Hey, all! I know a lot of you are probably wondering where the hell my updates for Tsumeki-chan are, but I have some major writer's block going on, so I wrote this to give you something else to check out for a while. I hope you enjoy it!
I don't own Naruto or Dance Dance Revolution.
Teuchi Ichiraku had bought the DDR machine from an arcade that went belly-up. It took a bit of work before it was operational. The card swipe was only programmed to accept the prepaid cards you bought at the arcade (for ridiculous prices, I might add), but he talked to the manufacturers and they told him who to talk to to get it fixed up. It cost him about as much to get someone out to this backwater college town as it did to buy the machine, but now it's got a coin slot for each side, as well as a credit card swipe. He says he bought it to try and bring in some of the younger crowd to his bar. I don't know how well that's worked out for him on the whole, but I've been getting some use out of it.
My name is Naruto Uzumaki. I'm about 6'1", blonde, a little antisocial, and I hate cardio exercise. Like, really hate it. You give me just about any other workout routine or machine, and I'll do it happily, but cardio is so...boring. The DDR machine fixed me up for that, though. Now, on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, my off days from my main workout, I head to Ichiraku's and work the DDR machine for about half an hour. I put the difficulty all the way up, pick fast paced songs, and spend the next thirty minutes in a relatively entertaining workout. I can go longer now, but I don't. I'm getting enough exercise in the time I'm already spending there, and I don't want to burn myself out on it. If that happened, I'd have to go back to running. That idea isn't appealing at all, so I regulate how much dancing I do.
Well, except for Saturday. Saturdays are my favorite, because it's DDR Night. Some bars have Karaoke Night, some do open mic comedy, some have live performances, but not Ichiraku's. Here, every Saturday, old man Ichiraku and his daughter, Ayame, rearrange the whole bar so they can move the DDR machine right into the center of the building. Until seven o'clock, if you want to dance, you get to let everyone see how bad you are instead of safely busting a move in the corner, where only the fringe tables can make fun of you. After seven, though, the DDR tournament starts. Teuchi pays for the tournament games, since it's all going back to him anyways, and it's mostly a promotional stunt. It's usually pretty small, around twenty, twenty-five people. Sometimes, though, there'll be a horde of people coming in. We've had nights where up to seventy people would show up to make fools of themselves in front of friends and strangers alike, and those can go well past three in the morning. If you're wondering how it could possibly take that long, it's because Teuchi doesn't set it up as a single elimination. Two people go up at a time, and they go for the best of three. After that, the winner moves on, but the loser can challenge a different winner for the right to get back into the running. Whoever loses that match is out of the tournament for the rest of the night, no re-entry challenges allowed. After you got down to eight people, though, you couldn't even do that. Losing meant losing. So that set up added a decent amount of time, but the other reason (and probably the one that caused the most extra time to be spent) is that some of the matches have to go into bonus rounds when it gets late because the people are too drunk to dance and nobody wins the round. So what's the prize, you might wonder. What are all of these people dancing like fools for? Up to two free meals a day, plus drinks, until the next Saturday, when you had to fight to keep your winnings. I'm actually on my best streak right now, at four weeks and running. But that's not what this story is about. This story is about...well, I'm not going to tell you that just yet. What I will tell you is that when it started, because I remember the date well: Thursday, February 23, 2012.
I walked into Ichiraku's, flexing my feet in my shoes. I had just bought a new pair because my asshole roommate used my last pair and broke the plastic supports in the back. They dug into my heel any time I put them on. He also refused to pay anything for them, so I pawned off a couple of his Xbox games for the new pair. I always wore running shoes, even though I never really ran. I hated running. The reason I liked running shoes is because the support is built differently, and it felt more comfortable on my foot than a regular tennis shoe.
"Hey, Teuchi!" I waved.
"Hey there, Naruto! How're you doing today?" He was expertly filling beer mugs while holding what looked like three different conversations. If I knew him at all, he probably hadn't looked at the tap since he started talking, and from the amount of people at the bar nursing mugs, that could have been a while.
"I'm all right, how're you and Ayame?"
