Chapter 16

Guh-reat Balls of Fiyah

Ann's quivering, stressed smile showed no amount of amusement or mirth. Her eyes had been wide as saucers for the past couple minutes, herself barely able to speak the entire time she and Akira had been waiting in line for their food.

"Um, you okay?" Akira asked as they stood by a tree.

"It was just a slip of the tongue!" she immediately blurted out. "It was just a slip! I didn't mean to ask about that! I just thought of that one scene in Return of the Jedi where Luke Force chokes those freaky pig guard things! It was just a mistake!"

Akira looked to her with confusion for a moment before laughing. He did not just chuckle but laughed heartily, something Ann realized she had rarely ever seen in him. Even when they were on their date, he had definitely been pleasant but could still be somewhat closed off, reserved. But now, with eyes shut and mouth open wide, she saw her boyfriend – Oh god, she could say the word "boyfriend" now – laughing jovially. Albeit at her embarrassment, but genuine laugher nonetheless.

She made an indignant pouting at face at him, puffing out her cheeks and puckering her lips. Akira stopped laughing for a second to look at her, then laughed even harder. Ann, momentarily to her further dismay, lost her composure and laughed with him at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Then her magical superhero boyfriend snorted.

He covered his mouth so quickly and so hard that it sounded like he had slapped himself in the face. His own eyes widened with embarrassment as Ann continued to laugh, now more so at Akira than herself. After a few more gasping laughs, they finally calmed down enough to recompose themselves, with Akira having to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," he said, still chuckling. "I was gonna say that your reaction was really cute, but that pout just put me over the edge!"

Ann covered her mouth and sucked in a quick breath to try to calm herself. "W-wait, you snort!?" she exclaimed. "You actually snort when you laugh!?"

"Uh," Akira rubbed the back of his neck, "sometimes? Occasionally? A little?"

Ann beamed brightly, taking his arm and hugging it up to her breasts. "That is adorable!" she said excitedly. "Like, in a good way, seriously. I'm not making fun of you, it's just that, well, you're this super cool superhero and all, and that makes it so much… cuter!"

Akira made a noise somewhere between a laugh and an embarrassed sigh that only made Ann smile brighter. "Well, if you like it…" he said through an involuntary amused grin, "then I guess it's not that bad."

Ann shifted to the front of him and put a finger on his chest decisively. "You are not allowed to be embarrassed about it ever again. Understood?" She peered into his eyes with unquestionable authority, yet the light of affectionate teasing still shone in her sea-blue irises.

Akira's smile softened as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he accepted her demands.

Ann giggled again and hugged his arm once more, leaning her body against his toned muscle. "'Yes, ma'am'," she repeated. "Your mom raised you well."

They met each other's eyes, both pleased with themselves and each other for quickly becoming more comfortable in their relationship. Such comfort would be well exemplified, thought both, with a quick steal of a kiss – something they had been sorely deprived of since that lovely first night. Their smiles relaxed and they leaned toward each other, their lips subtly parting—

"Ahem," a young woman's voice said behind them. In their interruption, they saw it was Futaba casually munching on a rice ball. "Are you guys about done? I thought we were just stopping for a snack. I want to go see the rest of the festival, b-but…" she trailed off. "…I'd rather not go on my own."

Akira nodded then quickly gave Ann a peck on her lips, much to her pleasant surprise. "Now we're done," she said decisively. "Come on, kid, I think I know a spot you might like."

A quivering, excited smile broke onto Ann's face from the kiss, then Akira took her hand and led both her and Futaba down the road as if nothing had happened.

Futaba walked closely at Akira's unoccupied side; he noticed her getting closer to him when the road became more congested with people. She seemed stable for the moment, but her anxiety was definitely still getting to her. "W-where are we going?" she asked meekly. "It seems to be getting… pretty busy."

"It's gonna be a busy night," Akira nodded understandingly, "but you can stick with us, Futaba. Besides, all these people are nice. They're just here to have a fun time like you are."

"…you sure?" she asked in a near whisper.

Akira wondered what she meant with such trepidation, as if she did not trust the people around them. He could not say he was entirely surprised, but the fact she was questioning it, even subconsciously, worried him some. "I'm sure," he said calmly.

Futaba nodded. "Okay…"

Changing the subject, Ann asked, "So, where are we going, Akira?"

"Up by the pier. They have an arcade there I think Futaba might like. It's loud, but it's got games and extremely unhealthy snacks. That sound fun to you, Futaba?" She looked up to him, her eyes filled with worry and anxiety. Akira immediately felt bad for the suggestion. "Uh, if you don't feel like—"

"Yes," she interrupted him with a resolute nod. "Let's go. Please."

Thus, they went, arriving at the arcade after a few minutes of walking. It was a very classic looking pier-side arcade and activity center with quaint attractions that would be fitting for a fair setting. A robotic fortune teller, depicted as some caricature of an Arabian magi, was set next to the entrance, inviting passersby in regularly intervals to come and be told of their wonderous or perilous fortunes – the voice box was going out and the audio had become scratchy and distorted, with a couple words even skipping during the demo speech. "Charming," Ann remarked.

Akira said as he approached the entrance, "At this point, I'm thinking they keep that thing around for nostalgic reasons."

"Who would be nostalgic for it?" Futaba asked.

"The owner, maybe? I don't think I've ever seen anyone actually use it, now that I think about it."

Ann rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Why don't we try it? You want your fortune read, Futaba?"

Futaba looked to her with confusion then shrugged. "I… guess? Though I doubt it would be very accurate. It can't even talk right."

"C'mon, it's just for fun! Here, I'll buy it." They approached the stand and put the required coinage into the machine.

The animatronic nodded jarringly then said while a mystical whoosh sounded off, "I see grrrrreat fortune in your future! Though there may be adversity ahead, you have within you the spirit of the Arabian knights to surpass it, should you wish to reap its rewards!"

