Cedreo
It started as a joke. Kris had downloaded a weird “shimeji” program — one of those digital desktop pets that walks around, climbs windows, and multiplies if you’re not careful. But instead of the usual anime girl or cat, this one was Ralsei . A tiny, pixel-soft version of him, no bigger than an icon, with a wobbling walk and a fluffy green hat that dragged just behind him.
Sometimes he’d trip over the Recycle Bin and fall asleep next to it, scarf bundled under his chin. Other times, he’d grab a stray browser tab and drag it to a new spot, rearranging the desktop like a cozy campsite. He never multiplied like normal shimejis — he said that would be “too many princes, probably chaotic.” shimeji ralsei
And he did. Every time Kris minimized a window, Shimeji Ralsei would appear in the corner with a tiny speech bubble: “You’re doing great.” “Take a break?” “Maybe save your document first.” It started as a joke
“So many dark truths…” he whispered, staring at an unsolved algebra worksheet. “Don’t worry. I’ll heal you with… with encouragement .” A tiny, pixel-soft version of him, no bigger