"Uhm, the loser is supposed to buy the winner a drink."

"That's not it," Nishikata replied, fishing a can of orange juice from the vending machine on their way home. "put this on your hand, just in case."

The boy didn't notice, as it was never his forte to pick up on subtle reactions, but Takagi was taken a back ever so slightly.

"My hand is fine, and at the very least I could've paid for it, considering you are the victor." She said, stressing extra emphasis on the word "victor". Nishikata handed her the can, his head facing the ground.

"As if I could accept a victory like that." A pause, then Takagi leaned closer.

"Your attempt at chivalry is much appreciated, unfortunately there is a certain issue to this."

"What?"

Takagi motions her chin towards her bike that she is holding beside her, which clearly requires both hands to walk with.

"If you could be so willing to keep the can on my-"

"I GOT IT!" Nishikata interrupted, stealing her bike away from her and pushing it along himself. Takagi giggled.

"My, my, this victor sure has initiative." She said, finally pressing the orange juice on her hand.

"It's really cold."

"The juice won't last so put some ice on it when you get home."

"My hand is fine." She repeated. Whether or not her hand was fine, he didn't care. His only concern was that fact that he had hurt her, all in his attempt to achieve a long coveted win against her. Winning was nothing but a mistake to the mind of the 14 year old boy. They reached where the road splits into the two different directions they each have to take to get home.

"Don't forget what I said."

"I won't, here."

She tosses the orange juice to him and he stumbles as he awkwardly prevents it from falling to the ground.

"I'll put the ice, but at least keep your juice." Then she retrieved her bike and walked away before he could object.

"Nishikata really broke world records today, I never thought I'd see such catastrophic failure than I do right now." Takao's voice said through Nishikata's speakers. Dying 20 times in a row without a single kill in CS:GO was indeed failure, but not nearly as catastrophic as what he had done just hours earlier.

"Head's not in the game again." Another voice said, this time Kimura.

"What does it matter," Nishikata grumbled into his mic. "the concept of victory is meaningless as nothing is gained without the expense of another, that other being the loser."

"Damn buddy, you get poetic when you're down in the dumps, just rage quit and throw your keyboard out the window like a normal person." Hamaguchi said, causing everyone else to laugh.

Nishikata normally had excellent banter material, but this just wasn't his day, or foreseeable week, month, year, decade? His introspective introspection was cut off by Hamaguchi, who boldly proclaimed:

"I'm confessing to Houjou on her birthday!"

"Kimura, do you smell that?" Takao asked.

"Yeah, it's either a dying raccoon or a pathological liar."

"I'm not lying this time!" There was a thud, most likely from Hamaguchi slamming his desk with his fist. "I just need your support guys, she's having a party and it's open to everyone in the class."

"You're planning to confess to her in front of everyone in the class?" Nishikata asked.

"No of course not! I just need to time it right when we're alone and I could use some words of encouragement from my friends."

"We'll treat you to Yakiniku when you get dumped." Kimura said, and this time Nishikata laughed. Houjou's birthday party and the whole class is invited, Nishikata thought to himself. He wondered if Takagi had received the news too.