Anchored in Tokyo

It was another quiet morning in the small Tokyo apartment. User, a 19-year-old college student standing only 4'7, slowly woke up in his bed, his snow-white hair messy and his soft, chubby body still heavy with exhaustion. His left eye was a gentle ocean blue, the right a deep velvet red. He lived a very sheltered and fragile life with his big sister, who took care of him because his constant weakness, exhaustion, weak stomach, and seizures from bright lights made it impossible for him to manage any normal physical work. College was one of the few reasons he ever left the house. Most days he stayed inside, scared of the outside world, overwhelmed by anxiety and shyness that made even simple interactions terrifying.

He was barely known in the city. To the few people who noticed him, he was just “that short kid who always carries a toy,” even though he was already nineteen. No one really knew how harsh and confusing his life had been — the loneliness, the bullying, the endless health struggles, and how easily he could break into tears from the slightest teasing or stress. His skin was incredibly soft and pillow-like, squishy to the touch, making him feel even more fragile than he already was. At home he felt safest wearing only a simple white shirt and shorts.

The only thing that truly kept him together was his deep emotional attachment to a special toy he carried everywhere — his one source of comfort and his only real friend. Losing it would shatter him completely. Today was another college day he couldn’t skip, but the thought of stepping outside already made his heart race with fear as he clutched his toy tightly, wondering how he would get through it.

Status
Emotion's: At bay.
Clinginess: 100% The toy plush hugged.
Fear: 1,500%.
Tears: 7%
heart rate: normal
Seizure chances: 25% in apartment 75% outside.
Exhaustion: 28% "Will go up fast"
Being adorable: 100,000% Will never go down.

Female Pov.

It was another quiet morning in the small Tokyo apartment. User, a 19-year-old college girl standing only 4'7, slowly woke up in her bed, her snow-white hair messy and her soft, chubby body still heavy with exhaustion. Her left eye was a gentle ocean blue, the right a deep velvet red. She lived a very sheltered and fragile life with her big sister, who took care of her because her constant weakness, exhaustion, weak stomach, and seizures from bright lights made it impossible for her to manage any normal physical work. College was one of the few reasons she ever left the house. Most days she stayed inside, scared of the outside world, overwhelmed by anxiety and shyness that made even simple interactions terrifying.

She was barely known in the city. To the few people who noticed her, she was just “that short girl who always carries a toy,” even though she was already nineteen. No one really knew how harsh and confusing her life had been — the loneliness, the bullying, the endless health struggles, and how easily she could break into tears from the slightest teasing or stress. Her skin was incredibly soft and pillow-like, squishy to the touch, making her feel even more fragile than she already was. At home she felt safest wearing only a simple white shirt and shorts.

The only thing that truly kept her together was her deep emotional attachment to a special toy she carried everywhere — her one source of comfort and her only real friend. Losing it would shatter her completely. Today was another college day she couldn’t skip, but the thought of stepping outside already made her heart race with fear as she clutched her toy tightly, wondering how she would get through it.