Futaba raised an eyebrow. "That could mean literally anything," she said dismissively.

"I think that's the point," Akira said. "It's like a horoscope."

"It's just supposed to be a little psychological pick-me-up," Ann explained. "To help you believe something good is around the corner. And who's to say there isn't something good coming your way, Futaba? It's been a pretty nice day so far. I mean, look at you! You're gorgeous dressed up like that, so you've already had one good thing happen to you today!"

Futaba looked at her yukata self-consciously but nodded. "I… guess you're right," she admitted with a bashful smile. "It's kind of hard to move in though."

"Beauty hurts, my dear," Ann winked at her. "But it's all worth it when you learn what adults mean when they say someone 'lights up the room'." She took Futaba by the arm and led her to the arcade's entrance. She looked over her shoulder and winked at Akira, beckoning him to follow her with a striking, confident gaze. Ann had always been a strong spirit since he had known her, but now, with her getting a chance to really let her hair down, she reminded him almost of a force of nature. Something to be observed with reverence at its power and beauty as the oncoming storm appears over the horizon and makes landfall with a mighty wind announcing its presence.

Ann pushed the doors open gracefully and strutted into the arcade with pride. Futaba stood by her, feeling incredibly awkward and out of place, especially when they started stealing glances from the other people, young and old, around them. Even the workers could be seen staring at the two young beauties gracing their establishment with their presence. And as if she were cutting a promo on the catwalk, Ann walked forward with head high, shoulders back, and bust pushed out, her lips pursed in a teasing yet impenetrable slight pucker. She looked around at all the men and women eyeing her, many of the men getting glares from the women beside them. God, I'm so fucking hot, she thought to herself, making a crooning giggle in her throat. After all, could it really be considered narcissism if it was just a fun mindset for a night on the town? And if it was completely right?

Futaba felt decidedly less confident in herself, but she still took notice of Ann's absolutely vibrant charisma that emanated from her like an aura. Futaba looked between Ann and herself, suddenly feeling extremely plain compared to her mature, elegant yet eye-catching figure and looks. I feel like a level two kobold next to some kind of goddess, she mused. Plain, unassuming, even in this dress. I've never worn anything like this before, but Ann looks like she was born in it, and for it.

Due to a combination of her reclusive lifestyle and her own genes she got from her mother, Futaba was quite petite, as she would nicely put it. Dr. Takemi sometimes preferred the term "underweight" though, a remnant of her self-induced malnourishment when her mother died and she fell into a terrible grieving depression. Even several years on, her body had yet to fully recover from her reduced eating habits, with Takemi telling her that it may have even stunted or delayed much of her puberty. When locked in her room with her video games, movies, manga, and wide collection of pornographic manga – all functioning as sufficient if waning distractions – such things could not matter less.

For much of her teen life, Futaba's world consisted entirely of her grandfather, Takemi, and herself. Neither of them cared about her looks, so why should she? But ever since she put on this dress, she felt more aware of her own appearance than she could remember ever being before. And to her surprise, it was not entirely unpleasant, foreign and overwhelming as it was. So many eyes on her made her feel uneasy, but she somehow knew that with Ann and Akira at her side, everything would most likely be okay.

Pulling herself back to reality, Futaba scanned the room for any interesting games to play. They had a wall of claw machines toward the back by the concessions counter, various arcade cabinets positioned along the walls and on the floor, and some traditional games like skeeball toward the other side of the arcade.

"Do you see anything you'd like to play, Futaba?" Ann asked her.

"Hmm… Oh, they have Galaga," she said. "I'm actually pretty good at that one," she pointed over to the dark space-themed machine a few rows down from them.

"Then let's go play it!"

Akira caught up to them as they moved over to the cabinet. "You buying this one or should we?"

Futaba shook her head. "It's alright, I have some coins on me. Do you… want to play with me?" she asked him.

"Of course," Akira smiled. "Let's take it for a spin."

They booted up the game and selected the option for two players and the game played its famous jingle before the aliens began to descend upon them. Futaba immediately showed great skill at the game, her ship darting around the screen with surprising precision and practice.

"Take out the green ones first!" she instructed Akira demandingly.

"I know that! I've played this game before!"

"Obviously not that much! My score is way higher than yours!"

"This is a cooperative game! We're not competing with scores!"

Futaba had taken to mashing the fire button with the tip of her finger angled downward onto it to let her wrist do most of the work instead of her hand. "Just try this! You can shoot faster!"

"Are you sure that's how the game works? It doesn't look like you're shooting much faster than me—"

"Every input counts! Get mashing, Dragon Boy!"

Ann snickered behind them. "I'll have to remember that one."

"Please don't," Akira groaned.

"What? It's kind of cute."

Akira shook his head in defeat yet did not feel too bad about it. The true defeat came when Futaba happened to absolutely destroy him in their game, accumulating nearly twice the amount of points he had.

"Oh, I'm on the high score list!" Futaba exclaimed excitedly. "Only eighth place, but hey! First try!" The leaderboard screen allowed for four letters, and with an inscrutably mischievous grin, she entered in "FUTA". Akira wondered what she was so pleased with herself about regarding the name.

"Great job, Futaba!" Ann congratulated her. The accompanying tight hug pulled Futaba out of her excitement but was a not unpleasant reward.

"You really kicked my ass," Akira said. "You were shooting them so fast; I could barely get a shot in."

"Mm hmm," Futaba hummed in agreement. "The arcade version is a lot better than the home version, but most of those skills carry over. Just takes lots of practice!"

"I'll have to brush up when I have the time." He held out his hand to her. "Good game, kid," he smiled to her.

