"Sora-kun.* *I can't even imagine how you're feeling right now.* *But there's just one thing I want you to hear.* *Whoever you are, I'm on your side.* *The first time I saw your stream, I got goosebumps.* *No one can imitate movements like that.* *That's a talent that belongs to you alone.* *I'm watching your streams. Properly.* *More than anyone.* *So, Sora-kun.* *Let's stream together again, okay?* *Kanata"* Souji read those words over, and over, and over. (*This person...*) A warmth spread deep in their chest. She didn't say "you poor thing." She didn't say "it's abuse." She didn't say "verify your age" or "tell the truth." She just said, "Let's stream together." That alone pierced their heart more deeply than anyone else's words. Because it was Kanata-san, and no one else. Because she was the only person who had found their "calculations." Only her words were warm. But. (*...I...*) Their small lips trembled faintly. Expressionless, their grey eyes grew moist. (*I can't tell this person the truth.*) The moment they thought that, the warmth in their chest turned to cold stone. To live up to her trust, they would have to remain "Sora" forever. But the more they did that, the more the real them would disappear. The more Kanata-san believed in them, the more of a liar they would become. This contradiction would never be resolved. Souji clenched their fist tightly. Inside their small hand, their nails bit into their palm. It hurt. But that pain was the only thing that made them feel "alive" right now. Their gaze fell back to the smartphone screen. Kanata's DM was still open. *"Let's stream together again, okay?"* Those words echoed inside their head. (*Because it's efficient.*) They tried to think that. Kanata-san's support was certainly rational. With her analytical skills, they could gather materials even more efficiently. But. That wasn't it. Her words reached a part of them that had nothing to do with "efficiency." She had seen their "talent." She had acknowledged their "tactics." And she had said, "Let's do it together." More than anything, they wanted to answer those words. With trembling fingers, Souji began to type a reply. *"Kanata-san.* *I have circumstances I can't tell anyone.* *I can't do the age verification.* *Even so, if you still say it's okay.* *I want to stream again."* Sent. It had taken them many minutes just to write those few sentences. This was the best they could do right now. A reply came immediately. *" Yeah. That's fine.* *You can tell me about your circumstances when you feel like talking.* *I just... like your streams, Sora-kun.* *That's all it is.* *So, let's stream again tomorrow.* *This time, I'll be properly supporting you from behind the scenes, okay?"* Souji gripped the smartphone with both hands. (*Kanata-san.*) The stone deep in their chest warmed, just a little, once more. It was a heat accompanied by pain, but even so, it was better than the cold. The room was still dark. The empty refrigerator, the old walls, nothing had changed. But now, this small smartphone screen was the brightest thing in the room. Through a gap in the curtains, morning sunlight was beginning to stream in. Before they knew it, night had apparently broken. Souji stood up. As they stretched their small body, their joints popped and cracked. Nothing was resolved yet. The age verification, money, family registry—everything was still checkmate. But. (*Just a little longer.*) With Kanata-san, maybe they could keep living here, just a little longer. That's what they thought. Souji opened their laptop for the first time in a long while. They dusted it off and checked their streaming equipment. The white half-mask. The Muse Link. The black cape. Everything was there. (*Let's do this efficiently.*) That way of thinking felt, just now, a little bit reassuring.

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Episode 5

Name: Sora-san's Dungeon Stream: The Expressionless Girl Is Actually a 38-Year-Old Salaryman
Author: Novelia

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