The sweet, clingy smell of caramelized sugar and espresso still hung faintly in the air as the group lingered after lunch.
Ren leaned back, pulling his phone from his pocket, the screen brightening in his hand.
"We still have a couple of hours," he announced, the digital clock confirming they had time before the 3:30 PM movie slot. "Arcade?"
Daiki, already buzzing with post-meal energy, grinned wide. "Obviously. Time to dominate the leaderboard."
"Just don't cry when I beat your high score," Akari teased, a low, quiet confidence in her voice.
She cracked her knuckles, the slight, dry sound almost swallowed by the ambient restaurant chatter.
Hina's shoulders shook with a soft, genuine laugh that seemed lighter than it had in days.
"This should be fun to watch."
The shift in atmosphere was immediate and electric.
Stepping into the arcade was like walking into a strobe-lit dimension: a brilliant, chaotic wash of neon blues, fuchsia, and electric yellows.
The air was thick and loud, a mix of sticky-sweet popcorn, the metallic tang of old circuitry, the endless THWACK-CHING of pinball paddles, and the triumphant, synthesized shouts of retro games.
The heavy scent of ozone from the machines was almost palpable.
Here, the awkward uncertainty from lunch dissolved entirely. They were just teens set loose.
They started with a four-player rhythm game showdown—Ren and Akari against Hina and Daiki. Daiki, all flailing limbs and misplaced confidence, completely butchered the song.
Ren's deep, unrestrained chuckle echoed as Daiki collapsed dramatically against the console. But then, Akari took the stage. Her focused expression was sharp, her movements precise. She didn't smile, barely moved her head, but her fingers were a blur of perfect timing.
The machine blared a triumphant melody, crowning her with the top spot.
She's actually amazing at this, Ren thought, watching her name, AKARI, flash across the screen.
He caught her eye. "Are you a secret arcade queen or something?"
She smirked—a faint upward pull of her lips that made his chest tighten inexplicably. "Not a secret anymore."
He laughed, a little longer and louder than necessary, the sound catching slightly in his throat.
Akari, who played it so cool, felt a strange, internal warmth spread, and the very tips of her ears warmed. She quickly turned back to the game to hide it.
Next were the racing sims. Akari, again, was ruthlessly good. She leaned back in the molded plastic seat, one hand casually resting beneath her chin like she was waiting for a bus, while the other smoothly navigated the digital track.
She smoked them all. Ren, the competitive heat rising in his neck, demanded an immediate rematch—and lost again, a frustrated groan escaping him.
Meanwhile, Hina stood beside them, her hands clapped together, her soft, clear cheers spurring them on.
Daiki, though, finally got his redemption at the basketball toss. The rhythmic THUMP-THWACK of the ball against the glass backboard became his personal soundtrack. He hit an almost ridiculous, unwavering streak of shots.
"Give me a real challenge next time," he crowed, catching the last ball and spinning it expertly on his finger like a true show-off.
"You've watched too many sports anime, idiot," Hina teased, nudging him.
Affectionately with her shoulder. Her smile felt entirely genuine.
The final, chaotic round was air hockey—Daiki vs. Ren. It turned into an all-out, slap-shot war.
The puck zipped across the slick surface with a high, irritating buzz. The girls stood on either side, their shouts of encouragement and boos making it feel like a championship final.
Ren finally slammed the puck past Daiki's defense, winning by a single, exhilarating point.
He threw his arms up, adrenaline pumping, roaring like he'd just conquered the world.
The arcade's intensity was abruptly replaced by the cool, late-afternoon air. It was 3:20 PM.
They made it to the movie theater with a frantic minute to spare, the scent of buttered popcorn hitting them in a heavy wave.
They slid into their seats in the corner: Daiki on the far end, then Hina, Ren, and Akari.
The horror film—a notorious one known for its psychological dread and sudden, brutal jump scares—began.
The screen lit up, washing the small audience in a flickering blue light. For a few tense minutes, the story crawled. Shadows stretched.
The music built a low, vibrating dread in the floorboards. The theater air felt unnaturally cold.
Then it happened.
A razor-sharp, piercing scream ripped through the silence, making the entire audience jump. On screen, a door violently slammed shut.
A figure lunged into view.
Both Hina and Akari gasped—a startled, collective sound—and instinctively reached out, their hands snatching onto the only anchor available: Ren. Hina gripped his hand from the left; Akari from the right.
Ren didn't flinch at the ghost on screen. But the sudden, unexpected sensation of two hands securely holding his? That shock was immediate and physical.
His heart didn't just pound; it raced, a frantic, uneven rhythm against his ribs. It wasn't the ghosts, but the fact that two girls, at that moment, both held a piece of him.