"Just rub some cayenne powder into the chairs they try to bite at, they'll know to leave them alone after that." Evidently, Kiba's new litter of puppies was giving him more trouble than he was prepared for. "We're doing fine, thanks for asking," he said to me after helping Kiba out. "Hey, you're going to be here for the tournament tomorrow night, right? You need to take your title back from Neji, after all."
Two weeks ago, I had gained championhood and free meals, and it was good. I hadn't been champion in a little over a month, so I was pretty excited about being on top again. The next week, Neji had trounced me in the final round and stolen all of my glory and free dinners. "Of course I am. Haven't missed one in two months, have I?"
"Sure you have. Just three weeks ago you told me you had to work overtime to finish building the new Haruno place and wouldn't be able to show on Saturday."
I clicked my tongue. He was right. I worked with a building contractor, and they occasionally needed all hands on deck to finish a project on time. The Haruno's new house was one such incident. Rock Lee had been hit by a car and broke his leg, and he was our fastest drywaller. He did in thirty minutes what took three people forty. "Well, the pay was good. I can't say I regret having to do it."
Teuchi laughed. "I suppose it would be. I don't suppose you want anything yet?"
"Not yet, but I'll definitely have the Four when I'm finished with my workout." Teuchi's Combo Four was fantastic. He said Ayame had given him the idea from a book she'd read. Basically, you cooked up a steak medium rare, put some steak sauce on it, slapped it between two slices of bread, and bam. Steak sandwich. Served with homemade steak fries and a cold beer, it's a champion among meals.
"Sure thing. I'll have Ayame throw the steak on in twenty minutes, then."
"Thanks."
"Sure thing. Have fun with your workout." He immediately went back to talking to the other patrons. Some people compared bartenders to therapists or psychiatrists. Teuchi was neither. He was everybody's grandpa.
I saw Ayame come out of the kitchen with a tray of steak sandwiches. If Teuchi was everybody's grandpa, Ayame was the hot cousin you really want to make out with, but you can't, because she's your cousin. Or rather, in this case, because Teuchi would probably kill you.
"Hi, Naruto!" she said, smiling brilliantly. Even with food, drink, and grease stains all over her apron and clothes, she still managed to be stunning and beautiful. I had tried to get her to go out with me before – she was only a year older than me, maybe two – but she hadn't been interested. There were no hard feelings. I wasn't too torn up about it. Bummed out for a week, sure, but I got over it.
"Heya! How're you?"
"I'm doing great, you?"
"Pretty well, thanks."
"Steak on the grill in twenty, then?"
I grinned. I didn't get the number four every time I came here, but I did often enough that Teuchi and Ayame mostly assumed that I would. "You know it."
"All right. Gotta get this food on the table, though. Talk to you after my shift?"
"Sure thing. I'll fill you in on the latest and greatest in construction site mishaps."
"Awesome. It's a date." She winked at me and continued her graceful dance through the bar to deliver the miracle of steak sandwiches to some lucky unbelievers.
I moved the rest of the way to the DDR machine. It was tucked into a corner, out of sight of most of the bar. It was the only spare outlet that could manage the voltage to power the thing, other than the one over on the center wall, but it was only put there for the tournaments. Keeping it there all the time would mess with the seating arrangement Teuchi had, and it worked out better that way anyways. I took my backpack off – I come straight from my college campus – and rifled through the main compartment. At the bottom, I found my coin pouch. It was a leather bag I had bought at a flea market a couple years back, big enough that it could fit in two good sized oranges with room for an apricot or three. I kept all of my quarters in it, and they were used exclusively for the DDR machine and the laundromat. Usually, I could keep it filled by the change I got from buying food on-campus or whatever random trips to the grocery store I made (I prefer not to use my debit card), but if it got too low, which could happen if I had an abysmal run on the DDR machine, I would break a twenty with Teuchi and fill it back up.
I opened the pouch and slid two quarters into the coin slot. I'd never used a DDR machine other than this one, so this may or may not be normal, but if you got a good enough score on a song, you could do another for free. I flipped through the music a bit, looking for a song with a medium pace to warm me up. Before I started, I checked around to make sure nobody else was coming to join in on the second pad. It was annoying to want to join somebody on a song and have them start it right before you got there. Since nobody was coming, I started it and got ready to work out.
