A pair of pale, slender feet clad in glossy black flats moved wearily along a moss-laced pavement. A low-pitched whine reverberated from the chest of the young woman trudging onward. Her plain white blouse was neatly tucked into tailored black dress pants, the fabric fluttering slightly with each step. On one hand, she furiously tapped away at her mobile phone—encased in something wholly out of place for a working professional.
The mismatch between her crisp corporate attire and the loud, unapologetic phone case did not go unnoticed. Curious stares and silent judgment followed her from passersby, some critical, others—mostly younger women—tinged with faint amusement or admiration.
You might ask: what sort of phone case could provoke such polarized responses?
Naturally, it was none other than a modern-day icon of the Japanese two-dimensional husband phenomenon—Gojo Satoru. Shirtless, with his signature blindfold missing and sultry blue eyes smoldering from beneath ink-worn plastic, he stared unapologetically from her phone cover, as if judging the world right back.
The bold young woman who bore such a flagrant display of fangirl devotion? Rina Park. A 22-year-old public servant, fresh out of university and already on her second job—with dreams of jumping ship again, just two weeks into her current role.
"I swear, if I didn't need this job right now… Damn laptop bag with its stupid charms…" Rina grumbled, adjusting the heavy strap on her shoulder. Her other arm balanced a weighty Michael Kors purse as she trudged through the dusky streets, the city lights flickering to life overhead.
The day's exhaustion clung to her like humidity. She had spent the entire shift at the local community center, dealing with entitled residents—most of them elderly—who wielded their tempers like cudgels. Ever since the recent announcement about government welfare vouchers, her days had been a barrage of shouting, suspicion, and complaints from individuals convinced they'd been short-changed.
Her KPIs, of course, were tied to customer service ratings and complaint counts.
"Open the door, Pa! Hurry, my arms are falling off!" Rina finally reached her apartment and banged on the front door, nearly collapsing against it.
"Coming, coming! Aiya, what happened to you today? You look so grumpy!" Her father—a cheerful man with a slight beer belly, dimples, and warm, smiling eyes—opened the door with practiced ease. He wordlessly reached for her laptop bag, having done it a dozen times before, and ushered her inside.
"Go shower first. I left dinner in the kitchen. I'll heat it up for you while you wash up," he said, guiding her toward the bathroom and placing her bags gently on her desk before disappearing into the kitchen.
Rina nodded, too tired to argue. The moment she entered the bathroom, she slumped onto the toilet seat, her stomach growling audibly. She unlocked her phone and opened her latest obsession: Cubtopia, a virtual pet-raising game.
A white loading screen appeared, featuring a Q-style golden retriever bounding across a loading bar. Soothing violin music played as her account loaded. On the home screen, a sulky-looking crimson snake cub—barely the size of a finger—awaited her attention.
Rina tapped it absentmindedly, then moved through her daily checklist: watering the cubs' garden, cleaning the potty pads, tidying the habitats, and giving each cub a little pet on the head. She dispatched her stronger cubs on expeditions, equipped with tiny healing items in their backpacks, and queued up a shorter task for her lower-level ones. With that done, she set the phone down on the counter and stepped into the shower.
Unseen behind her, the game screen flickered.
A shadow swept across the screen—barely perceptible—before everything abruptly turned black. A second later, it returned to normal.
Rina, her eyes closed as she washed away the day's grime, noticed nothing.
Sliding open the glass cubicle door, she reached for her towel and stepped out onto the slick bathroom floor—only for disaster to strike.
Her foot slipped.
Her eyes widened as her body tilted backward. She flailed, trying to grab something—anything—but missed. Her head struck the porcelain sink with a dull thud, and her phone clattered to the tiles beside her.
"Rina? Rina! What was that noise? Did you fall?" Her father's panicked voice rose from behind the locked door, fists pounding the wood.
Dazed, Rina blinked at her dimming phone screen.
Is this… the end? My transmigration moment? People get hit by Truck-kun and I get… Sink-kun? The absurdity of it almost made her laugh. Am I going to be isekai'd into Cubtopia now?
In her haze, she thought wistfully of her favorite 2D husbands. If only she could fall into one of those worlds instead—just to see them in real life, even if she'd probably act like a total creep.
Her thoughts flickered like dying embers as her eyelids grew heavier, the pounding on the door becoming distant.
Then—silence.
Her phone buzzed faintly.
Its screen flickered, then glowed white. A swirl appeared.
Locating… Found… Transferring...
Thin, curling wisps—like digital smoke—rose above her prone form. The edges of her body began to glitch and distort, like corrupted game data.
And then she was gone.
The apartment tilted subtly, as if the world itself had hiccupped.
Behind the door, her father stood in confusion. He stared at the wood in front of him.
"…Why was I knocking again? I live alone."
He scratched his head, shrugged, and wandered back to the living room, already forgetting why he'd been so alarmed.