chapter fourteen: VANILLA MILKSHAKE
The train ride to Ebisu was oddly quiet, as Kenma sat beside Miruka in the tight space. They quietly whispered about a game they should get then play together later, occasionally showing each other screenshots of the gameplay. Once they were at their stop, the cheering and noise of the volleyball team began again.
He snook a glance at the girl's face when they arrived at the huge glowing arcade, already full of life even before lunch. She looked as if she was glowing, dark eyes sparkling at the machinery and games as they went inside.
"Oh Milk-sama," the captain called. "We've bought loads of tokens so you can play all the games. Go crazy."
A heavy satchel was dropped into Miruka's arms, Kenma's eyes widening at the amount he had given her. The setter made eye contact with his best friend, who sloppily winked at him and ruffled his half-blonde hair.
The girl gasped, tackling the older boy with a pout in thanks and pushing him away for her to squeal with delight. She thrust the bag into Kenma's face, making him flinch in shock. Her mouth formed into an odd line then to an elated grin.
"Kenma, Kenma, just look at how many tokens there are!" she exclaimed, opening up the satchel to show him. He rubbed the back of his head in surprise, never thinking Kuro would go this far. "I never knew that the bedhead was this generous ~ !"
Kuro scoffed in the background.
"I'm always this kind."
What felt like a wind brushed past everyone, not believing a single word in that sentence. A cold air settled down, Miruka breaking the mood with a snigger. Ending the scene, Miruka took Kenma's hand gently, his cheeks and ears reddening profusely while she tugged it harder.
"Come on, Kenma," she whined, furrowing her eyebrows. "I wanna go play with you! You may be good in video games, but I'm truly the ruler of the arcade. Just watch!" Miruka pulled him and he walked with her, still hand in hand.
He intertwined his fingers with hers, reciprocating the action. Kenma didn't notice the her jolt at his movement, but continued on with his neutral yet slightly flushed expression. His determination rose at a car game, her edging closer to the same one.
"Good taste," Miruka chuckled, squinting her eyes at him devilishly. "But you picked the wrong game to try and beat me at."
Kenma's amber eyes widened and softened, an odd spark of determination igniting in him. He sat into the black leather seat, Miruka into the white. With the push of a button and a token rolled in, the game started and the roar of the in-game car's engine boomed.
The countdown began, and they were off.
• • •
"Seventeen losses and seventeen wins," Miruka sighed, sipping on a vanilla milkshake she bought. "We really are evenly matched, don't you think?" The pair had played so many games they got tired, eventually getting some smacks.
Kenma nodded hesitantly, throwing his soda into a bin as they approached a Dance Dance Revolution machine. A crowd had gathered around, cheering and gasping in awe of the person currently dancing. They silently decided to check it out, jaws dropping at the quickness of the one in the middle.
"That guy's pretty cool," the girl mumbled, tugging at his sweater sleeve. "I've never seen anyone play it that fast . . ."
"Y - Yeah . . . " Kenma agreed, scratching his neck. He watched him get 'perfect' for every step, admiring his talent and wondering whether he could do it to. Of course, Kenma had played it on occasion, but he never got to this level.
In your dreams, he thought. You can barely speak to Miruka - how would you be able to play that in front of everyone.
Wait. What does she have to do with this?
He shook his head and continued to watch the him, around his age, pretty much demolish the game. People chattered around, talking about him with excited faces. The boy had so much confidence, Kenma telling himself that he'd never be that brave.
"Excuse me, I'd like to have a match with you please!" stated a high, all too familiar voice.
Are you kidding me?
The boy grinned at Miruka who had her arms crossed, excitement gracing her features. "Sure," he said, moving closer to her. "Whoever gains the highest points this gets two thousand yen!"
The blonde blanched, turning to face his friend. "Miruka-san, -!"
"Of course I can beat him," she scoffed, tying her hair into a short ponytail. "That two thousand yen's gonna be in our pockets faster than you can say Mario Kart! Oh, and I didn't bring my wallet so it's coming out of you if I lose."
Damn it, Miruka-san, he mentally groaned, face-palming himself. Why did you do this?
The tokens were rolled in and the game began, the players starting with the highest difficulty. A drop of cold sweat ran down Kenma's back, nervous in front of the huge crowd for an unknown reason. But somehow, her presence felt like he was fine - like she settled and grounded him when he was about to drift off into anxious panicking.