Perfect, good, great, miss, good, perfect, great...
It wasn't a bad start. I sneezed and missed a step, but I was getting warmed up, so that was okay. In a song or two, when I'd be lining up the perfects, it would annoy me a bit more. After the first twenty seconds or so, my mind began to wander and my muscles took over. This song was easy. That was the reason I had picked it, of course, because I don't like to jump right into the full blast stuff, but that didn't make it any less dull. It was kind of like running, really. Nothing to do but let your body do its thing and think about stuff. Thankfully, the song was quickly over, and I stepped it up to a faster pace.
That's how the next twenty-seven minutes went, with me rapidly stringing songs together to ensure a minimal rest period so I could keep my muscles from settling. While I consistently did well, my first fifty cents ran out by song number three. In the end, I spent about two dollars in my workout. I was about to start up my last song when I heard someone talk behind me.
"Excuse me?"
I jumped, startled, and spun around. I just about fell over after I did. I was breathless.
I should add, here, that it wasn't just because she was beautiful, which she was. She was amazingly beautiful. Her skin was moderately tanned and completely unblemished. Her eyes were a deep, shining green, like emeralds. She wasn't skinny, but neither was she fat by any means. She couldn't have weighed an ounce over a hundred and fifty pounds, with a nice hourglass that wasn't too dramatic. If someone asked me later, I would say that my eyes hadn't immediately gravitated to her breasts, and that I subtly checked them out later, but I can't honestly say I didn't stare at them for a moment. They were...ample. Not huge, but still pretty big. She was wearing an olive colored T-shirt that had two cartoon foxes wrestling on it and a pair of tan cargo shorts. So, yes, she was beautiful. But the thing that really floored me was her hair. I have a thing for nice hair, I always have, but more than that, I have a thing for red hair. Not ginger hair, red. Bright and fiery. You don't see it very often, and especially not naturally, but when a girl had it...
And damn, but did she have it. She had gorgeous hair. It shone like rubies in the sun, even in the somewhat dim light of Ichiraku's. And it was full. Thick. It fell down in waves past her shoulders. Obviously, facing her front, I couldn't tell exactly how long it was, but it was long. Another plus in my book.
So, at this point, I was really just hoping I hadn't been awkwardly checking her out for more than a couple seconds. I cleared my throat. "Ah. Yes?"
"Would you mind if I joined you?"
That voice. Dear God. Musical. Absolutely musical. "Sure. Yeah. No problem."
She pulled a wallet out of one of her pockets. "Is that fifty cents?" she said as she stepped up onto the open pad.
"Yeah." I tried to focus in on the screen. I wouldn't be able to dance if I was looking at her. It mostly worked. I was still distracted as I saw her out of the corner of my eye.
"There we go. You mind if I pick the song?"
"No, not at all. Go for it."
I hadn't seen which one she picked (because I was too busy watching her bite her lip), but I heard it start, and it was a fast beat. I missed the first step.
Good, good, great, good, perfect, good, great, good...
I didn't dare glance over at her side of the screen. It would be more of a distraction than I would be able to handle. This was more of a workout than the rest of my session combined, if only because of how tense all of my muscles suddenly were and how my brain was insisting that yes, this was, in fact, the best time for it to call time out and rest up.
The ending of the song surprised me about as much as the beginning. I'm sure my extra two steps would have landed 'perfect' if the song was still going. A large 'B' popped up on my side of the screen. I looked over at hers, where an 'A' shone proudly. She was smiling. It made Ayame's look plain.
I was suddenly struck with how stupid I looked. Sure, my outfit was fine. I was wearing bootcut jeans and a gray T-shirt. But I looked terrible. I hadn't shaved in three or four days, so my beard was still patchy and bad looking. It was in that stage between a light fuzz and a developing beard that made you look kind of homeless. My hair was a mess, too. I looked like I just got out of the shower and shook it dry like a dog.
Master of the first impression. That's me.
In my self-loathing trance, I hadn't noticed that she had left. I snapped my head around and saw her heading back into the bar proper. "Hey!" I shouted before I could realize that this was a terrible idea.