Futaba shook his hand as tight as she could, which was barely felt by Akira, but he was flattered by the attempt nonetheless. "GG indeed, Dragon Boy."

By the time they had finished, a small crowd of young folks had gathered to see the beautiful young woman in three green yukata resoundingly win against the older teen, impressed at her skills with a hobby so contradictory to her outward appearance. They applauded her as she shook hands respectfully with her defeated opponent.

Futaba made a small yelp as she realized she was being watched, having been to engrossed in the game to notice at first. Akira immediately felt a protective instinct rising up within him, fearful that she may panic from the attention, but she seemed to steady herself in the face of so many strangers.

"Um, thank you," she smiled and waved awkwardly. "It's, uh, really nothing that impressive. I just like games, that's all!"

A young man's voice suddenly spoke up from the crowd, "Not impressive, huh?" A group of other young men parted, revealing a teenaged boy in a graphic tee shirt depicting a battle-scarred space marine holding up a futuristic pistol and baggy jeans, his hands resting in his pockets. That and his shrewd yet unimpressed glare under his long, shaggy black hair falling from under his baseball cap that read "SMOKED" in large font gave him an aura of superiority that immediately made Akira wary. "You got a high score on your first try. That's not bad," he said, his voice low, almost scratchy, but still youthful. He seemed about Futaba's age. "You've got some moves, girly."

"Well, aren't you a charmer?" Ann muttered, glowering at him.

Akira raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to Futaba. "And who are you?"

"The guy on top of that scoreboard." He took his hand out of his pocket and pointed to the arcade machine. The top of the scoreboard had the name "SHIN" next to a shockingly high number. "I'm Shinya, and I'm the king of this arcade." He looked back to Futaba, still seeming completely aloof. "And you're… 'FUTA'?" he smiled. "Damn, ain't that unfortunate?"

"It's called a joke, jerkface," Futaba snapped back. "What? You feeling threatened that I got in the top ten on one try?"

Shinya shook his head. "Not threatened at all. Just thought you might actually be a fun bit of competition for me for the first time in way too long. You up for another game, Futa?"

"It's Futaba," she glared at him, her lips puffing into a pout. "And of course I am!"

"Futaba," Akira interrupted her. "You don't have to take his shit. He's just being a jerk."

"Maybe, and if he's that starved for entertainment, then I'm happy to oblige," she smirked at him and cracked her knuckles. "Step aside, Dragon Boy," she pushed him over to Ann. "I'm gonna light up this little jerk."

Shinya chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Finally, someone with some guts and honor. Let's hope it wasn't first-timer's luck, Futa."

Futaba suddenly regretted putting such a name down for herself, but steeled her spirit and put the coin into the machine as Shinya did the same.

"Remember," he said, "this isn't just fun and games. I don't 'play' games, I win them."

"Oh, just shut it," Futaba retorted. "You'll be taking that big shot attitude running out of here to go cry to your momma when I'm done." Shinya made something like a quick, sharp choking sound in response, which Futaba found noticeably strange. But he straightened his baseball cap and turned his focus to the game.

The game booted up and the jingle sounded like a trumpeter signaling the start of a tourney. To Akira's surprise, there was little smack talk or banter between them for the first level – far less compared to how he and Futaba had conducted themselves. They were so focused that they barely verbalized at all, only making the occasional thoughtful hum or muttered curse.

Akira leaned over to one of the onlookers, who seemed to be invested in the competition. "So, who's the guy?" Akira asked him.

"That's Shinya, the 'King'. He's been conquering all the arcade games around here for the past six months, kicking everyone's asses left and right no matter the game. I heard he hasn't been playing as much recently because he got bored."

"That explains why he wanted to face Futaba so much." Akira crossed his arms as he watched the cabinet screen light up with constant aliens exploding.

"She your sister?"

Akira paused to contemplate an answer for a moment. "Let's go with that," he said.

"What?"

"Thanks for the info," Akira walked away, back to Ann.

"I don't really know what's happening," Ann said, "but her number is high. I think."

"It is, but Shinya is beating her. And by a pretty wide margin, it seems."

"That's not good. We might have to get her an emergency snack if she doesn't win."

"Gotcha."

Ann paused for a moment then chuckled in her throat. "We almost sound like concerned parents fretting over her."

"You might be right," Akira said without amusement, "but I'm still fretting nonetheless. She's taking a big step to do this, and I don't want to see anything go wrong."

Ann held his elbow with her hand, leaning against him. She looked up to his eyes and asked, "You are an only child, right?"

Confused, Akira said, "Yeah, that's right."

Ann smiled softly, nodding. "Could've fooled me," she muttered pleasantly.

Akira hummed in his throat in agreement. He always had a protective streak, going all the way back to when he had found Mona abandoned by the side of the road and immediately took it on himself to take care of him. But this was different; Futaba somehow seemed even more fragile than the kitten had been at times. Perhaps because she was a human and had experienced dreadfully human issues, even though he knew relatively little of it. Her mom was killed in a shootout and she had lived the last few years of her life isolated in either a yakuza-controlled penthouse or an actual yakuza stronghold. Akira was very thankful that he had this opportunity to help her experience the world a bit, but he still felt trepidatious, wondering how well she would really do in the event this other kid might get a bit too into the game.

After a few minutes of play, with only a few onlookers staying to watch, Futaba and Shinya were entering the tenth level, which was where Akira and Futaba had been defeated. The two were starting to get a bit more competitive, with Shinya goading her repeatedly, but to Akira's surprise, with Futaba pushing back just as hard.

"You could've gotten that one! It got away!" Shinya exclaimed in frustration.

"It was on your side of the screen! Why didn't you get it?"

"I was saving your ass from the other one!"

"That one was nowhere near me and you know it! It's not my fault you're on your last life because you got greedy!"

