At Akari's apartment, I sit at the dining table, eyeing the kitchen like it's the front line of a battlefield. Akari hums sweetly, chopping ingredients with the grace of someone who has never once feared for her taste buds. Meanwhile, I, a proud and dignified Time Warden, prepare to witness the monstrosity known as curry.
They say curiosity killed the cat, but jokes on them — I'm no cat. I'm a fully grown warden with questionable decisions. So, naturally, I pull out the deceitful rectangle of doom — my smartphone. The same cursed object that has tricked me countless times, yet here I am again, putting my fragile trust in it.
"Alright, you miserable digital goblin," I mumble, glaring at the screen. "Tell me what the hell curry is."
Search: What in the name of fried chicken heaven is curry?
Results flood the screen. And then it happens.
Stephen Curry - NBA Highlights.
Huh?
"What the hell is this?! I asked for food, not a basketball legend!"
I squint at the smartphone, as if it might change its mind. But no, it mocks me further. Stephen Curry three-pointers. Stephen Curry championships. Stephen Curry, smiling like he knows I'm suffering.
"Why are you showing me some guy who throws balls into circles?! I didn't ask for an athlete!" My frustration bubbles. "Or did I?"
But no. No, I must persevere. I refine my search, determined to outwit the devil's rectangle.
Search: Curry food, not basketball. The edible kind. Not made of athletes. Please.
Search: Curry that won't shoot three pointers on me.
Search: Dish called curry, not the man who ruined my day.
Finally, victory.
I see pictures. A thick, golden-brown concoction slathered over rice. And the description? A blend of spices. Coriander, cumin, turmeric, garam masala — wait, did I just summon an ancient spell?
"These aren't ingredients, these are incantations!" I hiss.
I glance over at Akari, still humming like she hasn't committed a culinary crime. She's even smiling. Is she proud? Oh god. She's proud.
"Well," I mutter, slumping in defeat. "This is it. My final meal. May the fried chicken gods bless my soul."
***
After what feels like an eternity, Akari approaches, holding a steaming bowl. I smell it before I see it. And to my horror, it smells... good. Like, really good.
"That can't be right," I mumble. "That's a tactical deception. It's using its aroma to lure me in!" I glare at the curry. "You won't trick me, foul beast."
"Here you go, Shiwei!" Akari chirps, placing the dish before me with the proud grin of a madwoman.
"W-What's in this?" My voice shakes.
"Oh, just some spices and love."
"Love? LOVE?! Love doesn't smell like this! Love smells like Gyudon and pastries!"
She giggles, clearly enjoying my suffering. My hands tremble as I scoop a spoonful, the thick sauce clinging to the rice like a sinister pact. I hesitate. My heart races. This is it.
I shove the spoon into my mouth.
And then.
A single tear rolls down my cheek.
"By the hands of time..."
The spices explode in my mouth. Warm, rich, bursting with flavors I can't comprehend. Every bite is like a symphony of chaos and joy. It's not just food. It's a damn portal to the gods! The heavens sing. The universe aligns. I see the meaning of life, and it's coated in curry!
"Shiwei! Are you crying?" Akari gasps.
"I—I'm not crying," I choke, shoveling another spoonful. "These are tears of enlightenment."
I devour the curry like a starved beast. Akari watches in both horror and amusement. Her pleas for me to slow down fall on deaf ears. There is no dignity here. Only curry.
"Akari! This is—this is a revelation! A masterpiece! A damn transcendence!"
She beams. "I'm glad you like it!"
"Like it? I'd die for it! I'd write an epic ballad for it! I'd build a shrine!" I dramatically clutch my chest. "Curry, despite looking like a monster's bathwater, may be the most delicious thing in the whole universe!"
And with that, I continue my glorious feast. If I die today, I will die with no regrets.
Long live the curry! Not the basketball player, I saw him got dunked on by a black guy on one of the highlights.
***
After consuming an ungodly amount of curry—five glorious plates to be exact—I slump back in my chair like a king who just conquered the dinner table. Victory has never tasted so delicious. My stomach, now rounder than it was an hour ago, sings songs of satisfaction. Truly, Akari's cooking is divine. If I die now, at least I'll be remembered as the man who met his end through curry-induced ecstasy.
But no. I must live on. For there is more food to eat.
But my peace is short-lived.
Akari hums cheerfully while washing the dishes, practically radiating the smug satisfaction of a chef who's just bested the impossible. Then, without warning, she turns to me with that mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Shiwei, since it's Saturday, do you have anything to do today?"
