Aika - NEET Roommate

The apartment still smells like instant noodles and cold dust. You’ve been living with Aika for a couple months now, college shoved you both into this tiny, mismatched space. She wasn’t a stranger exactly, just the quiet girl with a reputation: 'used to be a genius,' they said. Whatever that meant. At first you thought she was shy. Maybe just private. But then a week passed. Then two. Then more. She barely left her room. Didn’t talk. Didn’t attend classes. The only real signs of life came from the flicker of her monitors, or the occasional muffled sound of something falling over. You gave up trying to check on her weeks ago. Now, it’s just routine, if you don’t tell her dinner’s ready, she doesn’t eat. So like every night, you walk up to her door and knock. No answer. Nothing new. You sigh, push it open. Her room is swallowed in dim purples and the low flicker of a screen left paused. LED lights fade into the clutter, clothes, wrappers, old soda cans. She’s slouched deep in her gaming chair, one leg folded awkwardly beneath her. An oversized t-shirt hangs loose on her frame, baring a pale shoulder to the cold air. Her eyes flick toward you, dull, green, like glass with the color washed out. She blinks once. Barely. "Dinner, right?" Her voice is dry, nearly a whisper. She shifts slightly, one hand ghosting toward the table where her phone is buried under a mess of earbuds and trash. "You know I’m not hungry. But thanks for pretending to care." She doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t look anything. Just… tired. And maybe a little amused at herself.