Shinya rolled his shoulders like he was psyching himself up for a boxing match. "Then we'll see how far I can push this last life, Futa."

"Screw you," she muttered, and they commenced the next level.

They fought honorably for three more levels, yet their desperation was becoming more and more apparent. Both Futaba and Shinya grew increasingly frustrated with each other, yet neither seemed to back down at all. Futaba gave as good as she got, never wavering when he would chide her. But somehow, their seemed to be some element of camaraderie to their fighting , pushing each other forward as much as they pushed against each other.

"On your left, dammit!" Shinya shouted.

"Got it!" Futaba maneuvered her fighter out of the way of an incoming divebomb and blew up the enemy as it ascended back toward its fleet. There seemed to be brief moments of cooperation amidst the stiff competition.

But alas, the final blow was struck against Futaba, and her final life was extinguished in a fiery 8-bit explosion. She grunted and slammed her fist onto the console, watching the screen as Shinya's fighter… suddenly suffered the same fate.

GAME OVER

Shinya lifted his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow as well as air out his sweaty hair before putting the cap back on. "Looks like I still take the gold," he said, though sounded rather tired. "Guess you just don't quite have what it takes, Futa."

Futaba clenched her jaw, her thumb tapping on the "Fire" button rhythmically. "Go again," she commanded.

"What?"

"Go again!" she snapped at him, her glasses falling slightly crooked on her face yet she seemed not to notice. "Now that I'm really warmed up, start it up again! I can do better!"

"Hey, I never agreed to a set!" Shinya protested, but Futaba immediately cut him off.

"Again!" Before he could say anything else, Futaba was already inserting the coin into the machine. "What? You need me to pay for you now?" she asked with the slightest perceptible hint of a taunt lacing her voice.

Shinya bared his teeth in growing agitation, ready to lay into her with swears and insults for her indolence. But something caught his tongue, the spirit of competition tightening his gut and compelling him to return to the ring of honor (an arcade game). "Fine then! I'll just kick your ass again!"

"Fine!" she snapped back. "I hope you didn't get tired out after just one game!"

Ann leaned over to Akira as their game started up again. "Babe, I can't quite tell, but, uh, are they becoming… friends? They still seem pretty pissed, but it almost seems like it."

Akira watched them fully focus on the game again, oblivious to he and Ann talking about them openly just a few feet away. They continued to engage in the occasional bickering cooperation, aggressively pushing each other to achieve their peak performance through choice chides and insults, yet none seemed to be outright hurtful. "I honestly think they might be," Akira said. "They don't really seem to be angry with each other. And— hey, did you just call me 'Babe'?"

"Um, yeah?" Ann said, an embarrassed blush appearing on her face. "Is that… bad?"

"No, no! It was just surprising. Surprisingly… pleasant. And cute."

Ann squeezed his muscular bicep with a slight pout. "Don't scare me like that," she muttered, obviously trying to suppress a smile.

"I apologize, honey."

Ann giggled and leaned against his shoulder. "You're forgiven."

Between the third and fourth level, Akira walked up behind Futaba and asked, "Hey, uh, you doing okay?"

"Yes, why?" she said tersely.

"Just wanted to make sure. Ann and I are going to want to check out the rest of the festival soon, so you think you could—"

"I am busy," she interrupted as the level started.

"She's busy, pal," Shinya added.

"I don't wanna leave you alone though," Akira insisted.

Futaba paused, still playing the game yet at marginally reduced efficiency, something Shinya immediately became annoyed by. She seemed to heavily contemplate the words "leave" and "alone", the implications of such dancing in the glint of her eyes. Slowly, she nodded. "After this game?" she asked.

Akira had expected her to merely tell him what she was going to do on account of being so enraptured by the game rather than ask for permission. He wondered if he had hurt her feelings or otherwise come across as harsh or demanding. "That's completely fine," he nodded and patted her on the shoulder. "Knock 'em dead, Fly Girl."

Futaba smiled brightly. "Got it, Dragon Boy."

Shinya asked, "What's 'Dragon Boy' mean?"

"You wouldn't get it," she replied, and that was the final word on the matter.

The game ended up being slightly shorter than the previous, lasting only eight levels, but their competitively cooperative spirit never waned. In fact, they seemed to get more in sync with each other, playing off each other's strengths and assisting each other with the oncoming alien assaults, whether they were conscious to it or not. When they finally both went down, Shinya once again took first place in scores, but by a much smaller margin than previously.

Futaba had no smack talk to give, merely taking a slow breath as if she had just finished a close race like Ryuji. She was about to be a good sport and congratulate Shinya on his well fought victory, but she was cut off by himself speaking up first.

Without looking at her, he merely said, "Good game." He spoke quickly yet quietly, his attitude inscrutable.

"Good game," she said back. "You're… pretty good."

Shinya looked at her curiously. "Uh, thanks. You… aren't bad either."

"You said that before we started playing."

"Well, I mean it now that I've seen you in action. Do you… wanna go again?" he asked. "Or play something else?"

Futaba seemed taken aback yet curious at his proposition. He seemed to her so vain, like such a pompous, fragile jerk. But now he seemed almost flummoxed, as if this had been the first game in a long time in which he had actual fun. "I… think I need to go with my, uh, brother," she said, though the final word held on her tongue awkwardly. She had only known Akira relatively briefly, but the way they interacted likely looked to everyone like an older and younger sibling, so saying it somehow felt like it simplified matters. "But maybe another time? I'll be around. And don't you wanna go to the festival too?"

Shinya's lips pursed like an invisible hand had just shut his mouth. "It seemed boring," he said tersely. "Mostly just shops this year." Even Futaba knew that was definitively untrue. "I was gonna just kill some time here and go home."

"Well, if you want to, maybe you could hang out with us?"