She stopped and turned her head around. Man, that was a nice ass. I idly noted that her hair went down between her shoulder blades. Perfect.
I realized I wasn't talking, and she was waiting for me to do so. Shit. "Good game," I said, mentally kicking myself for not thinking of something better to say.
She smiled at me again. "You too." She continued on her path and...walked out of the bar. Had I not been busy melting at that smile, I might have been heartbroken at the realization that she was gone and I didn't know a thing about her. I might have even burst out the door after her. But I didn't.
"Redhead," said Ayame, nodding sympathetically. "Your kryptonite."
"That's not even kryptonite at that point," I said, still looking at the door. "That's like...I don't even know. What's worse than kryptonite? Whatever's worse than kryptonite, that's what it is."
"Eloquent tonight, aren't we?"
"Look. My brain isn't working. What do you need?"
"I've got your dinner." It suddenly occurred to me that she was holding a small tray with my Combo Four on it.
"Right. Thanks." I put my coin pouch back in my backpack, slung a strap over my shoulder and took the tray. "Do you know who that was?"
Ayame made an 'I don't know' face and shrugged.
"Maybe Teuchi does?"
"I'll ask him for you," she said. "Sit down before you fall over. You look like you're made of Jell-O."
"Bitch, I might be," I muttered weakly as she made her way to her father. I sat down at the table nearest the DDR machine and started in on the fries.
When I was about halfway through my meal, Ayame came back. "Dad doesn't know her. He says she came in asking about the DDR tournaments."
An alarm clock was going off in my head. "DDR tournaments? That means she'll be here Saturday, right?"
"Yeah, probably. Dad told her when they were. He pointed her over to the DDR machine, and I'm pretty sure you know the rest."
I collapsed back in my seat, my head parallel with the ceiling. "Ayame. I need to get this woman's number."
"Then get it."
I looked up at her.
She must have read the question on my face, because she answered it. "Yes, it can be that easy. Look, if she's any good at DDR, she'll make it up in the tournament a bit. Buy her a drink after you two face off. Ask her for her number. Easy as that."
"You think?"
Ayame grinned. "Sometimes."
I rolled my eyes at her. "Get out of here. I'll talk to you after work."
"All right. Enjoy the rest of your food."
"Yeah, I will. Thanks."
The Next Day
"Was she hot?" asked Chouji out of the side of his mouth. He was inhaling a Clif Bar. He liked to eat one at the beginning of the work day to keep him going between breakfast and lunch.
"No," I said. "She wasn't hot. She was gorgeous."
"What's the difference?"
I heaved a post up and dropped it into the post hole. "You want to bang a hot chick. A gorgeous woman you want to date."
"So you don't want to screw her?" he said, gulping down the last bite of chocolate-riddled granola.
"I'd rather have a relationship with her than a one night stand."
"Gay," said Sasuke as he walked by, pushing a wheelbarrow full of dirt."
"Oh, shut up," I called after him. He ignored me.
"I dunno, man," said Shikamaru. "I think you're making it up."
"What? Since when do I make shit like this up?"
"Since when does a twelve out of ten walk into Ichiraku's, do one round of DDR, and then leave? No food, no drink, no socializing. Just one round of DDR with you, and that's it."
"I'm telling you, she's for real. Show up Saturday, you'll see."
"Man, I have better things to do than wait around a bar to see if you're lying about a chick or not," he said.
"Whatever," I said. "Your loss."
"Naruto!" yelled Guy, my boss. "Good to see you! Come over here for a minute!"
"Morning, Guy," I yelled back. "You're late."
He waved a hand in dismissal as I walked over to him. "The Mrs. cooked up a special breakfast. It's two years since we've been married, you know."
"Oh, well, good for you! Happy anniversary."
"Thanks, Naruto."
"So, what did you need?"
"Nothing much. Sasuke had to bail on tomorrow last minute, he needs to drive his dad to surgery. I need you to cover his shift."
"Which shift is he on?" I asked nervously.
"He's on the late shift, fixing the sinkhole damage in the Senju house. Five to eleven."
My heart dropped. "Guy, I...I can't. I need to be somewhere tomorrow."
He frowned. "It's not for DDR night at Ichiraku's, is it?"