She was what connected him to reality and his mind for that split second. They looked into each other's eyes and she gave him that smile - the same one he got when they first met that made his heart quicken.
Her finger touched the screen and he inhaled sharply, the game beginning.
Something like a bolt of lightning shot through him, a question coming up to the surface. While the game began to load, he asked it to himself.
What does Miruka even mean to me?
"Ikuzo!"
• • •
It was extremely close, but - thank god - Miruka had won. She was a demon on DDR, which was apparently her best arcade game. The boy and herself exchanged an excited talk about each other's talent, instantly getting along.
"I'm Fujihara Mahoto," he introduces, bowing quickly. "It's great talking with you. Your name is . . . ?"
"Asano Miruka," the girl responds, finishing for him and making the DDR player laugh. "You can just call me Miruka if you want. But anyways, you're amazing at this game. I never thought I'd meet someone at my level today! You're actually quite - "
At this point, this was where pudding head stopped listening and that weird feeling he got when Lev carried Miruka resurfacing again. He felt like something was eating him up and he suddenly wanted them to just finish up the conversation.
It seemed as if he was far away, the more the conversed, just observing them from afar.
"Hey, do you wanna hang out?" he asks, the unfamiliar feeling in Kenma's throat and stomach eating away at him and urging him to stop the guy from talking altogether. "I know a great sushi place just a few blocks away!"
His confidence dropped the more he spoke, the unidentified envy growing inside Kenma. This guy was nicer, happier, more confident - completely different to himself. Someone he wanted but could never be.
The fact that he was already asking Miruka out in front of him without a stutter topped it all off.
But then, something snapped.
And the effect was surprising to all.
The blonde took Miruka's wrist abruptly, her face blushing profusely at his touch and Mahoto stopping all actions. His own face turned pink, but his sudden burst of confidence had still not faded. "We're actually out together," he said with a straight face, screaming on the inside. "Sorry for ending your plans, but we'll be leaving now."
This is happening, this is happening, this happening . . .
"Y - Y - Yeah," Miruka blubbered, nodding quickly and her held hand limp. "Nice, uh, talking to you!" They walked away fast, heading to a random place together. Mahoto waved goodbye obliviously, wondering where the couple were going.
Once they reached a row of claw machines, the peach head burst out with giggles, covering her face with the top of her hand. Kenma looked away again, focusing on some weird cat plushie inside a glass box.
"Odd," Miruka mused, rubbing her invisible moustache. The boy goes through his mind and attempts to figure out what she's thinking, failing miserably. "Very odd, Kenma. Appreciated nonetheless . . ."
He doesn't reply, only telling himself in his mind to get rid of the blush still present on his cheeks. His amber eyes make contact with hers and huffs, shying away.
"But I would prefer if you could hold my hand instead."
Suddenly, their fingers are intertwined and they both feel that spark of electricity running down their spines. But this is a happy emotion. Much better than the one he had when that guy was talking with her. Much better than the one just watching her laugh as she steps on the neon arrows, dancing without a care or spinning a fake car steering wheel determinedly.
She makes her way to another game, still hand in hand, clearly not wanting to separate. He watched that enchanting glint in her dark, hypnotising eyes that glowed and illuminated in front of the screens.
Her mouth opens and words come out, beckoning for him to try get out a prize from a claw machine. It's inaudible to him, who is focused on the way a small strand of her hair bounces when she talks.
They get one on the first try. The cat he was looking at and she hugs it, noting loudly that it reminds her of him.
Unconciously, they hold hands again and she leads him to another game, both knowing they would win it.
The moment never seemed to end.
And secretly, he couldn't have it any other way.
• • •
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OHOHOHOHOHOHO how are ya doin?
so i dropped a super long chapter for you and ended up murdering myself from the fluff at the end
go me
i'll spare you the time for reading this since we're around 1660 words now so here goes
I'VE RELEASED A RANT/LIFE BOOK CALLED 'THE COFFEE CHRONICLES' SO PLEASE CHECK IT OUT
WE HAVE ALSO MADE IT TO 1.8K AND 239 VOTES WHICH IS A DREAM TO ME
PLEASE COMMENT YOUR FEEDBACK AND VOTE PLEASE - IT WOULD MEAN A LOT
YOU'RE ACTUALLY SO WONDERFUL GUYS I'M SCREECHING
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO SO MUCH AND GOODBYE ILY ALL SO MUCH
- michaela