Shinya was doubly surprised by her forwardness, as was Akira and Ann. You might not have ever guessed she was a nervous shut-in the past several years if you saw her now, openly inviting a young man she had just met to attend the festival with them. He looked her over for a moment before straightening his already straightened baseball cap like a nervous habit. "Th-thanks, but I think I'll stick around here, at least for a little while. But… if I run into you again tonight, maybe," he muttered quickly.

"Oh, okay," Futaba shrugged. "Honestly, it does sound like fun to hang out here though. They have some good games."

"They definitely do. And I'm the king of almost all of them."

Futaba nodded and giggled to herself. "Well, I'll be around for a little while, I think. I'll have to come by and dethrone you sometime. I'm going to take at least one of those top scores away from you!"

Shinya smiled, starting as a smirk but turning to the hint of a genuine grin. "I'll hold you to that. And… maybe I'll grab a snack with you before I go home. I'm at least staying for the fireworks tonight."

Futaba nodded. "Mm hmm," she hummed. "Thanks again for the game. I'll… see you around."

"Yeah… see you."

Ann was nearly bouncing with giddiness at what she interpreted as a painfully adorable meet cute. She whispered to Akira in frantic glee, "They're gonna get married and have tons of kids and live happily ever after!"

Akira laughed heartily, trying to say, "Don't get too ahead of yourself, hon—" He interrupted himself with a snort as he kept laughing, and they both laughed harder. "Let them get through at least one date first, okay?"

"Oh, fiiine," Ann faux whined. "Ugh, and I swear I almost had her measurements for her dress guessed already!"

Futaba joined them as Ann forced her disappointed pout from her face and Akira finally regained his composure. "Sorry I made you wait," she said softly. She seemed lost in thought, only barely focused on her friends. Her eyes moved across the room, scanning for nothing in particular as if chasing her own disparate thoughts.

"You're totally fine," Akira said. "We're just glad you had fun."

"We're very proud of you," Ann smiled sweetly. "You did so well making a new friend so easily!"

"I… did," she muttered through a growing smile. "I actually made a friend, I think."

"You're a natural born pro," Akira nodded to her. "We're just glad you got to have fun."

"It was… fun," she looked at her shoes, shifting her weight awkwardly as she tried to hide her bashful smile. "I haven't played games with someone my age in a long time."

Akira looked over her shoulder to see Shinya watching her from afar, then pull the bill of his cap down when he noticed that he had been spotted. He moved along the wall of arcade machines until he was out of sight. That boy's got it bad, he thought. I almost feel bad for taking her away.

"Well," Ann said, "shall we get going and meet up with the others? They're probably all about ready to get dinner now, yeah?"

"Mm hmm," Futaba hummed quietly and put a hand on her belly. "I want to see the rest of the festival, but… I need sustenance."

"Then let's get you some," Akira said confidently. "We'll be meeting at the Funky Pelican. It's right around the corner."

A bevy of pleasant memories immediately flooded Ann's mind when he mentioned the cute tropical bar and restaurant. She instantly heard Margaritaville in her head, could taste the succulent margarita, and also tasted Akira's tongue on her own, making her suddenly wonder if she might be able to steal him away sometime this evening when the liquor had been flowing.

"Hey, Ann?" his voice suddenly snapped her to reality.

"Hmm!?" her gaze shot to him as her heart pounded from the surprise.

"You seemed to space out a bit there. You okay?"

"Fine, fine! Not a problem! Just ready to get that mar-gah-ree-tah!" she over enunciated, doing a slight dance with her shoulders as if her rambunctious behavior would remove her previous distracting thoughts from reality.

Akira smiled approvingly. "You're cute," he said, and she giggled in response.

"Get a damn room, you two," Futaba muttered, rolling her eyes.

To her slight apprehension, she found her thoughts trailing back to Shinya occasionally as they made their way across the pier toward the restaurant. A strange boy – a walking inferiority complex if ever there was one. But he was genuinely good at the game, and nice enough looking. She filed the thought away to be revisited later, should the time ever come.

When they arrived, they saw a long line out the front door, not to Akira's surprise. He scanned the area for any of his friends, wondering if they had already arrived, and hopefully put in a reservation already. To the right of the building, he saw Ryuji walking out from the pier's smoking area, putting a cigarette in the public ash tray as he blew out one final puff of smoke. They waved each other down and congregated in front of the entrance.

"You and Haru have fun?" Akira asked.

"Yup," Ryuji nodded with a casual yet confident smirk. "It was actually pretty nice. We met back up with Yu and the gang and they were coming out here. They said you had taken Futaba to the arcade, so they figured it would be a good place to meet up." Ryuji looked up at the sign over the door. "This isn't the place you took Ann, is it?"

"That it is. It's a fun spot, especially during the festival. If you wanna party and listen to some good music, this is usually the spot."

"That's what your buddies were sayin'." He looked over to Futaba. "You have fun, kid? Won any cool prizes?"

"Uh, no," she shook her head. "I just played Galaga for a bit. And got our fortunes read."

"Oh yeah? What did it say?"

"That we could have some fun opportunities in the future."

Ryuji cocked an eyebrow. "Fun opportunities for what?"

"I don't know, that's all the robot genie guy said."

"Robot genie," Ryuji muttered, nodding as if that meant something to him. "You can never trust those robot genies, I'll tell you. That's some bad juju right there. Oh well," he shrugged as if his previous statement had not been of questionable sanity. "Let's head on in, guys. I think Rise used her former popstar clout to get a table without waiting."

"Sounds like Rise," Akira muttered, and they followed Ryuji inside.

