Somehow there’s this misconception that people with no friends are also the kinds of people who hate stuff like crowds, going outside, happiness, being productive, and all else that a normal human being can deal with.W

    I digress.

    Just because I have no friends doesn't mean I don’t like going outside and you know why? Because I've learned from experience of myself and others, that just because an anime figure looks like the best shit ever in pictures and online doesn't mean it’s gonna be like that in real life. Anytime possible, you gotta check that stuff out yourself before dropping 100+ bucks on one of them.

    ...What, don’t look at me like that. I spend my own money on figures, okay? I’m not that terrible of a child to spend my parent’s hard-earned money on animu crap.

    The point is, just because I kind of hate human interaction doesn't mean I’m going to become a NEET sitting inside my room playing games all day and irresponsibly spending my money on figures that might not even look all that good outside the computer screen.

    “...He’s not gonna wake up.”

    “Not soon, anyway.”

    “Should we look through his bag for loots?”

    “Hell yeah!”

    And that’s why I was frankly kind of offended when I got kidnapped on my way to a local meetup and woke up in some bed in a room, both of which clearly were not mine. Actually I couldn't even tell if it was a proper bed because from what I could tell on my initial inspection of the situation was that this thing was more like a bunch of feathers or something gathered into a pile with some blankets over it. Lame.

    But come on now, just because I fit two out of three of the “otaku, has no friends, hates the sunlight” stereotype doesn't mean you can just kidnap me thinking that I’d rather be held for ransom than to do whatever else. If you really wanted a victim who wouldn't resist because they have nobody who cares for them and would rather be shut in a cellar than go outside, be thorough in your creepy kidnapper background research and actually pick someone who fits all three categories.

    So anyway, as far as I could tell when I discreetly rolled over on the not-bed was that there were two people in the room, and by the looks of how these assholes were daring to go through my bag of artbooks and figures they were probably not other kidnapping victims, and even if they were I needed to immediately kick their asses for going through other people’s property without permission.

    I managed to roll off the bed and grab the nearest heavy thing that looked like it could knock someone unconscious, a book written in letters I couldn't read, without making any sounds or yelling something about their moms that would get their attention. It was hard, let me tell you.

    Using the skill of walking quietly that I’d mastered in my elementary school years to sneak into the living room at night and use the computer, I held my breath and gradually raised the heavy book with each step to the point where I thought gravity would do its job well. Because that’s clearly why gravity exists. To hit kidnappers with heavy books--

    Shhing.

    “Woah there friend,”

    Shhiiing.

    “You might need to slow down.”

    --Or not, since the said kidnappers now had both pulled out each other’s knife and also made a reference to a particularly disturbing YouTube video series, the latter of which clearly was not a good sign.

    “...Okay,” I responded, and moved my arms to let go of the book so it wouldn’t hit anyone in the process.

    For a second both of them didn’t put their knives away, momentarily making myself regret the fact that I thought they’d be stupid enough to drop their weapons if I dropped mine. Yeah, right, there’s no way I, the weak-ass nerd, was taking on two people once, especially when both of them have a knife and I didn’t, and somehow that was the time I actually started panicking about my situation, god I was so stupid--

    Then the one with dark hair held up one of the artbooks in my bag and asked, “I like your taste in art, but do you know if the artist has an illust compilation where the characters have more tits and less clothes?”

    The blond one held up a boxed figure and said, “I really like how they sculpted the grenades here but I feel like the explosion effects could've been made better, don’t you think?”

    “Yeah,” is what I responded with, like the smart person I am.

    “Do you prefer green or black tea?”

    I have no idea if a chat and getting to know each other over tea and snacks is part of the standard procedure when you end up a place with two people who pulled a knife on you, but that’s what was going on.

    “Black,” I responded, shifting around uncomfortably on a chair.

    “Cool. We’ll have the food ready in a couple minutes.”

    As the two people walked away towards the kitchen section of the house(?), I noticed for the first time what they looked like. From what I could estimate, these two couldn't be older than myself. So like...high school students. Who knows why they’re doing this.

    The dark haired girl, who looked more threatening in my opinion wore an unusually fastened white shirt with kind of expensive looking golden belt, and had a one-side up hairstyle, although I didn't notice it at first. One side of her side hair was longer than the other for some reason, and she wore another expensive looking gold hair jewelry on it. Her eyes were the same color as the gold jewelries she had on, and it was kind of disturbing how bright they were.