"It's...well...yes, it is, but I need to be there this week."
"Why? What's so important?"
"It's...there's a girl. I met her yesterday, and she was amazing, but I didn't get her number. But she's going to be there tomorrow, and I need to be there so I can talk to her!" I hated how much I sounded like a fifteen year old.
"Well...All right. You can have Saturday. But you'll need to cover Chouji on Sunday."
"Yes. No problem at all. I can do that. Thanks so much, Guy."
He smiled. "Hey, I can't take away somebody's chance to get a girl. Not after mine's made my life so great."
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Guy laughed. "You already said that, Naruto. Now get back to work before I dock you pay or make you run laps or something."
I laughed too. "Sure thing, boss."
My Saturday class was terrible. All I could think about was the redheaded woman whom I would be meeting again at DDR Night tonight. The professor was at the head of the room, rambling on about... what class was I in? Econ 405, right. This asshole of a class. I hated it on the best of days. It was boring and mind-numbing, but it was a business degree requirement. I looked down at my notebook, but all that was on the page were vague, messy, and scribbled out attempts to draw her hair. As I thought about her some more, a terrifying thought struck me. What if she was a bitch? What if she was naggy and needy and horrible to be around? No, that couldn't be the case. She was kind, and polite. The limited interaction we had had yesterday had shown that. But what if she was only like that sometimes? It was doubtful.
"Hey, Naruto," said Sakura. "He's getting ready to call you out. Six percent annually."
"And...Mr. Uzumaki. Would you care to answer the question?"
I gulped. Sakura had never intentionally fed me misinformation, but it was not an experience I was keen to have. Usually, I liked to know what the question was before using someone else's answer. "Six percent annually," I said.
The professor looked surprised. "Yes, that is the correct answer. Nicely done, Mr. Uzumaki."
I smiled weakly. "Thanks," I said to the professor. I was looking at Sakura. She nodded and smiled at me.
She pulled out her phone and set it between us. She keyed open the Notes app and began typing. I glanced at the professor, but he was looking at the board again. Besides, we were in the top tier of desks. He likely wouldn't be able to even tell what we were doing.
Sakura tapped my arm. I looked down at her phone. You are way out of it today. Wassup?
I looked at her and half-smiled. Distracted. Thinking about tonight.
This distracted by DDR Night?
I shook my head. Girl.
Her eyebrows shot up her rather impressive forehead. Girl? Who?
Dunno. Did one round of DDR with her Thursday.
Cute?
Gorgeous. As an afterthought, I added, Redhead.
Ahhh. Think you have a shot?
Dunno. I didn't make the best first impression.
You'll do fine. Shave. Be funny. Dance like an idiot.
I felt my face. I hadn't shaved yet. That would be a good idea. The beard is patchy, and patchy is not attractive. Yeah. Thanks.
Buy her a drink or something. I'm sure you'll do fine.
I'm just nervous.
Why?
No plan.
Good. Wing it. You're better at that.
You think?
If you plan, and forget the plan, you'll crash and burn. Text me how it goes.
K. Wish me luck.
Luck. She crossed her fingers and smiled at me. I smiled back.
I walked into Ichiraku's at 6:55. I hadn't dared to show up earlier in case she was there too, and I might make an idiot out of myself sooner than I had planned on. I wasn't nearly as confident in my chances of walking out of her with her number tonight as I had been when I had been talking with Sakura.
"Hey, Naruto!" said Teuchi, waving at me from behind the bar.
I waved back. "Hey, old man! Ready to give me some free meals?"
He laughed. "Are you ready to earn them?" he asked.
"You know it."
He looked around for a minute and subtly motioned me over. I raised an eyebrow, but went to the bar. "Yeah?"
"Your girl is here," he said. "She's warming up on the DDR machine. She's got a line of admirers, so you're gonna have to stick yourself out to get her attention."
I grimaced. I hadn't considered that other people would be going after her, too. "Well, let's just make sure we dance off, then, huh?"
Teuchi held his hands up. "Well, I'm not rigging anything. You want the girl, you get her the old fashioned way."
"And what's the old fashioned way?"
"You make yourself so smooth that she slips when she walks by," he said, grinning. "That's how I got my wife on the hook."
