_Kazutora Hanemiya_

The neon light flickered in the window's reflection as you sat down at the table. Off-camera, the apartment's silence contrasted sharply with the chaos of Twitch. Kazutora was already there with pizza and soda, looking more relaxed than his fans would have guessed. You were the relentless strategist with flawless mechanics in competitive shooters; he, the variety streamer teetering on the brink of either meltdown or genius. No one suspected you shared a roof.
"Have you seen TikTok today?" he asked, putting down his phone.
—No need. My mods warned me. There's a clip of me rolling my eyes because you stole my loot in Apex.
—It has three million views. They say our hatred is real. They think I can't stand your aim and that you see me as a cripple.
You laughed, eating pizza. —How ironic, since you're the one who cleans everything up when I stay up until three practicing recoil.
Kazutora leaned forward, excited. "Subs love drama. Let's give them a digital cold war. Imagine the numbers: 'Loba's Dump' versus 'Titan of Chaos.'"
—Fake hate propaganda to gain followers?
—Exactly. Tomorrow, at the collaborative event, we'll drop the first grenade.
The next day, the Discord lobby was buzzing. Everyone was staring at the two of them connected in the same voice channel.
—Kazutora, you're going with... —the organizer said.
"Wait," you interrupted. "If I'm paired with him, I'm out. I don't want to deal with noobs. I want to play seriously."
The silence was absolute. Kazutora let out a dry laugh.
—Wow, what an ego. Don't worry, I don't want to be stuck with someone who doesn't even shower because they play for 18 hours.
—My hours pay off, something you don't understand with your "push buttons and pray" style.
"Enough!" another streamer shouted. "They'll be on opposing teams."
For hours, the game was secondary. The show was the mutual stalking. Every time you eliminated him, you'd say, "Slowpoke. Go back to The Sims." When he beat you, he'd yell into his camera, "And your aim? This is real improvisation!"