"Chat we are losing… we are losing badly… I think we are all going to die."
A boy about the age of seventeen said to his friends as he leaned toward the screen, his hand still on the keyboard while the game continued.
About four of them were focused on the same match, huddled at the school library computers as they streamed and battled other players.
"I think we might have an advantage…" another boy muttered, his fingers pressing faster against the keypad.
"We should wrap this up quickly and head back soon. It's almost time for our next lesson, and I'm not trying to get reported for using the library computers," a third boy cut in, glancing toward the entrance before looking back at the screen.
"Fuck that. Who's reporting us?" the fourth boy scoffed. "My dad literally funds this place. They'll report themselves before they report me."
"Guys… I need backup. We need to circle them so I can use my magic. We'll get an advantage if we do that," the second boy added, leaning in as his hand stayed on the controls. Then he raised his voice slightly without turning. "Jitsu, what's chat saying?"
Behind them, a fifth boy stood with a tray balanced in one hand and a towel resting over his arm.
The boy called Jitsu adjusted his glasses, nudging them back into place before taking a step closer, angling himself just enough to see the comments from the viewers without getting in the way.
"Fools…" he let out the first words he spotted without thinking.
The second boy snapped his gaze toward him. "Who the fuck are you calling a fool, Jitsu?"
Jitsu stiffened, his grip tightening slightly on the tray as his eyes dropped for a second before flicking back to the screen. "Chat… that's what chat said."
"Focus on your screen, you're killing us, Billy!" one of the others cut in.
Billy turned back to the screen with a tight jaw, his hand moving again over the controls. Not before sending Jitsu a look that made it clear he wasn't letting that go.
Jitsu, who had not met his gaze and was busy counting objects with his eyes while pinching his fingers together, asked without looking up. "Should I continue reading what chat says…"
No one responded. They were too busy and intensely playing, talking over each other as they gave orders on how to play better.
Jitsu paused, his fingers pressing together again as he stayed where he was.
He remembered the last time he had stood like this, saying nothing, and how they blamed him for it, saying they lost because he wasn't reading what chat was saying to motivate them.
Although he wasn't sure if they would want to hear what chat was saying now, especially since the first thing he saw was negative, he also knew what would happen if he stayed quiet again.
Not wanting to be dealt with like last time, he took a step closer to the screen and leaned in to read the comments once more.
His eyes moved quickly, trying to hold onto one line before it was replaced by another.
"They're saying… you're playing like bots…" he started, his voice low, unsure if he should continue.
The comments shifted again.
"They said… this is embarrassing to watch…"
Another line pushed up.
"They're asking why you're even streaming if you're this bad…"
He hesitated, his fingers pressing together once as his eyes caught the next message.
"They said… you're just rich kids wasting space…"
The chair creaked behind him.
"They said you're—"
"Shut the fuck up."
The shove came without warning, knocking into him hard enough to throw him off balance. The tray slipped from his hand as he went down with it, the metal hitting the floor with a sharp clatter as the towel slid off his arm.
"You think that's funny?" the boy snapped, pushing back from his chair. "You're making that shit up, aren't you? Saying what you've been thinking this whole time."
Jitsu stayed where he fell. He slowly brought his hand to the bridge of his nose to fix his glasses properly.
"I'm going to teach you…"
"Yo, we don't have time. Lock in," one of the others cut in without looking away from the screen.
But the boy didn't move, he just kept staring at Jitsu coldly. After a movement he moved back to his chair.
"Just wait till I'm done with this game," he muttered. "I'll deal with you properly."
"Left…no, don't go in…"
"Billy, focus!"
Their voices closed back in around the game.
After a moment, Jitsu pushed himself up from the ground. He steadied the tray with one hand, then lowered himself back down to pick what had fallen. One piece at a time, he placed them back into the tray, checking each before moving to the next.
When he reached the towel, he lifted it, shook it once to straighten it, and placed it back over his arm before picking up the tray again.
He stayed there for a second, his eyes shifting toward them and noticed they were still playing.
Jitsu decided since they were too immersed in it, that now was the perfect time for him to leave.
He placed the tray on a nearby table after picking everything back into it, then turned and took a step toward the door, keeping his head down as he moved.
"Fuck!!!"
He heard the boys yell, halting him.
"We freaking lost. We were so close."
They lamented in agony, their voices rising over each other.
Jitsu stayed where he was for a second, his fingers pressing together once.
They were nowhere close to winning, but he knew better than to say that out loud.
He started walking again, this time quicker, his steps closing the distance to the door. He cannot afford to be there or else he would be what they use to take out their anger.
But just as he was five more steps from exiting the room, he heard Billy speak, halting him immediately.
"And where the fuck do you think you are going?"