Sunday. The arcade in the city was crowded with people.
The moment Ruslan entered, he hesitated, overwhelmed by the noisy game machines and shouts.
A few days ago, when Ruslan had been agonizing until his head felt like it would burst over the problem of going out with Sarka, the person he finally turned to for help was Baigarten Jung.
The only places Ruslan knew outside of school were the used bookstore, the general store that sold secondhand clothes, and the grand cathedral that worshipped the True God.
The first two were scenes that didn’t suit Sarka at all, and asking him to go to that last place with Angel’s Fang emblems carved everywhere would be less rude than slapping Sarka across the face.
After much deliberation, Ruslan decided to go find Baigarten.
When he asked for advice on places where two students could spend time in the city on the weekend without spending much money, Baigarten made a puzzled face.
Although he’d never said it directly, the fact that Ruslan didn’t really have friends close enough for that was something Baigarten had now guessed.
When Baigarten cautiously asked what was going on, after a moment’s hesitation, Ruslan honestly confessed that he’d arranged to go out with Sarka.
Baigarten looked at Ruslan with a complicated expression for a long while, but after lengthy thought, he took a small card from his inner pocket and held it out.
It was a membership card for a large arcade in the city, he said. With this membership card issued only to VIP members who paid annual fees, they could enter anytime without paying separately and freely use the game facilities, and even receive one free drink per day.
Startled by the offer to lend it, Ruslan firmly declined, but Baigarten quietly urged him, saying Sarka also had the same membership card so he wouldn’t refuse.
Stay in crowded places as much as possible.
Realizing what Baigarten was worried about, Ruslan eventually accepted the card with an awkward word of thanks.
Sarka readily accepted Ruslan’s suggestion to visit the city arcade.
After eating lunch and changing into going-out clothes, the two silently left school and headed for the city.
Unlike the previous outing, with Baigarten’s presence—who had constantly chattered away—now gone, a silent atmosphere flowed between the two boys as they walked the streets.
Although he’d suggested the outing wanting to get even a little closer to Sarka, now that they were alone, Ruslan couldn’t bring himself to speak, worried about what to say, whether he’d annoy Sarka or touch a nerve.
Every time he recalled how the previous outing had ended because of one slip of the tongue, the courage he’d worked hard to muster would plummet again.
In the end, the two walked in awkward silence for quite a while before arriving at their destination.
As they entered the arcade bustling with people, the clear silence that had been floating between them became blurred, buried in the noise.
Only then did Ruslan exhale the breath he’d been holding without Sarka noticing.
They succeeded in finding the place without getting lost since Sarka knew the location, but once they’d entered, it was a place where Ruslan had no idea what to do or where.
The surroundings were noisy with young people’s cheers, and each room was filled with unfamiliar machines for games he couldn’t identify.
Sarka glanced at Ruslan frozen by the unfamiliar scenery and explained the procedure in a calm voice.
Following what Sarka did, Ruslan showed his membership card at the counter, received a small badge, and followed Sarka in pinning the badge to his collar.
To Ruslan watching for cues about what to do next, Sarka gestured around and explained.
“Choose whatever game you want to play. If there’s no empty space because another team is using it, you can put yourself on the waiting list and go in when it’s your turn.”
Ruslan stole a quick glance at Sarka’s face as he quietly explained.
He’d worried about what to do if Sarka, who disliked crowded places, got annoyed at being brought to such a place, but fortunately Sarka’s attitude wasn’t cold.
Perhaps because this was a place where familiar faces from Esteban School who’d come out to play could easily be found, Sarka acted like a kind boy being considerate of a friend visiting for the first time.
Though he knew Sarka acting affectionate in front of people was all an act, Ruslan felt a bit relieved once Sarka took a cooperative attitude, at least outwardly.
Baigarten had probably intended this when he sent them here.
Sarka was silently waiting for Ruslan to choose a game.
Since I suggested this outing, today’s initiative is with me, right?
Looking around awkwardly, Ruslan finally found one game machine that looked familiar among the noisy crowd.
“That… darts, that’s darts, right?”
Sarka looked where Ruslan was pointing and nodded.
Ruslan asked cautiously, watching for his reaction.
“……Want to… play darts?”
Sarka readily moved his feet.
While Sarka explained the dart area’s rules, Ruslan kept stealing glances at Sarka.
Even in the quiet dart area empty except for them, Sarka’s attitude remained kind. He didn’t know what Sarka’s inner thoughts were, but at least Sarka seemed to have made up his mind to faithfully pay the price for losing the quiz game. In the direction Ruslan wanted.
