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He stayed up late that night to battle the final boss. The final boss was a half-human who wore a purple cape with a cardboard mask and whose seiyuu sounded like he might have smoked a lot in real life, but given the nature of the game it suited the final boss too perfectly, so he paid it no attention because the game makers wouldn’t have wanted him to focus on these minor details, anyway. The game makers were terrible people for doing this to him, in that respect.
Halfway through the third stage his lightbulb started to flicker so he saved his game seventy-nine times within the span of three minutes and mashed the buttons on his controller hard enough for his thumbs to become permanently crooked. His phone buzzed at that moment. you’re awake, aren’t you, atsushi, said the text from Muro-chin. i know you’re awake. fall asleep.
He paused his game on a particularly ugly screenshot of the final boss doing a victory dance in platform shoes, rolled over to the other side of his bed and tapped the screen of his phone to call back. If he strained his ears hard enough, he probably could have heard Muro-chin’s dumb ringtone echo all the way down the hall.
The line clicked through halfway through the first ring. “It’s three in the morning, Atsushi,” Himuro hissed. “What are you doing.”
“I can’t sleep like this, that’s all,” he whispered. “I want Muro-chin to come sleep in my bed.” And then he hung up.
Two minutes later, the door of his room opened and a warm body slid under his blanket, cold fingers and toes curled up against his side. “We have a game tomorrow,” Himuro said, a small puff of breath against his ear. “Please fall asleep. Do I have to sing you a lullaby?”
He draped an arm over Himuro’s shoulder. “I wish I could beat the final boss,” he said. “His cape is so ugly.”
“Hmm… I wish I could too,” Himuro murmured into Atsushi’s chest, and then he closed his eyes.