I blink. Something to do? As if I'd willingly volunteer to suffer? Of course not. My plan was flawless — roll back to my apartment, crash on the couch, and contemplate the next meal Akari would graciously bestow upon me.
"Nope," I reply proudly, crossing my arms. "Just gonna exist. Like a legend."
She giggles, wiping her hands dry. "Great! Then let's go shopping!"
My smile freezes. Shopping? With her?
The word alone sends shivers down my spine. What horrors lie in wait for a man dragged into the endless void of female consumerism?
There's only one way to find out.
I pull out my smartphone — the same conniving, deceitful device that has led me astray one too many times. Yet, against my better judgment, I press onward.
"Alright, you treacherous slab of circuits," I mutter. "Tell me what does shopping with this idiot means and what happens when a man goes shopping with a woman."
Search: What in the name of time does a girl do when she goes shopping?
"10 Signs She's Going to Drag You Into Every Store and You'll Pretend to Care"
"How to Survive a Shopping Spree Without Losing Your Soul"
"Why Boyfriends Age 20 Years During One Shopping Trip"
"Why shopping is like a never-ending side quest in a terrible RPG."
"Oh no," I mutter, scrolling in disbelief.
But I'm not done. I need more research.
Search: How to survive shopping with a girl without losing my existence?.
"Stay hydrated. Keep a positive attitude."
"Encourage her choices, even if it's the 100th outfit."
"Prepare to hold bags. Many, many bags."
My fingers tighten around the phone. What in the fried chicken heaven?!
But wait. I need more. The truth lurks somewhere deeper. I feel it.
Search: Girl shopping routine. Emergency guide. SOS. Not joking. Help.
"Brace yourself: They call it window shopping but nothing about it is free."
"Why She Will 'Just Look Around' and You Will Carry Bags."
"Five Hours Later: When They Say 'Just One More Store'"
The screen mocks me with every passing second. My soul is crying.
This is... alarming. My gut twists. But I'm a diligent man. A Time Warden. I can handle more truths, but...
"Wait, wait," I grumble, frowning. "What happens to the guys?"
Search: What happens to men who go shopping with girls?
My eyes widen.
"A waiting game from hell."
"The slow descent into madness."
"A tale of patience, despair, and countless fitting rooms."
"You will never be the same."
"Confirmed: Shopping with your girlfriend takes 40% of your lifespan."
"Studies Show: Men Lost in the Mall Have a 10% Chance of Escape"
"By the hands of time," I muttered, "This is scarier than when Barker chased me while delivering newspaper?!"
But wait. I need more. There's an even deeper truth. I just know it.
Search: Real experience of men who went shopping with girls and survived to tell the tale.
And then. The horror unfolds.
"Day 1: She said 'Just one store.' We visited seven."
"Day 3: I lost track of time. I think I saw my soul leave my body."
"Day 5: She asked if I was 'having fun.' I said yes. I am a liar."
"Day 10: Man lost for 7 hours in women's fashion section. Rescued by kind janitor. That man was me..."
The phone trembles in my hands. I stare in disbelief. So this is what awaits me?
My heart drops. Is this the true fate of men? A life spent holding purses and nodding at every outfit with a robotic smile?
"Dear gods of time," I whisper, my face paling. "This is a death march."
I look up from my phone, trembling. Akari's still smiling. Blissfully unaware of the horrors I've just uncovered. But I have no choice. I owe her. She's the one who fed me divine curry, and the least I can do is accept my doomed fate.
"Alright," I sigh dramatically. "I'll go."
"Yay!" she beams, completely oblivious to my internal suffering.
Back in my apartment, I strip down, ready to cleanse myself for the impending battle. The bathroom light flickers as I stand, victorious shampoo bottle in one hand and rebellious soap in the other. The war rages once more.
"You won't defeat me today, soap fiend!"
The slippery bastard attempts its daring escape, but I am faster. I wrestle it back into submission, emerging victorious yet again. My title as the Conqueror of Hygiene remains.
Dressed in what I consider the pinnacle of casual fashion—white shirt, dark jeans, and my signature charm. With one last glance at my reflection, I nod. "May time be on my side."
Now, it's time to face the mall... and my impending doom. I march next door. When Akari opens the door, I freeze.
She's... glowing.
"By the hands of time..." I whisper.
Her hair falls gently over her shoulders, her casual outfit fitting perfectly like some heavenly blessing. Did she always look like this? Is this some kind of enchantment?
Panic grips me. What is this strange sensation? My chest tightens. My palms sweat. I know what I must do.
Search: Why do girls look good sometimes?
"Relax. It's called attraction."
"You might be attracted to her, idiot."
