Chapter 9: Beautiful Girl Plays at the Arcade

We arrived at the arcade in front of the station.

Sitting on the back of Ryoji’s bike, I’d spent the whole ride reflecting deeply on my life choices.

I’ve thought about it countless times over the past three days, but the truth is this: my body might be that of a girl now, yet my mind is still that of a boy.

Now picture this—
a boy sitting on the back of another boy’s bike, clinging tightly to him.

That image flashed through my mind as I held on to Ryoji from behind. The instant it did, I regretted everything. Honestly, it was gross.

Ryoji didn’t seem bothered, though, so maybe I should just keep quiet. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?
…Wait. What if he was acting weird because I was holding on to him?

Should I apologize? No, that’d make it even more awkward. Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened.

Once I hopped off, Ryoji parked his bike at the rack in front of the arcade.

I’d thought riding on the back would be more comfortable, but I was tense the entire time. I’m exhausted.
Ryoji, meanwhile, looked completely fine—if anything, like a man who’d just conquered a great challenge.

Maybe it was because we rode double, but we were definitely drawing a few stares from pedestrians. It was... awkward.

"Ryoji, stop spacing out. Let’s go inside already."

"Ah, yeah, right. But if I move, I’ll lose the warmth still lingering on my back."

That’s exactly the kind of thing you should forget, dude.

Maybe I’ll walk home later.

We stepped into the arcade.

It was still early, so there weren’t many people around. The place was practically empty.

"Nice, it’s empty. So, Ayumu, what do you wanna play?"

"Hmm... maybe a racing game?"

"Good call. Loser buys a drink."

"Ehh?! There’s no way I can beat you! I’m terrible at those!"

I came to arcades a lot, but the sad truth was—I wasn’t actually good at anything.

Fighting games? I couldn’t even remember the combos. Every time I tried to practice, I’d drop in a hundred yen and immediately—“New Challenger!”—some pro would swoop in and destroy me. I never touched them again after that.

Crane games? Obviously rigged.

Medal games? Always surrounded by old folks, so I stayed away.

I’d tried them all and failed at all of them.

Still, I liked arcades. Maybe it was the atmosphere... or maybe I just enjoyed goofing around with Ryoji.

"Well, if you don’t wanna buy me a drink, how about a hug instead?"

"Huh? You’d be fine with that?"

"You’d really do it? I could become a god of this arcade today!"

Between breaking bike records and ascending to godhood, Ryoji was clearly transcending humanity today.

Thinking rationally, buying a drink would be way easier. Besides, I’m still a guy on the inside—hugging him would just be weird.

Sorry to ruin your fun, but if I lose, I’ll just buy the juice.

And then, a miracle happened.

At first, it was neck and neck. We were fighting for first and second place, but then I missed a corner, letting not only Ryoji but even the CPU pass me.

Normally, that would’ve sealed it. But for some reason, at a spot he never messed up, Ryoji suddenly veered off the track and crashed spectacularly. Game over.

And so, even though I finished in fourth place, I technically won.

"Whoa, I beat Ryoji! I actually did it!"

"Dammit! I lost my hug!"

"Mistakes like that aren’t like you, Ryoji."

"That’s because—your thighs! When your thighs were showing like that, how the hell was I supposed to concentrate?! I was staring the whole time!"

So... he crashed because he was staring at my legs.

He should never be allowed to get a driver’s license. I’m counting on you, driving schools of the future—don’t let this man on the road!

Still, even if it’s Ryoji, I don’t want him ogling my legs. It’s embarrassing.

And wait—he’s still staring! I tugged down the hem of my long-sleeved shirt to hide them.

For some reason, that tiny move made the small crowd that had gathered start whispering things like “She’s so cute!”

Meanwhile, Ryoji just froze in place, nose bleeding.

Not wanting any more attention, I quickly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away.

"Here, your drink."

"Eep!"

A weird sound slipped out as he pressed the cold bottle against my neck.