Sarka encouraged the unfamiliar Ruslan to try throwing at the target himself as practice.
Standing side by side with Sarka throwing darts, it felt like ordinary friends who had visited an arcade on a leisurely weekend.
Ruslan thought Sarka’s voice, unusually free of coldness, seemed to seep softly into his eardrums. It was a strange feeling.
But as soon as the real game started, Ruslan realized that was exactly how far Sarka would accommodate him.
Sarka was monstrously good at darts.
Ruslan wasn’t that bad himself, but Sarka seemed to have no idea how to hit anywhere but dead center of the target.
The absurd score difference showed no sign of narrowing. Today’s Sarka was willing to treat Ruslan as a kind boy, but apparently had absolutely no intention of losing at games.
When both games ended in Ruslan’s crushing defeats, Ruslan became dejected.
Sarka throwing darts at the decorations above the fireplace before had really been because he had no intention of hitting the target.
When Sarka put his mind to throwing darts, Ruslan’s skill was absolutely no match.
Worried that Sarka might be bored with a game that had no tension at all, Ruslan stealthily watched for his reaction.
Perhaps Sarka had the same thought, because instead of starting a third game, he turned to look at Ruslan sideways.
“……Want to continue?”
At the languid question, Ruslan looked around awkwardly.
Craning his neck to survey the other rooms, Ruslan pointed at the arena occupying the largest space in the center of the hall.
“……What’s that?”
Sarka turned his head to check where Ruslan was pointing and replied.
“Bowling.”
“……Want to do that?”
When Ruslan asked watching for his reaction, Sarka put down the darts and readily followed Ruslan.
Though a bit nervous about a game he’d never played before, after rolling the ball a few times following Sarka’s explanation, Ruslan realized this game’s rules weren’t that complicated.
It was just a game where you rolled a large, heavy ball straight down the lane and the person who knocked down the most bottle-shaped pins won.
At first the ball kept falling into the gutter on the side, but observing Sarka’s form carefully and imitating it, Ruslan soon got the hang of it.
From the second game on, Ruslan could roll the ball with a fairly decent form too. Ruslan’s ball began rolling without curving and knocking down pins.
Sarka was quite good at bowling too, but not with monstrous skill like at darts.
After some time passed, Ruslan noticed that Sarka’s muscle strength and endurance weren’t particularly outstanding.
As they went on, the balls Sarka used gradually became lighter and his accuracy dropped. Sarka, who had seemed exhausted since coming back from his overnight home visit, appeared to have even less stamina than usual.
On the other hand, as Ruslan got used to the game and gradually relaxed, he now began posting fairly decent scores.
Though recently he’d been studying so much he hadn’t moved around much, Ruslan, who’d originally grown up running around in the mountains, was good at using his body and quick to learn anything.
By about the third game, the score difference between them had narrowed considerably.
Ruslan felt motivation welling up. He was just hoping that if luck followed him a few more times, he might be able to catch up to Sarka.
Sarka’s elegantly rolling ball knocked down the pins in a perfect strike.
Ruslan’s jaw dropped at the score gap that had widened again in an instant.
Staring blankly at Sarka turning around elegantly, Ruslan narrowed his brow with a suspicious expression.
“……Did you cheat?”
Sarka, who had been returning to his seat, smiled faintly.
The face that glanced back at Ruslan with an expression saying ‘you’d like to think so’ was annoying.
Still, thinking it was too early to give up, he was desperately trying to catch up to Sarka’s score.
Ruslan’s ball, which had clearly been rolling toward the pins, suddenly curved to the side, then dropped into the gutter just before touching the pins.
Ruslan whirled around without realizing it.
When their eyes met, Sarka, sitting with his legs crossed, said languidly.
“……I didn’t.”
Ruslan looked at Sarka with narrowed eyes, but Sarka just raised one eyebrow with an expression saying believe it or not.
Though he struggled desperately to the end refusing to give up, the third game was also Ruslan’s defeat.
To Ruslan feeling dejected at the score gap that never closed, Sarka asked languidly.
“……Want to continue?”
At the leisurely voice, Ruslan glared at Sarka. That stuck-up brat is really damn annoying.
Out of spite, Ruslan looked around, then quickly extended his hand to point at an empty room.
“Let’s do that.”
Sarka turned his head to check where Ruslan was pointing.
“Table tennis?”
“Yeah.”
Sarka readily got up and moved.
After exchanging the ball a few times at the table tennis table, Ruslan realized he’d made the right choice this time.
Sarka, with good reflexes, wasn’t bad at table tennis either, but he had an unexpected weakness.
