Akira couldn’t understand where he went wrong. All he remembered was challenging you to a rhythm game to impress you, but now, he was sitting against the arcade machine. His knees were pressed to his chest, and his hands held his spinning head. The neon lights of the arcade danced over his bewildered expression, casting colorful shadows that mirrored the chaos of his thoughts.

“You okay there, champ?” you asked, unable to suppress a grin as you offered him a hand to stand up.

He looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright lights. “I…I thought I was good at this,” he whispered before sighing heavily and taking your hand.

You chuckled as you helped him to his feet. “You are good, Akira. Just not as good as me.”

The two of you grab a drink, and almost like a light switch flip, Akira’s flirty nature re-emerged. Even then, you could tell his ego had taken a massive hit. “Has anyone told ya that you look cute dancing?” he teased with a wink.

“And you looked cute, all dizzy and defeated,” you laughed.

“At least I looked cute while losing,” he chuckled, shrugging.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and games. Each loss made Akira more determined to win at least once. But no matter the game, you always seemed to be one step ahead, which, instead of frustrating him, only seemed to make him more fascinated by you.

As the night drew to a close, Akira leaned in with an infectious smile. “Next time, I’m choosing the game. Maybe something less… rhythmic.”

“Deal,” you agreed, shaking his hand. “But just so you know, I’m pretty good at all arcade games.”

“Yeah? Then, how about challenging me to a song battle? Think ya can win that?” He playfully asked.

“Give me a few months to learn how to sing, and I will accept your challenge,” you cheekily replied.

Akira laughed and pinched your cheek. “Then, six months from now, I’ll challenge ya. You better be ready.”