I immediately covered my mouth and looked away.

"Ayumu-san? You didn’t do that on purpose... right?"

"Do what on purpose?"

"Never mind. Just stay like that. It makes my heart feel warm."

I didn’t really get what he meant, but I accepted the drink anyway.

Then he added, "Well, since I lost, I guess I should be the one to hug you instead, right?"

I shot back an immediate, "No."

Seriously, what is with him today?

Anyway, he ended up buying me a drink—but when I looked at what he handed me, I froze.

“‘Matcha Bitan A’? What even is that?” It looked disgusting.

"What’s this supposed to be?"

"Found it in that eighty-yen vending machine in the corner. Don’t you feel a little thrill when you see a drink you’ve never seen before?"

"I mean, I get that, but I won, didn’t I? You could’ve at least asked what I wanted."

"I said I’d buy you a drink, not which drink."

Wow. What a lame technicality. The least he could’ve done was pick something that didn’t look like a science experiment.

Whatever. I’ll complain after I taste it.

I twisted the cap. It didn’t budge.

Tried again. Still stuck.

Tried a third time—

"Can’t open it? That’s kinda cute."

"S-Shut up! I can open the ones at home just fine!"

He held out his hand. "Here, let me."

Reluctantly, I handed over the bottle.

“Whoa, yeah, that’s pretty tight!”

With a creak-creak sound, Ryoji finally twisted the cap open.

Why did it take this much effort just to open some sketchy mystery drink?

I took the bottle from him. The smell hit me immediately—bad news.

I took a sip.

“Ugh… that’s awful.”

I shoved the bottle right back into Ryoji’s hands.

It was unbelievably bitter, like pure matcha, yet somehow mixed with the syrupy sweetness of lemon-flavored shaved ice, and to top it off, there was that chemical tang of an energy drink. Those three flavors were at war with each other.

In one word: disgusting.
In two words: really disgusting.

I’d rather drink toothpaste. And since it wasn’t even carbonated, I couldn’t just chug it to get it over with.

“I forfeit my winner’s rights. You drink it.”

“What? Seriously? That’s an indirect kiss! Thank you very much!”

“Don’t say creepy stuff! We’re both guys!”

“You look like a super cute girl though. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter! I’ll savor every last drop!”

“Wait, wait! Did I just hear something insane?! Give it back!”

“Nope! A forfeit can’t be taken back!”

I jumped to grab the bottle, but he lifted it high out of reach. No matter how much I leapt, I couldn’t get it. And the jerk even patted my head while I was trying.

At that point, all I could do was throw out a parting shot:

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll let you off easy today…”

After our “juice break,” we wandered around the arcade again.

“Wanna play Taiko next?”

By “Taiko,” he meant Taiko no Eijin, a rhythm game where you hit a big drum with two sticks to the beat of a song. It’s simple and popular with both guys and girls.

“I’ve never actually played Taiko before. How do I do it?”

“When it’s a red circle, hit the middle of the drum. When it’s blue, hit the rim.”

He popped in the coins and picked a song—some mainstream idol tune.

For difficulty… choosing “Easy” felt like admitting defeat, so I went with “Normal.”
Ryoji, on the other hand, picked some insane mode called “Miracle.”

“Ryoji, you’re seriously gonna play that?”

“Of course. When it comes to Taiko, I’m basically a pro.”

The song started.

Each player’s notes were on a separate lane, but his was so dense I couldn’t even tell when he was supposed to breathe.

Mine looked manageable in comparison.

But actually playing it was tough.

The sticks were heavier than I expected, and my arms started aching almost immediately. After one missed note, everything went downhill fast.

“Wha—? Huh?! I can’t do it right!”

I cried out as I tried to keep up, smacking the drum randomly. None of it matched the beat.

Meanwhile, Ryoji was amazing. I couldn’t even follow what was happening on his screen—he was hammering through that impossible stream of notes like a machine.

Maybe because of him, a small crowd started forming around us.

