TO MY YOUTH, DEMON SLAYER

066. big fat twelve & big golden one

"I used to go here back when I was like . . . ten," you told Akaza as the automatic sliding door to the arcade opened slowly — the two of you entered upon seconds, and it was pretty rowdy inside, people screaming, some of them on the verge of tears as they lost.

"Me too." He curtly said.

You chuckled, "Why? You look like an arcade type of guy," now you were plainly assuming, but Akaza did look like he was an arcade type of person, "I stopped because I was trying to save up money — and after that my arcade phase died out."

Akaza looks at you for a brief second, clearing his throat, "The arcade was . . . my ex-girlfriend's favorite place to go. I stopped going after she passed."

Whew. This is awkward, you nodded mutely, not knowing what to say. But you did remember what Douma said back in the flower garden (about how Akaza's girlfriend left him), "I'm sorry, she must have been such a wonderful person."

The male raised a brow, the corner of his lips twitched up slightly, "She was."

It dawned upon you how this must be such a nostalgic place to be in for him, so you stopped your movement, "Do you want to go somewhere else? I'm sorry I suggested the arcade."

He shook his head, "It's not your fault and you didn't know about it — it's been a few years, I can't keep on letting it stop me," he mumbles out, ushering you to come after him as he begins walking towards the counter.

You complied, slowly walking over to the counter with the male. This felt like you were back in your younger days with your mother, you remembered racing a car with her and being upset whenever she beats you at it.

Loser.

"What do you wanna do first?" Akaza gave your shoulder a slight flick, snapping you out of your short trip down the memory lane.

He got the coins?

"You paid for it? How much was it?" He waved his hand sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it, you won't have the time when you start your new job," he said, "think of this as a present."

Out of appreciation, you could say nothing but to stare at the male — and he did the same thing back at you, blinking feverishly. You parted your lips to speak but stopped midway and raised up your index finger.

"Are you . . . okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just a little emotional, I guess." He shot you a small smile, cocking his head to the side.

"Wanna race? Winner gets whatever they want." Akaza pointed towards towards the all too well, you scoffed walking over to the racing game, taking a seat on the one on the far left, "You know, not to flex but I'm pretty good at this."

"Really? Last time I remembered, my mother hated me for always beating her." Obvious lie.

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"Wow . . . you— okay, that's a pretty good try (Name)." Akaza encouraged you.

He encouraged you after maliciously beating the hell out of you in the game, it was partly your fault for lying — but who in their right mind would admit to not being good at something?

"Good? I was butchered so bad. And mind you I have a big fat number twelve on my screen right now while you have a big, golden, number one."

Akaza lightly chuckled, "Alright then, wanna go again? Maybe you'd climb up a place or two." You shot him a look, shaking your head.

"I placed twelfth out of twelfth, what makes you think my rank's going to climb up the second time we play?" You told him with a sheepish smile, "And I lied, I've always been the one mad because my mother keeps beating me on these racing games."