Sarka would sometimes hesitate strangely and miss the timing to hit the ball back, and observing Sarka’s movements, Ruslan soon guessed the reason.
Sarka, a mental-type vampire, had reflexes accustomed to responding with mental abilities rather than physical abilities.
When a small, fast object came flying to an unexpected place, he was used to unconsciously trying to catch it with telekinesis rather than his hands.
Consciously controlling his telekinesis not to burst out and moving only his body seemed quite tricky for Sarka.
Watching Sarka barely hit back a ball he’d almost missed, Ruslan smiled slightly.
This looks doable, doesn’t it?
Ruslan, motivation blazing, began an fierce attack.
Sarka defended admirably, but after a few games, the ball Ruslan hit back vigorously finally bounced outside the table without touching Sarka’s racket.
In front of Ruslan clenching his fist and cheering, Sarka looked at the table tennis ball rolling on the floor with a displeased expression.
Becoming triumphant and grinning broadly, Ruslan boldly proposed.
“Want to make a bet on this round?”
Sarka, who had picked up the ball, looked back at Ruslan. After thinking briefly, Ruslan added.
“Loser gets the drinks.”
Sarka looked at Ruslan as if sizing him up for a moment, then readily nodded.
“Okay.”
The small ball bounced up on the table with a light sound.
Now having completely gotten the hang of table tennis, Ruslan enthusiastically swung his racket.
The small ball moved rapidly across the table making vigorous bouncing sounds.
The boys’ gazes moved ceaselessly following the small ball.
At both ends of the table, small panting sounds mixed with the sound of rackets cutting through the air.
Though it was a heated match, Ruslan lost his chance at victory while letting his guard down.
The moment the table tennis ball hit the racket at an angle and flew in the wrong direction, Ruslan let out a shriek.
When the ball finally fell to the floor and Ruslan leaned on the table groaning, Sarka smiled faintly.
Sarka, who had swept up the hair that had fallen disheveled, jerked his chin. Ruslan grumbled and put down his racket.
The two boys sat in chairs for a moment, cooling off their sweat while drinking the soda Ruslan had brought.
After emptying about half the soda bottle in one gulp and exhaling, Ruslan grumbled sullenly.
“……I could have won.”
Sarka took his mouth off the soda bottle with a thin breath, then asked quietly.
“……One more round?”
Instead of answering, Ruslan put the soda bottle to his mouth again and gulped down the remaining half.
After cheerfully tossing the empty bottle into the trash bin, Ruslan sprang up.
Sarka threw in his empty bottle after it, then stood and moved to the opposite side.
The boys faced each other and took their stances.
With a light sound, the ball bounced up again.
The match after their thirst disappeared was even more energetic.
Ruslan attacked desperately, but Sarka seemed to have now perfectly mastered how to control his supernatural powers.
When the table tennis ball Ruslan sent finally caught on the net and fell, Ruslan grabbed the table edge, flopped over it, and let out a groan.
Sarka across from him swept up his sweat-dampened silver hair and smiled faintly. Even in this situation, his face disheveled with sweat was handsome, which made it even more annoying.
Glaring at Sarka’s relaxed face, Ruslan struggled to straighten up and lift his chin, pretending to be composed.
“It’s fine. We didn’t bet anything this time anyway.”
When Ruslan pretended it didn’t matter, Sarka asked with a faint smile.
“……Then want to bet this time?”
Ruslan, who had been rolling up his sweat-dampened sleeves, glanced at Sarka. After being lost in thought for a moment, Ruslan licked his lips and proposed.
“……Loser brings dinner to the room.”
Sarka nodded.
The ball hit by the racket bounced up with a light sound.
The boys’ breathing began to quicken again.
That evening, returning to school, Ruslan grumbled the whole time.
“……Did you really not cheat?”
To Ruslan glaring at him as if still suspicious, Sarka smiled faintly.
“……You said you trust me?”
When you put it that way, there’s nothing I can say, you petty bastard. Ruslan let out a snort.
When Ruslan came up carrying dinner, Sarka was already sitting on the sofa in front of the table.
When Ruslan set down the tray, Sarka familiarly pulled over a plate.
Ruslan also straddled a chair and pulled over a plate.
The two boys began dinner in the pouring sunset light.
Unlike breakfast, which was always quiet and peaceful with sleepiness, the boys at dinner, having moved around a lot and grown hungry, enthusiastically emptied their plates.
Both plates were completely empty. The boys leisurely began emptying their dessert plates.
Ruslan, busily scooping up pudding with a spoon, glanced at Sarka plucking grapes one by one, then asked cautiously.
“……How was today?”
