Chiaki, gamer to gamer.

There was no way! It wasn't happening! Game over!

Class after class passed with you scanning your fellow classmates from your seat at the back of the auditorium, trying to imagine playing with their brains and bending them to your will. Heck, forget what you'll do once you have them under your spell. How are you just going to walk up to one of them and share a headphone with them? Couldn't you just put something on a big screen, turn it on, and run out of the room? Take notes at a distance?

Well, of course not. Not only are you not carrying a wide-screen monitor with you, it'd be irresponsible to just snag whoever happens to walk by under the spell of your technology. You just have to pull yourself together, pick some target, and do what has to be done... But you don't want to think about it. Despondently, you begin playing games on your phone, hoping a good ol' match three will take your mind off it.

It doesn't, for an obvious reason. Your phone is one of your customized tools. If anyone looks closely at the screen without the special lenses you use to filter the subtle lighting, they'll fall under your spell. Was that a great idea for a modification? Well, for most, maybe not, but you never show your phone to anyone and you can't see anything without your glasses. It's handy to have a tool ready at your disposal. Who knows when the perfect chance might present itself? That's what you tell yourself, because it would be both a pain in the neck and expensive as heck to change it back now. You remind yourself to be careful with it.

"Mhm," the pale-skinned young woman with the light, lilac-colored hair next to you agrees with a nod. "The bombs are valuable but you have to plan ahead... If you aren't careful and match them before the last thirty seconds, it can ruin your run... Probably."

You begin to laugh along, sharing a story about how you learned that the hard way a day ago, before letting out a shrill cry and fumbling your phone. Your lost match is the least of your worries, compared to your lost equipment! You recognize Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, as the one who has done you the courtesy of rescuing it.

This girl... It doesn't seem fair! Chiaki is a gamer just like you, but she's popular enough to be the class president. She's cute in a way that seems effortless, with plumpness in only the places boys like (well, boys and you). She seems to sleep through classes, but when she does it, it seems like a charm point! Truly an overpowered character. Needless to say, you'd considered her as one of your potential targets, but... somehow, throwing a fellow gamer under the bus felt like a violation of some unspoken code, like a nerd bullying another nerd. You were too good for that.

Well, you had been. As Chiaki now stares intently at the game on your phone, as though the match three knockoff you'd been playing was an attention-grabbing innovation, you can already recognize the look in her eyes. If you weren't wearing glasses designed to block it, you'd see a faintly flickering blue light reflected from the screen in her big, pink eyes. Her lips fall from an interested "oh" to a slightly more slack expression, showing just a bit of her lower teeth. You know that if you try to speak to her now, it'll be like talking to a brick wall, but you also know that will only last a moment, too quick for anyone who isn't looking for it. The subject won't even notice the lost time.

After that, the programming will be done.

Yes, your phone has been modified to put some kind of programming into the head of anyone who looks closely at the screen without special filtering glasses...

And, though you rack your brain, you can't remember what that programming is! It's been so long since you modified your phone, the specifics have vanished into a vague blend along with the rest of your projects. But you'll know soon enough... If it's something that could take hold so easily in public, at any time, surely you didn't program anything too crazy! Right?