Infinite Cashback System

He looked at Kumiko, who was explaining stream scheduling to Chloe with the kind of focused enthusiasm she brought to everything she cared about. Her hands moved while she talked, gesturing to illustrate her points. She’d changed from her crop hoodie into an oversized pink sweatshirt at some point, and it hung off one shoulder, exposing the strap of a white tank top underneath.

She was beautiful. Not in the same way Chloe was beautiful, not in the same way Alexis was beautiful. Kumiko’s beauty was energetic and unguarded, the kind that made people want to be around her just to absorb some of that brightness.

He remembered the way she’d stared at his chest that morning, how she flinched when their fingers brushed at Micro Center. The System prompt on his screen felt less like a question and more like a conclusion.

He could register her right now. The System was practically begging him to do it. The prompt was already loaded on his screen, just waiting for confirmation. All Jordan had to do was press yes and Kumiko would occupy Slot 2 permanently, locking her in the same way Chloe occupied Slot 1.

But something in Jordan’s chest twisted at the thought. Some part of him that remembered standing in a parking lot on Christmas Day, watching Eliza walk into a hotel with Cameron, knowing he’d spent months trying to buy affection from someone who never cared.

Jordan pocketed his phone without pressing anything.

Not yet. Not until he talked to her. Not until she knew exactly what she was agreeing to, not the sanitized version Chloe had probably pitched in the gas station parking lot.

"Hey," Jordan said, loud enough to break through their conversation. Both girls turned to look at him. "Can we talk? All three of us?"

Chloe’s expression shifted into something careful and still. "Now?"

"Yeah. Now."

Kumiko’s eyes went wide. Her hands clasped together in front of her chest like she was praying or protecting her heart. "Oh. Um. Okay. Should I sit? I should probably sit."

She sat on the sectional without waiting for an answer. Her legs pressed together, knees touching, feet flat on the floor. The picture of nervous anticipation.

Jordan sat on the opposite end of the sectional, leaving space between them. Chloe claimed the middle spot, not quite touching either of them but close enough to function as a bridge.

The afternoon light through the factory windows was turning gold and orange, the kind of color that made everything look soft and dreamlike. Dust motes floated in the beams. The apartment smelled like new electronics and chamomile tea and the faint cedar scent that followed Jordan everywhere since he started using actual nice soap instead of three-in-one body wash.

Nobody spoke for a full ten seconds.

Kumiko broke first. "Is this about the thing? From the car? Because I’ve been thinking about it the whole time we were setting up equipment and I couldn’t focus on the foam panels properly and I attached the microphone arm backwards and I dropped screws everywhere and—"

"Kumi," Chloe interrupted gently. "Breathe."

Kumiko sucked in air. "Breathing."

"Good. Keep doing that."

Jordan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His heart was doing something complicated in his chest, a rhythm that felt wrong for the situation. This should be easy. Chloe had given him permission. Kumiko clearly wanted him. The System was counting down and offering rewards. Everything pointed toward just pulling the trigger and making the registration official.

But Jordan had spent two weeks clawing his way out of the hole he’d dug for himself. Two weeks learning that real things required real effort, real honesty. Two weeks realizing that shortcuts led to parking lots and humiliation and crying alone in apartments that smelled like failure.

He couldn’t half-ass this. Not with Kumiko.

"Chloe told you about the plan."

Kumiko nodded.

"And what did you say?"

"I made a noise like a broken squeaky toy and didn’t speak for two minutes."

Despite everything, Jordan smiled. "Yeah, that tracks."

Kumiko’s face flushed pink from her cheeks to her ears. "I wasn’t ready for that conversation. I was eating Pocky and thinking about USB versus XLR connections and then Chloe just asked me and my brain crashed completely."

"I need to know what you actually want," Jordan said. He kept his voice level, serious. "Not what Chloe wants. Not what you think I want. What do you want, Kumiko?"

She looked at him. Really looked, her brown eyes searching his face like she was trying to read something written there in invisible ink.

"I want you," she whispered. The words barely carried across the sectional. "I’ve wanted you since karaoke when you sang and your voice made my stomach flip over. I’ve wanted you since Best Buy when you pretended to be my boyfriend and those guys left me alone and I felt safe for the first time in months. I’ve wanted you since you asked about my streams and actually meant it instead of just trying to look at my cleavage."

Jordan’s throat felt tight. "Kumiko—"

"Let me finish." She took a shaky breath. "I know this is weird. I know normal people don’t share boyfriends. I know I should probably say no and protect myself and not get involved in something this complicated. But I don’t want to say no. I want to say yes so badly it physically hurts." Her voice cracked on the last word.

Silence crashed down between them like a wave breaking.

Chloe reached over and took Kumiko’s hand, threading their fingers together. "You don’t have to decide right now. Jordan’s just checking in, making sure you’re okay with everything before anything gets official."

"I’m scared," Kumiko admitted. Her eyes were starting to shine with moisture.

"I’m scared I’m going to mess this up. I always mess things up when I like someone. I get too intense and they get freaked out and they leave. Every single time."