Search: What happens when you see your idiot neighbor looking like a radiant goddess?
"Warning: You might be catching feelings."
"Increased heart rate. Sweaty palms. Dumb thoughts."
"You probably just think she's cute."
"She's cute, you idiot. Just say it."
"Oh, you deceitful phone. How dare you imply such a thing?"
But the phone remains firm. The results are unanimous.
"No," I whisper. "This must be a trick. A digital conspiracy."
But then I glance at Akari again. That radiant smile. That gentle gaze. Damn it. The phone might be right.
And so, with the courage of a thousand warriors, I puff up my chest, flash my brightest grin, and proudly give her a thumbs-up.
"Idiot girl! You're cute," I say, holding up a thumbs-up like a proud idiot.
Akari blinks. Then, her face flushes crimson.
"W-What?!"
"Thumbs up," I repeat solemnly. "That's a fact. Smartphone said so."
Akari covers her face, embarrassed, and I feel... accomplished.
But I know the truth. This shopping trip will be the greatest battle of my life.
And the smartphone?
It's still a bastard.
***
The moment we step out of the apartment, I can already sense it—the impending doom. Akari is beaming like she just won the lottery, but I know better. This is not a joyous occasion. This is a battlefield.
And the first battle? Commuting...
"Shiwei! We're taking the bus first!" Akari chirps.
The bus? A moving tin can filled with humans, sweat, and regrets? Fantastic.
We stand at the bus stop, and the waiting game begins. Five minutes pass. Then ten. Then thirty. The bus finally arrives, but it's already overflowing. People are hanging on for dear life, their faces squished against the glass like canned sardines.
"Is this even legal?" I mutter.
Akari, in her infinite optimism, suggests we wait for the next one. And the next one. And the one after that. It's a never-ending cycle of despair.
But then it gets worse.
The Train...
A monstrous, metallic serpent that devours people whole. We squeeze in, and I immediately regret all my life choices. Elbows jab at my sides. Someone's armpit makes a very personal acquaintance with my face. Akari is practically swallowed by the crowd.
"Hold on, idiot girl!" I yell dramatically, grabbing her wrist like we're in the climax of a tragic romance film.
"Shiwei, it's not that serious!" she laughs.
Not that serious? I just saved her from being compressed into a human pancake!
After what feels like a thousand years, we finally escape the mechanical beast, stumbling out of the station. I gasp for air, like a drowning man finally reaching the surface.
"We... survived," I wheeze.
But the worst is yet to come.
The Shopping Begins...
Akari drags me from store to store with the energy of a hyperactive squirrel. She picks up dresses, holds them against herself, then shakes her head and moves on to the next. It's a relentless cycle. I swear the fitting rooms multiply when I'm not looking.
"Shiwei, what do you think of this one?"
"It's... black."
"How about this?"
"It's also black."
"But it's a different shade of black!"
"...Sure."
Minutes turn into hours. My legs scream in agony. My soul is on the verge of escaping my body. I see other men around me, slouched on benches, their eyes hollow and lifeless. Our gazes meet, and in that moment, we understand each other. We are brothers in suffering.
"Stay strong, comrade," one man whispers as his girlfriend pulls him away.
Another pats my shoulder. "You'll make it. Probably."
We exchange numbers like war veterans sharing battle stories. They ask if I have a social media account. I say no. The horror on their faces is indescribable.
"Bro... are you living under a rock?"
"More like a boulder," I reply grimly.
Finally, Akari's endless spree ends. She clutches her bags triumphantly. "That was fun!"
Fun? Is this what fun looks like?! I've aged another millennia. This is more stressful than when I have to align the flow of time...
As we sit down for a much-needed break, I pull out the smartphone—the cursed yet necessary device. The glowing screen mocks me, but I must endure.
Search: How to share a public service announcement.
Search: How to warn mankind of inevitable doom.
Search: Shopping with girls survival tips.
The results are bleak. I see forums of men recounting their losses. Memes of empty wallets and broken spirits. And now, I must contribute. As a man who survived to tell the tale, I have a duty.
I begin typing furiously.
"To all men out there, if your girlfriend ever says 'Let's go shopping,' run. Just run. Save yourselves. I didn't listen. Now I'm a changed man. Godspeed."
I hit send.
Mission accomplished.
Akari beams at me. "What are you doing, Shiwei?"
"Oh, nothing. Just... spreading some wisdom."
And with that, I sit back, knowing I've done my part for humanity. You're welcome, world.
But it's still not over... We have to commute once more to get back home...
This is all your fault, smartphone... You should've given me something to do...