Mook stares at me as though he believes what I just said, Megan smiles at Uesugi who seems to follow his friend. It was now our turn, we paid and all left together. Mook is the tallest among us, about one hundred and sixty seven centimeters, just six centimeters above me. I do fight, as I am taller than the rest and the two others are equal in height. Megan quickly strides to me and hands me back my jacket with a smile, I wear it and turn to look at the two boys.

“What was your inspiration for that dream of yours?” Uesugi breaks the silence after debating whether to ask me or not. Truth is, I did have dreams of robbing banks and store, before Megan, I had a friend who said he would steal to help those in need, he would sacrifice his life for his family and do things that could cost him a lot just to see others laughing, and there he is six foot under me waiting for God to finally wake him up. As for me– 

“None, it just thrills me… have you ever believed in santa?” I ask and they all nod, “that must be why you all are believing me right now.” I pause and they all relax. “In truth, I too want to be part of the Elites but I just think it will be a waste” being among the top these days is not as simple as getting accepted, sure thing it is easing to enter but so hard to fit in, the competition, wins and losses, are what makes a good playing but just like Kawasaki, I too get bored when I repeat an action twice, to think I will have to dedicate my entire life in championship is quite scary for I have no will of sitting on a chair for the rest of my life.

“A waste?” Mook asked, pulling down the scarf to his nose. Now, his  brown eyes were visible. “Rare are occasions where once find a job he wasn’t forced or had to do, not to drag but the waste you say are people's hard labor” putting a hand in his pocket and pushing down his hat which covers his eyes. Uesugi walks and grabs his cheeks but he doesn’t flinch but pulls him closer to him.

“Be nice,” he scolds before turning to me. “Sorry, he sort of takes gaming as part of his family” I smile understanding, the same road I walk on might also be the road someone prays at. “So, are you like Hariku? I mean the type to get bored easily”

"Boredom, thankfully, has never been something I've truly experienced.” My mind is constantly in search of something new, something different—because while boredom may not strike me, I lose interest faster than most people finish a tutorial. That’s precisely why I own what feels like half the video games in the world. The idea of repeating a game? Absolute horror. For me, playing the same game twice is like watching the same sunrise hoping for a new ending. My curiosity demands freshness, variety, a challenge I haven’t yet faced. Even my mother, who tries her best to understand my chaotic gaming habits, has thrown a few scoldings my way—usually after seeing another unopened game case beside a barely-touched one. But that’s just how I function—ever-hungry for the next adventure. “But it does cross my mind” I turn to Megan who has been silent for a while now, blushing. Her big brown eyes staring at Mook's hand placed on Uesugi’s waist. Noticing us, Uesugi awkwardly moves away from mook to Megan’s dissatisfaction.

"Hearing you now makes it easier to understand Kawasaki. He might be the same kind of person—someone obsessed with chasing new adventures. Maybe you should look for a job that actually gives you that. Gaming, after all, only involves a chair and a screen. For someone like you, being stuck there would be a complete waste of your energy—and your poor teammates would have to rely on someone whose mind is already somewhere else." Mook says thoughtfully, then walks over to Uesugi and places his arm on top of his shoulder.

“What season are you guys on, anyway?” she asks, glancing between them. “Yuki and I are both at the dungeon, but we recently started playing Blue Virus while waiting for these CDs.” Mook shrugs, casually.
“I am about the same level as you guys,” he replies. “But I’m currently playing Enigma, and he’s… well, he’s reading books. He can’t really get into gaming, but loves talking about it.” He pauses, then glances at her—head to toe, slow and measuring. The kind of look someone gives when they’re sizing you up, not admiring. For him to do that, he must know how to fight. And for me to not punch him right now? That just proves I’m a gentleman. Violence isn’t my profession. “So… you play too?” he asks her, voice curious but laced with that familiar edge. She nods. But he grimaces at her answer. I swear, if this guy says something stupid— “I hope it’s not out of boredom too,” he says.

“I don’t play out of boredom,” I answer, my tone calm but firm—because I know that question, whether he admits it or not, was aimed at me. “I do enjoy playing, it is just that I can’t keep doing on the same thing over and over”

“No, —you don’t understand! I want to be a professional gamer too! Like, seriously! I love the sound of my controller—every click, every clack, it’s like the universe applauding me in Morse code!” She clutches an imaginary controller, mimicking frantic button-mashing.
“It’s the soundtrack of destiny. And don’t even get me started on the victory screens—‘YOU WIN!’” She throws both arms up to the sky. “That moment? It’s like the game itself is hugging my soul!” She spins once for dramatic effect, pacing as though addressing an invisible audience. “Sure, I don’t know all the combos yet. I once thought FPS stood for ‘Fierce Princess Showdown.’ But do I let that stop me? No!”
She points to herself with exaggerated pride. “Because I’ve got passion, determination, and at least three rage-quits per session—and that’s just on easy mode!” She pretends to hold a mic, leaning forward, voice lower and intense. “Do you know how many times I’ve shouted at my screen, swearing the game was cheating? That’s not frustration. That’s loyalty! Do you know how many controllers I’ve almost broken and then gently apologized to? That’s devotion!” Then, with a flourish, she steps forward, strikes a heroic pose, and declares: “So maybe I’m not the most skilled gamer… yet. But one day, I’ll be a legend. The kind people whisper about in lobbies and loading screens. They'll say, ‘Is that the girl who beat the boss with sheer chaos and a bag of Cheetos?’ And I’ll nod, controller in one hand, snack in the other—ready to mash buttons into history!”