    The blond guy with glasses, who looked less outright intimidating and was all smiles (but nevertheless had a knife), wore a similarly fastened shirt minus the belt in dark gunmetal gray. He also wore a simple marble-like pendant around his neck. The color was ridiculously bright cyan, just like this eyes. Despite his friendly expression, when the the sun reflected on his glasses, I swear he looked just as intimidating as his friend (I’d guess she’s a friend).

    “...Nice place you have,” I said, attempting to break the tension.

    And well, they did have a nice place, if a bit unusual. The walls weren't perfectly flat and square with corners like most houses, but instead was rounded everywhere and even the ceiling was more like a dome. Even the doors and windows were irregular and non-angular in shape. And in place of doors they just had strange translucent curtains. I could think of a million ways that can cause issues with privacies and stuff, but decided not to mention it.

    “It’s not really ours, but thanks!” responded the blond guy, bringing a platter with a pot and three cups to the table. “You should've seen how this place was when we just moved in. Had to get adults to help us with decorating, but heh, look at it now.”

    “Okay,” I answered, and waited while the guy poured the tea to the cups. “...Are your parents home?”

    The dark haired girl walked in with some cookies in a bowl. “Parents? Nah, of course they’re not here. They don’t even live with us. Can’t.”

    “Oh.”

    I wasn't going to ask why a pair of high school aged guy and girl was living together, and apparently for quite a while too, apparently. I mean there must be a good explanation. Like why I can’t read any of the letters on anything in the house, including posters, books, and food labels, despite the fact these people apparently speak English and I've just seen them read stuff off the same labels I couldn't read, and not the kind of stuff that people can just translate on the spot from another language either-- something something complicated chemical-ide and whatnot. Yep. Perfectly logical explanation exists for that, I’m sure.

    “Hey. Aren't you gonna eat anything? You were passed out for several hours, you know.”

    I obeyed the implied command and took a bite of a cookie along with a gulp of tea, never mind the possibility at least one of the stuff was poisoned or had laxatives to knock me out again. But you know what, they were both fucking delicious.

    “...So, why am I here?” I asked, which was the first full sentence I’d said since waking up.

    The dark haired girl glanced at the blond guy. “Oh right, we didn't explain, did we.”

    “No. I guess now’s a good time as any?” he responded, looking at me.

    “Yeah,” she said, adjusting her glance at me now.

    Having both of their creepily bright eyes stare at me really was something. Also I didn’t know which one to look back at. Should I alternate between making eye contact with both of them or?

    “Long story short, we saved your life,” the dark haired girl said.

    “What?”

    “Saved your life. You’re welcome.”

    I stared off into space, trying to figure out whether “save” is a code word or slang for something else.

    “By saving, do you mean kidnapping?” I blurted out in a feat of idiotic courage.

    The two of them were now looking at me like I was crazy.

    “I mean...Okay, let me explain, I was just going to a local meetup in my city but the next thing I know I wake up in a strange room with people I've never seen before looking through my stuff and the first thing you two did when you saw me awake was to shove a knife at me and alsoalsoaslo how can I be sure that this stuff I just ate doesn't have poison or laxatives or anything!”

    “You said all that in one breath! That’s amazing!” said the guy, smiling and clapping.

    I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

    “If we wanted to give you poison or laxatives we would've done that while you were still unconscious, you know,” said the girl. “And like...I don’t see why we’d want to kidnap you unless it’s to hold you for ransom, but that wouldn't really work because we don’t know the contacts of your family or anything.”

    “...So you would have made this into a kidnapping situation if you knew my parent’s contacts.”

    “I guess, but I can’t hold you for ransom now so it doesn't matter,” she responded nonchalantly.

    “But you would have.”

    “Yeah, but I can’t so I won’t and it doesn't matter. It’s not difficult to understand.”

    I kneaded my forehead with my hands and groaned.

    “Let’s put it this way: Do I have a reason to see you two as threats?”

    “Not unless you try to hurt us!” the dude piped in. “Like you did back there with the book but I’m sure you won’t do that now, right?”

    Actually, now I kind of want to do that more than ever, I thought, but okay.

        “And by hurt, we mean physically and financially so if you destroy our property and such so that we have to pay to repair or replace it, that’s included, too,” said the dark haired girl.

    “...Big talk coming from people who were looking through my stuff,” I said.

    “I did say you had a good taste in art and trust me, as an artist myself I’d never damage artbooks so you didn't have to worry.”

    Never mind the fact I didn't know they wouldn't damage my precious artbooks and figures when I first saw them doing it, right?

    “Anyway, back on topic, if you guys didn't kidnap me, then explain what the hell happened,” I said, somehow less scared of these two now.

    “It’s just like what she said! We--”

    “--and no “long story short” or bullshit like that.”

    “Aw.”