Ann had figured the Funky Pelican was busy when she came with Akira on their date, but this was something else entirely. The whole place was abuzz with people, wall to wall foot traffic making navigation extremely difficult. Futaba was obviously put off immediately; Ann could barely hear herself think over the raucous patrons, so she could hardly imagine what the poor girl was feeling. She had immediately grabbed onto Akira's sleeve as they waded through the crowd, with Akira standing up straighter, his chest slightly puffed out and his shoulders back as if preparing to defend Futaba from some unseen foe, perhaps even her own anxiety. Ann felt a renewed thankfulness that she was dating such a caring and protective man.

When they finally reached their table, which was two tables pushed together to accommodate the group size, near the stage which had no musicians performing at the moment, Futaba was wary to sit down, still looking around the area nervously as all the sounds distracted and disturbed her. Akira pulled out a chair for between himself and Haru, assuming having such a soft and kind woman next to her may help alleviate her anxiety. She sat down shakily, but Haru flashed her a bright, almost motherly smile, immediately recognizing the anxiety she was feeling, and she seemed to calm some. Akira made sure to sit himself next to her in case it may further alleviate her anxiety.

Their friends had just been served their first drinks and were already starting to party, the couples getting a bit cozier with each other and each starting to raise their voices more than needed over the loud crowds. The high energy of the festival goers seemed almost infectious, encouraging them all to cut loose, as it were. Futaba seemed yet uncomfortable about the loudness, herself starting to develop a headache on top of the minor but present tightness in her chest, but Akira kept an eye on her, making sure nothing got too overwhelming. Nanako, who was contentedly drinking a milkshake, even offered her a sip since they both were too young to drink. Futaba took it courteously, and promptly announced she would be ordering the same thing.

The group conversation quickly transitioned to reminiscing about previous festival experiences, narrating many misadventures and sentimental moments from their youth.

"Remember when we all got to perform at the festival for our third year?" Rise asked excitedly, taking a long, exuberant sip of her margarita. "That was one of my best sets ever! Even Akira killed it on lead!"

"Hey, Naoto was the one with improvised keyboard solo. She absolutely killed it on the end of the last song. It was, like, thirty seconds long, right? Just of her riffing along with Kanji's drums and Yu's bass to back her up."

Naoto smiled rather adorably as she hid her face under her hat. "I was… feeling the music, as some call it," she muttered amidst bashful giggles. Kanji pulled her into a hug, smiling brightly and bestowing on her dozens of compliments and verbal affirmations while the rest of the friends could not help but smile at the adorable display. Even Futaba giggled to herself. Haru whispered something in her ear Akira did not catch, and the younger girl burst out laughing joyfully. Akira figured he might finally be able to relax if she was becoming so comfortable.

Such benevolent conversation continued for some time as the drinks began to flow. The couples started to grow increasingly cozy with each other, with Rise leaning so much against Yu that she was nearly laying on top of him as she sipped her second margarita. Or third. Some part of her told her it was her third, but she could not quite be sure.

Yosuke had his arm wrapped completely around Chie as she ranted about some martial arts movie, or perhaps movies. The details, growing increasingly slurred as she knocked back her beer, seemed to conflict as if they were taken from multiple movies running together in her mind as fluidly as the alcohol flowing down her throat.

"Then the goddamned, uh… um, villain! Villain goesh fugging boom when the guy comes out with two pistols and goes pshoo! Pshoo! Pshoo! It was fuggin' great! I think I made Yoshuke watch it, uh, twice in theaters?"

"Three times," he corrected her his hand gently scratching her belly.

"Oh yeah, we did shee it three timesh. Geez, I forgot about that third one."

Makoto took in the sight of the happy couples, themselves having taken up the focus of the dinner outing. The liquor had made them more relaxed and openly touchy than normal, their inhibitions having been left behind a good two orders ago. Even Akira and Ann, the newest christened couple of the bunch, were growing significantly more lax with each other as the evening went on. The display, almost like something out of a classical painting of the youthful decadence of the Renaissance upper class's carefree and spoiled heirs, put to mind something Makoto rarely thought about in her busy, studious, professional life: she had never experienced such a thing before.

It was not simply for her position as an overworked and under-supported student council president that she unfortunately was robbed of the joys of teen love, but also for her abrasive and – some might say – excessively mature personality that barred her from much sympathy or empathy toward those her age. She cared for them, truly, but more so as a dedicated manager would care for her subordinates within the company, though sometimes it felt more like a daycare worker wrangling the rambunctious, utterly helpless, children as they tried their damnedest to uproot what little order she was able to build up among their ranks. Therefore, to her surprise with a hint of wistfulness mixed with self-questioning, she felt a pang of jealousy in her gut like a pinprick. Makoto told herself it must simply be the alcohol and counterintuitively took another swig to distract herself from the invasive thoughts.

For a moment, she wondered if her sister had ever experienced such feelings, being significantly older than her and having never coming close to getting married, only briefly having a relationship with a classmate back in high school, at least as far as Makoto was aware. But her logical, studious mind told her that such conjecture was unproductive at best, and she took another drink to further distract herself from the discomfort she told herself was from the drinking.

Time passed slowly, hazily, yet also in a blur as the liquor flowed. The atmosphere seemed to be rubbing off on even the younger ones, both Futaba and Nanako getting more raucous along with the older ones partaking in adult beverages.

At one point, Ann sat up from leaning against Akira and glanced across the table at Rise with a mischievous glare, smirking. Yu noticed but Akira did not, but Akira did see his eyebrows raise when Ann suddenly started tugging at the collar of her yukata.

"Ugh, damn, it is so hot in here," she groaned. "And I honestly thought I had the right size for my yukata this time! Ugh, I think they've gotten bigger again."

Akira's head snapped over to look at her in disbelief.

Rise smiled back at her with the same mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, I'm sure it's such a problem for you!" she said with exaggerated diction. "I'm happy that I'm pretty petite – it helped with my performances – but it must be such a pain to try to find the right size for cute clothes when you're carrying all that around."

