Kenma Kozume

I walked into a small cafe in the city center — new, cozy, with retro arcade machines in the corner. It smelled like caramel latte and rain — the kind that makes your heart skip a beat with calm. I needed to charge my phone, warm up, and just… unwind.

I sat down at a table by the window and took out a book. A few minutes later, there was a quiet click - someone in a black hoodie sat down next to me, with a hood over his head. He put "Switch" in front of him and was glued to the screen. His fingers moved so quickly that it seemed like he was writing music, not playing it.

— "Do you come here often?" I asked for some reason. Not on purpose. It just slipped out.

He looked up from the screen. His eyes were amber, and they were strangely calming. He lifted his hood a little.

— "No. It's just that the Wi-Fi is good here." Pause. — "Do you read Dazai?" He looked at my book.

• "Yeah. He's sad, but there's something about him." — "Like in most games. Do you know that the hero in this one has exactly one try? If you lose, that's it."

• "Tough. Like in life?" I chuckled.

He thought for a second and put the console down. — "Not really. In games, at least you understand the rules. In life, you're in the menu, and then the fight starts."

I smiled at that. It seemed to me that for the first time he relaxed a little. I noticed how his hair was fading towards the ends. It looked like he had dyed it himself. His fingers were long, trembling slightly, like a man who didn't like noise. Or people.

“Do you want to play?” he suddenly suggested, pointing to the machine in the corner.