"Yeah? You were smooth, back in the day?"
He chucked. "Back in the day? I'm still smooth, boy, you watch your mouth."
"Right, sorry, old guy."
He chuckled again and punched me in the arm. "Go get her," he said, giving me a conspiratorial wink.
The DDR Tournament started a few minutes later. My first matchup was with Kiba, and I wouldn't have any problem stomping him down. Besides that he was an okay dancer, he had been flirting at the redhead since I had arrived, and I couldn't have that. I didn't hate the guy or anything, far from it. I just couldn't have competition. I knew Kiba all right; if I beat him, he'd be too embarrassed to continue flirting.
I stepped up to the pad when it was my turn. Kiba followed shortly after.
"You're going down, Uzumaki."
"Not on the first round, I'm not," I said.
Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, good, great, perfect, perfect...
It was a great start. I knew the song we were on backwards and forwards. It was one of my regular workout songs. I chanced a glance at Kiba's side. He wasn't doing terrible, but where I was getting 'Perfect', he was getting 'Great'. I liked my odds.
At the end of the song, a 'AA' was on my side of the screen, evoking applause from the audience. Kiba had to content himself with a 'B'.
I wasn't too concerned about the next three matches. I didn't really know the guys competing. I mostly chatted with Rock Lee, who had come to watch (he still couldn't move too well on his broken leg), and watched the redhead. God, to just know her name. I felt bad calling her 'the redhead' or 'the girl/woman'. I had resolved to get up and talk to her when I heard the next match announced.
"Tsumeki vs Ino!" called Teuchi.
The redhead stood up.
"Tsumeki," I whispered. What a beautiful name.
I hadn't seen her dance before – except in my peripherals, but that hardly counted – but she was graceful. It was...enchanting, even. She was lining up perfects like it was nothing. At the end of the song, her 'AAA' stood next to Ino's 'A'.
Rock Lee whistled. "Triple A. You don't see a lot of those." He elbowed me. "Do you do triple A's?"
"Sometimes," I said. "I usually get double A's or regular A's."
I don't really remember the next chunk of that night. It passed by in a blur of dancing, beer, and steak sandwiches. What I do remember is that when the Final Four came down, it was me against Tsumeki and Neji against somebody named Kin.
I walked up to the pad, my nerves like steel. I wasn't going to react the same way I did Thursday. I was going to be awesome. Sexy. Something that isn't...Thursday.
"Hey, stranger," she said, joining me at the machine.
"Hey yourself," I said. "Nice dancing so far."
"Not too bad yourself. You'll have to do better than a double A to beat me, though." She smiled.
I struggled to come up with something witty to reply with. I settled for, "We'll just see about that," and I grinned at her. She smiled back. I wanted to melt.
Perfect, perfect, miss ("Shit!'), perfect, perfect, perfect, great, perfect, good, good, great, perfect...
I glanced over at her side. This song was one of the quicker ones, and it seemed she wasn't as familiar with it. She didn't seem to be faring too much better than I was. I grinned. I had done just about every song on this machine more times than I could count. I had this.
When the song ended, my heart started thundering. Two 'AA's appeared on the screen, and I felt the collective eyes of the crowd go to the points.
She had beaten my by a margin of one thousand points.
She whistled. "Close game."
"Yeah," I nodded. "Closer than I've had in a while."
She looked at me, smiled, and extended her hand. "Good game," she said.
I gripped her hand and couldn't help but to start grinning like a fool. "You too," I said.
Neji stepped up to the pad. He had won his match against Kin handily, and now it was him against Tsumeki for the championship.
"Hey," I said to her.
She looked at me over her shoulder.
"You've got this."
She smiled again and turned back to the machine.
The match was ridiculous. Neji was good. I had trouble beating him. Obviously, sometimes I didn't, because I lost to him last week. The thing is, she was just as good as him, if not better. I couldn't see anything but 'Perfects' lining up on both of their screens. Nobody made a sound while the two danced the dance of the ages. I wasn't breathing. I don't know if anyone else was either. My lungs made their protest known, but I stuffed it back down. This was more important than breathing at the moment. Golden 'Perfects' lit the screen for two solid minutes. But then, it happened.