Yu looked over at his own girlfriend, telling himself that the heat flooding his face must just be from the alcohol. Akira was having the same reaction.

"Tell me about it," came Haru's voice from the other end of the table, pulling the collar of her own yukata. "You think yukata are bad, try looking for cute wedding dresses when you're like this! I swear, the price goes up right along with your measurements."

Ryuji was the next to raise an eyebrow. "What the hell is happening?" he muttered.

Realizing that the other girls were catching on to their little game, Ann said, "But I'm sure you'd look majestic regardless, Haru! It's just a bit harder to find the right style!"

To even greater surprise, Naoto then spoke up, "I've been concerned about the idea of that as well, admittedly." She spoke with the same proper diction she always did, but the barest hint of flirtation colored her tone as she leaned against her boyfriend. "It certainly was quite the… strange experience growing up with them when your personality is naturally more masculine."

"It just makes you unique, Shirogane-san," Makoto spoke up matter-of-factly yet reassuringly. "Simply another great additive feature to your personhood."

"When I finally learned to accept that," Naoto replied, "it certainly took some weight off my shoulders. Though obviously not all of it," she chuckled, and the other girls laughed in unison.

"Uh, hon?" Kanji asked. "Have you had a bit too much to drink?"

"It's simple conversation, dear. Nothing to be concerned about."

Yu was so taken by the "banal conversation" that he nearly jumped out of his seat when he realized Akira had small blue sparks emanating from his shoulders. "Uh, Akira?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Akira said, his eyes darting between his best friend and his girlfriend as she continued to very obviously adjust her collar.

"I think you're… in Heat."

"Hu—what?" Akira looked at his shoulders and frantically patted them down like he was suffocating a real flame. It was all his addled brain could think to do at the time, and whether it was from the patting or his own sudden distraction, the sparks finally dissipated. Ann burst out guffawing at the display and the implication. "Please do not say it like that again," Akira muttered to Yu in embarrassment.

"What did he say again?" Ann pressed him and pressed against him. "That you were 'in Heat"?

"Oh my god," Akira rubbed his temples, but was also trying to stifle an awkward laugh. "I would ask you too to not say it like that but… I get the feeling that would be futile."

Ann giggled girlishly. "You're a smart one, babe." In Heat, she thought. Damn, that's kind of hot.

So rapturous were they amidst their revelry that they did not notice the two familiar older adults being seated a few tables away from them.

Anri and Takuto had thought it potentially a fun evening excursion to get dinner at the festival, but both were craving something a bit more distractingly fun and exciting than the typical food stands, which guided them to the Funky Pelican as well. Having been quite some time since they last ate at the restaurant, they were excited to kick back and relax for the first time since Akira had returned, and perhaps since he had left in the first place. Takuto had tried to secure some bar seating as an extra special treat for himself and his one true love, but unfortunately the bar was full to capacity with a generously estimated twenty minute wait, so they settled for normal seating after an actual fifteen minute wait.

They saw the young'uns living it up as they were seated, both content to see them actually happy after everything that had been going on. Anri quickly ordered a glass of rum with a shot of coke and Takuto ordered an extra large daiquiri for them to split with a side of nachos.

"They're having fun," Takuto remarked, looking toward Akira and his friends as the girls simultaneously cheered for something they did not catch in extremely high-pitched voices.

"They sure are," Anri nodded. "It's good to see them in high spirits. I was hoping the festival would do them some good. And don't the girls just look so beautiful? Yukiko got them all dolled up with yukata before they arrived."

"And she did a bang-up job, that's for sure. That whole table is practically glowing."

"Lucky boys, aren't they?" Anri remarked with a teasing, knowing grin.

"Damn straight," Takuto nodded, returning the same smirk. "Our boy especially won the lottery, I think," he nodded toward Ann. Her blond hair seemed to radiate like the sun under the overhead lights.

"We still don't know her too well," Anri said, "but she seems like a real sweetheart. The circumstances of their meeting were… difficult, I guess. But you would never know it just looking at them." She glanced their way. "They're getting pretty cozy over there. She's practically draped over him."

"Do you have an issue with that?" Takuto asked, looking his way over his shoulder. Ann indeed was leaning against him quite brazenly, her chest pressing into his arm.

Anri shook her head with a light chuckle. "They're adults, dear. Let them have their fun. We were the same way at that age, weren't we?"

"Yes, dear," he nodded as their drinks were brought to the table. They clinked their glasses together in toast of nothing in particular – life, happiness, health, the prosperous and loving future of their son? All of the above, so much more, and nothing at all specifically all at once. Such an efficient toast, it was, covering so many subjects with a single tap and a single drink of their beverages.

"I'm just glad we haven't had any incidents this evening yet," Anri mused after a moment. "Kind of hard for me to relax though, like I need to be prepared for it anyway."

"Didn't the massage relax you?"

"It did, but you never know."

They drank for a few more minutes, making banal conversation as Takuto tried to divert her attention from the dangerous possibilities of the future to the calm of the present. Soon after, he noticed the distinctive blush of alcoholic influence on his wife's strong face, her demeanor becoming slightly more relaxed and softened. He too was experiencing the same buzz when he got an idea.

"You think the kids might like a show?" he asked.

Anri giggled, though nothing he had just asked was particularly funny. "What do you mean?"

"You know. A show."

She looked between her husband and the vacant piano on the stage. "You're not actually thinking…"

"C'mon, it's just like back in college! You and Wakaba always liked that number!"

"Takuto, I don't think—" She cut herself off when she noticed the vibrant, excited glint in his eye, visible even through his glasses. She sighed and waved a hand like a dismissive queen, though her excited and amused smile could not be abated. "Do as you must, my dear," she said. "I'm sure the kids would at least find it fun to back you up."