"Someone clearly has found her soulmate," Uesugi mutters, trying to stifle his laughter behind the back of his hand. But after a moment, he rubs at his cheeks, still chuckling under his breath.

As always, Mook notices. Without a word, he slips off his scarf and gently wraps it around Uesugi’s neck. The motion is casual, but there’s a quiet familiarity to it—an unspoken language they both seem fluent in.

Uesugi blushes but doesn’t protest. He doesn't even try to remove the scarf.

With the scarf gone, the hat he wore did little to hide Mook’s long, dark hair. It tumbled past his shoulders, nearly brushing his chest. Beneath the loose strands, just faintly visible under his mandible, was a faded star-shaped drawing etched beside what looked like an old scar.

“So, what’s Blue Virus about?” Uesugi asked, stepping closer to Mook. We had left the bustling crowd of the store behind and were now walking south toward Kobe. Luckily, the road was clear, no cars yet to worry about.

“Oh…” Megan suddenly pushed me aside with playful force and stepped up to her target with a mischievous grin. Mook disappointed expression was priceless. She began, voice low and theatrical: “It’s set in this high school—totally ordinary, right? But then, a mysterious virus breaks out, turning the students into these… crazed, infected versions of themselves. They’re not fully lost, but their minds are slipping, and they can barely control their powers.” She paced a little, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“The twist? The teachers all disappeared—except for one. This teacher holds the antidote, but no one knows where they are. So the students have to band together, fight off infected classmates, and solve puzzles to track down the missing teacher before the whole school turns into a quarantine zone.”

Mook raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds like a nightmare for group projects.”

Megan laughed.
“Exactly! But it’s all about teamwork, trust, and figuring out who’s friend or foe. Plus, you unlock new skills as you go—like hacking school systems, crafting makeshift antidotes, or even calming down infected students.”

She glanced at me and winked.
“Pretty intense for a school game, huh?” Megan said with a theatrical wave of her arms, her breath curling into mist in the cold air. She rubbed her gloved hands together. “But Yuki here says it’s a game for losers—and the creator probably ripped someone off. Apparently, it sounds familiar to him.”

Mook sniffed, keeping his hands in his pockets. “It kind of does... I played something similar back home. No teacher with an antidote though—just infected classmates and a vending machine that only gave you expired soda.”

The four of us laughed lightly as we walked. side by side down a nearly empty street, our steps echoing on the cold pavement. The sky was pale and washed out with hints of lavender and steel gray. The shops in Motomachi Shopping Street were just beginning to open, metal shutters rattling as early workers dragged them up. The scent of fresh bread and faint coffee drifted from a corner bakery.

Megan edged closer to Mook, bumping into me as she passed.“Alright, mysterious stranger, what’s your player name?”

Mook glanced sideways. His breath came out in a slow puff. “AshCloud17.”

“Ooooh,” Megan drew the name out. “Very moody. Sounds like someone who broods while leveling up.”

Uesugi raised an eyebrow, sipping from a vending machine can of hot cocoa he’d just ran to buy. “Kind of edgy for 7:30 in the morning, don’t you think?”

Mook gave a small shrug. “I made it when I was eleven.”

Megan chuckled. “Fair enough. Wait—do you go to school around here?”

Mook hesitated. “Not really. I’m... not in school anymore.”

That made Megan slow slightly, her eyes flicking to him curiously. “Oh, like, gap year?”

Mook shook his head. “Dropped out.”

Uesugi finally spoke again, breaking the moment. “I go to Rokko High. Second year. It’s alright. Better than nothing, I guess.”

Megan looked between them, her nose slightly pink from the cold. “So you’re the dropout, and you’re the diligent one?” she asked Uesugi with a playful grin. “Wild.”

Uesugi chuckled into his drink. “Don’t let the scarf fool you. I’m not that responsible.”

Mook shot him a look. “You’re wearing my scarf.”

“Exactly.”

We passed through Sannomiya Center Gai, where a few schoolgirls in thick scarves hurried past us, and a bakery owner swept the sidewalk outside his shop. A jazz song played faintly from a speaker inside.

As we approached the crosswalk near Ikuta Shrine, Megan slowed. “So... AshCloud17,” she said, turning to Mook with a dramatic bow, “add me later. I’ll send you my tag. Don’t go ghosting. I’d hate to have to track you down through, like, suspiciously poetic messages in the game chat.”

Mook gave a barely-there smile. “Noted.”

Megan and I peeled off toward the opposite sidewalk, waving casually. “Later, mystery boys.”

Uesugi gave a half-wave while Mook smiled slightly, then turned to head north toward Rokko school. “Nice meeting you, I guess. Good luck with... surviving the game.”