Neji sneezed.
That one miss killed his combo, and Tsumeki danced on to victory. Her victory margin against Neji was smaller than hers against mine. The crowd roared its approval.
"Ladies and gentlemen," yelled Teuchi. "May I present Ms. Tsumeki Kyuubi, this week's DDR champion! Madame champion, congratulations! Let's hear it for her!"
The applause was even louder before. Dancing like that was uncommon, even for Neji. He had been in the zone. He had only his sinuses to curse for his failure.
The activity in the bar died down an hour or so later. Tsumeki was enjoying her spoils of victory in the form of a hamburger and onion rings with a Coke. I knew this because I was sitting at the table with her.
"I tell you, I'm in here dancing on that thing just about every day, and I've never been able to dance like that," I said.
"No? Really?"
"Really. I've gotten a triple A maybe, what, ten times in the past three months? Even then, it wasn't that impressive."
She laughed. "Thanks!"
I was quiet for a moment while she ate. I had the remnants of my own onion rings pushed to the side of the table. Officially, I knew that it was closing time for Teuchi and Ayame; they usually didn't go later than 2:30 A.M. on Saturdays, unless the tournament took them past that. It was currently 3:12, and I knew they were only still open to help me out. I would make sure to thank them later.
"So," I said, "When are you going to be down here next?"
Tsumeki shrugged. "Probably not for a while. I live about half an hour away, and on a college student's budget, I don't make too many trips like that."
I wracked my mind as quickly as I could, but I couldn't think of any colleges thirty minutes away from here. The next one was just a little over an hour. "Where do you go?"
"Oh, I take online classes. It's cheaper, and my job doesn't pay that well." She looked at me out of the corner of her eye as she took a sip from her Coke. "Why do you ask? About me coming down here again, that is."
I shrugged as noncommittally as I could. "I dunno. Maybe I want a rematch," I said, gesturing at the DDR machine.
She looked at it, then back at me, and smiled. "Well. I do have two free meals a day down here."
"You do."
"Thirty minutes of gas really isn't that much, put up against free lunch."
"It's not."
"How about tomorrow?"
I was about to agree, but then I remembered that Guy had told me I needed to cover for Chouji. My heart withered. I did not want to tell her that I couldn't do the day that worked for her.
"No, wait," she said, looking up thoughtfully. "No, my mother is visiting me tomorrow. How about Monday? Do you have plans Monday?"
Not anymore, I didn't. "Nope. Monday is completely free for me." Who needs Marketing 450, anyways?
"Great. I'll see you at noon, then?"
"Noon sounds good."
She finished her burger and stood up. "I really should get going. I had no idea it was going to go this long."
"Yeah," I said, "DDR night bends time and space. You never know when it'll actually be over."
She laughed. "Anyways. See you Monday for lunch."
"See you then."
I honestly have no memory of the following day. My running theory is that my burning desire for Monday to arrive caused me to travel forward in time. When Monday did come, though, I was bouncing off the walls, waiting for noon to arrive. When it finally did, I flew out the door and sprinted to Ichiraku's. I could have taken my car, but I needed to burn some of the energy I had rushing through my body. I had a date with the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen. And it was happening today. Soon. I jumped in the air, punched up my fist, and yelled for the sheer sake of yelling. I was ecstatic. I was beyond ecstatic. I was flying. I was running, and I was enjoying it. Ichiraku's was about a ten minute walk from my dorm. I made it there in three. Before I got there, though, I slowed down and calmed myself as best I could. I had to look...not like I was looking. I didn't want to scare her away.
I walked into the bar. It was mostly empty. Not many people here at noon on a Monday, for obvious reasons.
"Naruto?" Teuchi said, surprised. "You don't usually come here on Mondays."
"You're right," I said. "But today is special. Today, I've got a date."
Teuchi's eyebrows went up. "With Tsumeki?"
"With Tsumeki."
He laughed. "Good job! I knew you could do it!"
"Thanks, Teuchi," I said. I couldn't help but smile. "And thanks for keeping the bar open late for me."
"Of course, of course," he said. "I saw you were sitting and talking with her, and I couldn't just cut you off."