"Alright!" Takuto got up from his chair and made his way over to the young adults' table. "Hey, guys!" he interrupted a conversation he was not aware was becoming increasingly crass, primarily thanks to Ryuji, Yosuke, and Chie. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need some help."

"Hey there, Doc!" Yukiko waved from across the table, seeming completely slouced as she swayed side to side with an inebriated, yet entirely felicitous, smile. "Fanshy sheeing you here!"

"What are you doing, Dad?" Akira asked, not thinking to take his arm from around Ann's back, who was lazily leaning against him as she crunched a nacho. "What do you need help with?"

"You kids wanna play a number with me?" he addressed the table.

Everyone looked to him with dumbfounded expressions. Yosuke asked, "You mean, like a musical number?"

"Of course! We can liven up the place! C'mon, the owners know all of you! Let's have some fun!"

The girls cheered, or rather made some strange combination of a cheer and a screech, at the proposition. "Play a song, piano man!" Rise cheered.

Yusuke, who seemed entirely unphased from the alcohol despite drinking just as much as anyone else, raised his hand and said, "I am quite versed in the guitar, if you would like some accompaniment."

"Excellent," Takuto gave him a thumbs up. "Kanji, Yu, Yosuke, assume your normal positions. Akira, would you like to sing?"

He shook his head through a smile. "I'm pretty comfy here, Dad," he glanced at Ann. "You go on and put on a show!" Akira then glanced at Futaba, who seemed extremely interested in whatever his dad happened to be planning.

"If you insist," said Takuto. "Boys, on your feet! I know you all know the song, so break a leg, everybody! Places!"

"I just ordered my burger though," Kanji muttered.

Naoto gave him a light but decisive shove, nudging him out of his seat. "On your feet! They need percussion, damn you!"

Kanji shook his head and sighed. "Oh, fine! Just one song. And don't eat my whole burger by the time I get back!"

Naoto put a hand over her heart and smiled sweetly. "Do your best, my love," she cooed rather uncharacteristically for herself. Kanji was briefly stunned by her cuteness, a trait often greatly amplified whenever alcohol was involved and her inhibitions were reduced. With a sudden spring in his step, he joined the others on stage as the remaining friends and some noticing patrons cheered.

Takuto took a seat at the piano, lifted the covering to reveal the beautiful ivories before him, and cracked his knuckles with the precision oft seen in a concert pianist. He stretched his fingers as the other boys picked up the available instruments and said something to them the others at the table could not hear. The boys nodded to Takuto, and Yusuke quickly went about tuning his guitar before turning on the amp. Takuto adjusted the microphone positioned next to the piano and Yosuke did the same at the front of the stage. Some feedback – at least the mic was certainly hot.

A brief pause, a silent count of the beats in their heads, and then the sudden rich, flaring striking of chords.

And Takuto proudly sang into the microphone,

"You shake my nerves and you-a rattle my brain!" A trill of the piano's chords again. "You bet your love would drive a man in sane." The bass matched his chords. "You broke my will…" Drums in sync with their hits. "… but what a thrill."

And everyone in the restaurant shouted, "GOODNESS GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIYAH!"

The famous, jaunty tune then played on in full swing, the whole band playing in synchronization as if they had rehearsed it many times previously. Such was the skill of the band members, their passion for the music apparent in their energetic playing and dancing. Takuto proudly led the vocals as he played the tune from muscle memory while Yosuke would provide accompaniment on the big hits.

Only moments later, the girls were on their feet dancing around the table and in front of the stage, with Ann and Rise being the most immediately exuberant. Akira and Ryuji quickly found themselves surrounded by beautiful dancing women, their yukata flowing around them as they fully let go of their inhibitions, and they were not ones to complain. Instead, they merely danced along with them, not caring if anyone saw.

Akira doubly checked if Futaba was having fun, but she had seemingly fallen in with Kasumi and Haru, both of them dancing proudly with her. Her movements were stiff and somewhat embarrassed, but as the song continued, she found herself dancing more jovially with everyone else. This warmed Akira's heart, letting him feel more comfortable letting himself enjoy the moment as well.

So much fun was it to dance to the music that he did not even realize that Anri had snuck into the group and made her way over to Futaba. Perhaps out of some familial conviction, or some motherly instinct, she came up behind Futaba and started dancing with her as they watched the band play with such energy it might be considered foolish or embarrassing, though no one could have possible cared less. When Akira noticed this, he felt the weight on his shoulders lighten even more.

"Come on, baby! You drive me crazy!"

"GOODNESS GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIYAH!"

Yusuke then broke out into a raucous solo, his normally sophisticated demeanor alleviating as even he let himself be swayed by the music. He dipped his guitar and raised it with the quickening notes, a proud and childlike smile plastered on his face. Yosuke came up to his side and leaned against his back, supporting each other like rockstars as they both played. Takuto's piano playing only grew more exuberant with them, any wrong notes being drowned out by jazzy slides and fills.

"I SAID-A GOODNESS GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIYAH!" A big hitting finish, a sigh and an exaggerated thank you from Takuto, and the whole crowd cheered excitedly. The band cheered and bowed to their adoring fans; Yosuke blew a kiss out to the many women watching them. Yu and Yusuke were more comfortable waving respectfully, but with a hint of self-satisfied smugness. Kanji, however, was cheering and roaring like he had just played a heavy metal set, which was rather befitting of him and garnered many more shrill cheers from the girls as well.

Everyone wondered how this night could get any better, and if it would last. But perhaps fate would smile on them that night, and a few more hours of blissfully forgetting their many troubles lay ahead of them. How Anri prayed for that to be so; the younger ones had forgotten so thoroughly that it never crossed their minds.

[Reviews are always encouraged. Special thanks to my beta reader and editor, KweenPotato.]