Hina's touch felt familiar, like a comfortable path leading to a past he couldn't quite remember. Akari's was new—warm, quietly steady, and surprisingly firm.
Hina realized her action first.
The panic dissolved into instant, hot embarrassment. She quickly let go, pulling her hand away and shifting slightly, fixing her eyes on the screen, pretending the terrifying scene demanded her full, unblinking attention.
But Akari… didn't let go.
Her hand stayed exactly where it was, wrapped around Ren's—soft yet sure.
Her fingers fit into the spaces between his with a natural ease that felt utterly right.
Her own pulse quickened, not from the movie's terrors, but from the realization that this simple contact felt terrifyingly good.
Why am I not letting go? she wondered, an internal scream swallowed by the soundtrack.
This is dumb. This is so dumb. Let go, Akari.
When she finally did, it was gentle. The release felt almost reluctant, her thumb brushing faintly across his palm before retreating.
Ren didn't dare move his hand, the ghost of her warmth lingering.
The movie ended in a blur: final screams, a dramatic escape, and one last horrifying twist.
The theater lights flickered back on, revealing a row of shaken faces—all except for Daiki, who looked completely unbothered.
"You're a psychopath," Ren muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Daiki smirked, stretching his arms high above his head. "Just emotionally stable, thank you."
They stepped out into the cool evening air. The sky was an impossible canvas, painted in broad, dramatic strokes of purple, deep indigo, and burnt orange. The horror buzz was still fresh, but the social tension had subtly shifted—less heavy than before, but infinitely more complicated.
Daiki clapped his hands together, yawning wide. "Alright, folks, I gotta run some errands. Later, weirdos."
"Bye, Daiki!" Akari called, offering a genuine wave. Hina gave a quieter, polite nod.
And then it was three.
Ren turned his head toward Hina. "Want me to walk you home?"
She hesitated for a beat too long, her gaze skimming the ground near her feet.
"It's okay. I'll be fine on my own. Thanks, though, Ren."
She offered a smile—soft, almost mournful, and too polite. Ren saw something in her eyes: hesitation, maybe a flicker of guilt, or perhaps she was just trying to create a clear, defined space, refusing to interrupt the current building between him and Akari.
Ren didn't press her. "Alright. Be safe."
He turned to Akari, the simple action feeling significant. "Let's go. I'll walk you back."
Akari's breath hitched in her throat. Just us.
"Sure," she managed, amazed that her voice came out steady even as her pulse spiked into an erratic tattoo against her neck.
The streets were quieter now, the rush of the day settling into a peaceful hum. They talked easily about the movie: how Akari hadn't screamed once, and how Ren definitely had—though he indignantly denied it every time.
Akari giggled—a genuine, musical sound that made Ren turn his head toward her. "You totally screamed when the ghost popped out of the fridge."
Ren narrowed his eyes playfully. "That fridge thing was unexpected, okay? No one expects the fridge."
She smiled, a tiny, genuine flash, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Still. You were cute."
Ren blinked. The simple word, delivered so casually, hit him with the force of a punch.
The air between them instantly shifted—it didn't feel lighter, it felt warmer. A flush of heat spread across his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the taillights of a passing car.
Akari, on the other hand, was internally screaming, the sound echoing in the silence of her mind.
Why did I say that? Cute? Really, Akari? You are a genius.
She bit her lip, glancing sidelong at Ren. He hadn't said a word in response. But his hands had disappeared into his pockets again—that subtle, telling gesture he made when he got nervous.
Her heart wouldn't slow down.
They walked in silence for a few more moments, the space between them not empty, but charged. Every slight brush of their shoulders. Every stolen glance. Every word they had abruptly swallowed.
By the time they reached her home, the sky had deepened into a rich, velvety orange, bordering on night. The moment felt perfectly still—a beautiful, tense pause before an inevitable change.
"Thanks for today," she whispered.
"Same. It was… fun. Really fun."
Her fingers played nervously with the hem of her sleeve. "See you soon?"
"Yeah. See you."
She hesitated before turning, then walked inside and gently closed the door behind her, the latch clicking quietly into place. She leaned against the cool wood for a moment, pressing her palm flat against her chest.
Her heart was still racing, vibrating with a confusing mix of fear and elation.
Meanwhile, Ren stood outside for a second longer than was necessary, staring up at the darkening, beautiful sky.
The laughter, the chaos of the arcade, the electric scare in the theater—all replayed in his head. But one thought, immediate and heavy, lingered longer than the rest.
"Did Hina make it back safely?"
WHAT HE WILL DO NOW?