"I appreciate it. Really, I do."
"It's not a problem. Ayame was happy to do it, and so was I."
My phone gave a loud chime off. I had gotten a text.
"You go ahead and take care of your phone," Teuchi said. "Let me know when you two are ready to order."
"Yeah, I will. Thanks." I pulled my phone out.
The text was from Sakura. You never texted me.
I quickly shot back a reply. On a date with her. Text you later.
My phone gave off four more chimes in rapid succession, but I put it on vibrate and shoved it in my pocket. Tsumeki had just entered the bar.
"Hey, Tsumeki!" I said, going to greet her.
"Hey yourself," she said, smiling at me. Even after all the times she had done it, it was still liquifying.
Her outfit was downright sexy today. She was wearing flip-flops, dark blue jeans, and a white T-shirt. The shirt somehow made her hair look redder.
"How're you?" I asked.
"Doing pretty well," she said. "Yourself?"
Top of the world. "I'm all right," I said.
We were both quiet for a moment.
"So, rematch or food first?" she asked.
"Oh, rematch, definitely. Work ourselves up an appetite."
She laughed. "If you say so."
As we made our way over to the DDR machine, my brain hatched an idea. "Hey, Tsumeki."
"Yes?"
"Let's make a bet."
She raised an eyebrow. It was adorable. "What kind of bet?"
"If I win, I get to buy your lunch."
The other eyebrow joined its sister in the upward position. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"And if I win?"
"I dunno. I'll give you twenty bucks to cover your gas here and your next couple meals at home?"
The lights in her eyes were dancing. "Sure. It's a bet." We shook on it.
We put in our money. I queued up my best song. My heart was racing. "If you don't mind this one?"
"Sure," she said. She hadn't stopped smiling since we had made the bet.
Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, great, perfect...
I had a bit of a slip-up with one of my steps, but I was nailing perfects left and right. I glanced over at her screen to see how I was measuring up. I almost got a miss when I saw how she was doing.
Good, good, good, good, great, good, good, good...
She looked completely carefree and content. She was still smiling, and didn't seem to care that her performance wasn't anything near what it usually was.
She was throwing the match.
My heart leaped up into my throat, and I danced like I hadn't ever danced before, pure elation sending my feet from one arrow to the next.
My 'AAA' stood out starkly against her 'C'.
"Oh, darn," she said. "I lost."
I thought about mentioning that she threw the game, but I decided not to. She looked too happy, too... too radiant as she picked up her purse and made her way to a table for me to spoil the moment.
"You want a Combo Four," I said. "It's the best thing on the menu."
"Okay," she said.
I relayed the order to Teuchi. He grinned and went into the kitchen.
"So what brought you down here to begin with, anyways?" I asked.
"Oh, a friend of mine mentioned this place's DDR tournaments a few days ago. She had come down here last weekend with some of her work buddies. It was...different. I wanted to give it a shot."
I nodded. "Yeah? And are you glad you did?"
I looked into her eyes for a moment, and they weren't dancing anymore. They were soaring. I could see right into her mind, and she was as excited as I was.
"I'd say so," she said. She bit her lip. My heart picked up even more – I thought it would beat out of my chest. "You know...I want to tell you a secret of mine," she said. "I haven't shared this secret with anyone in a very long time. But only if you promise not to share it with anyone else. Okay?"
I nodded. "Promise."
She leaned over the table and kissed me. I kissed her back. My brain wasn't involved in the decision. It didn't need to be.
She pulled back, smiling even wider than she had been before. "Like I said. Don't share it with anyone, okay?"
I took her hands in mine. "Never."
So perhaps, now that you've heard this story, you'll understand the significance of that same DDR machine as Teuchi's wedding present to me and Tsumeki, some two years later. He had made enough money that he could afford a brand new one, and he wanted us to have that one. All the other presents from all the other guests could never have meant as much as that old, refurbished DDR machine.
Started: Approximately 10:30, 5/24/2014. Finished: Approximately 5:00, 5/25/2014. With an hour or so worth of video game breaks in there. Maybe half an hour of YouTube breaks as well. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. I came up with the idea about two hours before I started it, hahaha. Anyways, here's hoping my writer's block dies soon.