And there I was, completely terrible, being watched by everyone. My embarrassment made me mess up even more.

Naturally, I failed the stage.

Ugh… so embarrassing. I could hear some people in the crowd saying, “Don’t worry about it!” which, somehow, made me feel both comforted and ashamed.

I sighed and set my sticks back in the holder, but Ryoji stopped me.

“Hey, Ayumu, it’s fine. I cleared my song, so we can play again.”

“Really? Yay!”

I couldn’t help but shout with joy.

For some reason, a few people from the crowd called out things like “Good for you!” and “She’s so cute!”

Man, the people here are weirdly friendly.

“You’re amazing, Ryoji. You drew quite the crowd back there,” I said as we picked the next song.

“Well, yeah, I might’ve gathered the crowd, but... I’m pretty sure they’re all here to watch you, Ayumu.”

“No way. Who’d want to watch someone this bad?”

“That level of obliviousness... truly natural-born airhead!”

What does he mean by “slow”? My movements? Well, sure, they are slow—I can’t argue with that.

I picked another idol song and moved to the difficulty selection screen.

Alright, time to redeem myself!

…And I chose “Easy.” Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the loss! I just want to clear the song, okay?
Ryoji, of course, went straight for “Miracle.” Does this guy ever play on anything but the hardest difficulty?

The song began.

Mine was even simpler than the first one. Just a pattern of single taps—easy enough. This time, I might actually make it through.

When you hit the notes right, it feels pretty good. Huh? Wait, am I… actually good at this? That’s what I almost started thinking—but then I looked over and saw my best friend absolutely hammering away at his side of the machine, and that illusion shattered real quick.

With fewer mistakes than before, I made it all the way to the end of the song.

"Cleared it! Yes!"

I finally managed to clear one! Sure, it was the lowest difficulty, but it still felt nice. I couldn’t help but smile.

From the small crowd around us came cheers of “Congrats!” and then applause started spreading until everyone was clapping.

I mean, the congratulations are nice and all, but… I literally just played the easiest mode, guys.

I gave them a polite smile and bow, then grabbed Ryoji and made a break for it. Hey! Don’t take pictures!

After we wandered around the arcade for a bit, it was about noon.

“Guess it’s lunchtime. Let’s head home.”

We might be graduates now, but we’re still just middle schoolers—eating out would destroy our allowances. I nodded at Ryoji’s suggestion.

"Hey, Ryoji, how about we walk home today?"

"Huh? Why? I don’t mind giving you a ride!"

"Because it’s embarrassing. And I’m a guy, remember?"

"Who cares about little stuff like that? C’mon, you can even hug me if you want!"

Wanting me to hug him—Ryoji really is impossible to understand sometimes. What would hugging me, a guy on the inside, even do for him?

"I’ll get down on my knees if I have to, but I’m putting you on the back of this bike!"

Where does he even get that kind of determination from? Well… if he’s that serious about it, I guess I can’t refuse. Walking home is kind of a pain anyway.

Ryoji pulled out his bike and got on. I climbed onto the back seat.
I thought about standing up on the pegs like people sometimes do, but I couldn’t figure out how, so I gave up.

Sitting on the rear rack, I hooked my hands around the underside of the seat.
Come to think of it, I didn’t need to hold onto Ryoji—there’s already something to grab. Perfect.

Ryoji didn’t start pedaling right away. Instead, he turned his upper body toward me and said,

"Hey, Ayumu-san? Could you, uh, wrap your arms around me like this?"

He made a circular motion with his arms, miming a hug.

"No thanks, I found something else to hold on to."

"If you don’t hold onto me, I’ll shake you off, you know!"

"Then I’ll just walk."

"Dammmn ittttttttttttttttttttttt!"

Letting out a frustrated howl, Ryoji started pedaling.

I mean, come on. Hugging him would just be too embarrassing. Even if he’s my best friend, clinging to another guy is just… a no-go for me.

Sorry, Ryoji.