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Usually, there was nothing Michinaga preferred more than the respite he’d rarely get in between hectic construction jobs and the Prix, the happenstance he wasn’t busy with anything and could live something resembling a relaxed life. Now though, with the end of this round drawing near, he couldn’t help but feel restless sitting in the silent lounge. About a week and a half had passed since the end of the Concentration round, and he hadn’t heard a thing. Radio silence on behalf of the DGP and its staff. What was the hold up?
He’d decided to drop by the lounge to get some answers from someone, only to find Giori was the only person there; wiping small jars, each full of powder of various colors. He seemed almost shocked to spot Michinaga, but he greeted him with a pleasant smile regardless, and Michinaga awkwardly made his way over to the bar. Any and all attempts to press the man for information regarding the next Jamato attack resulted in vague answers, nothing more than a simple “We aren’t able to answer that question, but patience is a virtue.”
The lack of answers nagged at his brain enough to make him want to leave altogether, but the absolute lack of anything to do meant he couldn’t quite find it in him to get up from the, frankly, uncomfortable barstool. So, he’d been sitting there for an untold amount of time, too stubborn to do anything but stare blankly at the counter as he was left alone with his own thoughts. Occasionally, he’d hear the sounds of Giori mixing something, or blending something else, but aside from a curious glance he didn’t give it much attention.
“Did you enjoy the last round?”
Michinaga’s head flies up at the question, staring almost scrutinizingly at Giori’s back. It wasn’t like him to converse with players without prompting… “What do you mean?”
“To switch partners so suddenly like that, it was an interesting move.” Giori’s voice trailed off, a soft, tentative hum slipping from his lips before he continued, “Was Mary not to your liking as a player?”
The question makes his stomach twist in an odd way, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares back down at his hands on the counter, loosely curled up into fists, “He was a threat. Someone willing to cheat, steal, lie, and attack other players… I didn’t want to keep someone like that around if I didn’t have to.” Especially not as a teammate; the last thing he wanted was to be associated with a scumbag like Morio.
Giori spares a small glance backwards, “Didn’t you team up with someone similar the round prior?”
Da-Paan … He inhales a short breath through his nose, idly cracking the joints in his fingers as he shifts in his seat, “That kid was going to lose regardless. All I wanted was Magnum, and if I didn’t team up with him he’d likely have attacked me. That zombification is a serious debuff, I didn’t wanna take any chances.” The fact that Naago had made do with it and gotten out alive was a surprise in and of itself, maybe even a first.
He hears Giori crack open a can, a chuckle only barely audible under the sounds of fizz and carbonation pouring into a glass and the whishing of what looked to be a small pile of whipped cream being laid on the top. The man turns around with a drink in his hand, some sort of cream soda. Deep purples at the bottom gradienting into a beautiful lavender, small bubbles swimming up to the top of the glass as a distinctly syrupy smell wafted its way under Michinaga’s nose. He tentatively takes the glass as it’s slid towards him, and looks at it with caution. It was a beautiful looking drink, no doubt, but…
“What’s this for…?” He slowly asks, staring at the glitter shining from atop the cream.
“Think of it as thanks for a nice conversation.” Giori responds simply, his usual patient smile taking its place.
Michinaga wasn’t quite sure he’d call those few interactions a nice conversation, but he didn’t have it in him to argue against a nice gift. He didn’t get these very often. He let his gaze fall back to the drink, ducking his head down a little to inspect the drink further, but didn’t dare taste it.. This… This was grape flavored, wasn’t it? He hated grape. It was sweet in a stomach-turning way, and the flavor always made him feel like he’d just consumed something he shouldn’t have.
He took a tentative sniff from the top, but aside from syrup and a light creamy smell, he couldn’t deduce what flavor it was. He really didn’t wanna have to try it. He was probably being a little immature, but he couldn’t help his picky tastes. The last time he’d tried something knowing he’d hate it, Tohru had made him try some gross amalgamation of cotton candy, ice cream, and sprinkles that had ended up making him so sick he had to take off work for a week. Tohru was always eating sickly sweet shit like that, frequenting stupid maid cafes and other cosplay resturants like that on the hunt for a cute girlfriend. Hell, this drink could have come from one of them.
“Ooh, what’s that?”
Again, Michinaga’s head flies up, just barely avoiding headbutting the drink itself as his eyes land on… Keiwa? When the hell did he get here?
“Have you heard of announcing yourself?” Michinaga hisses, oddly embarrassed to be seen with such a cutesy drink in his hands, but calms down a little when he sees Keiwa begin to tense and curl inward with that awkward smile he always seemed to have.
“Err, sorry, I only just got here.” Keiwa starts, a hand coming up to mess with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Is it just us three? Usually Ace and Neon are hanging around here…”
Honestly, the lack of their presence was even starting to disturb Michinaga of all people, so he’s glad he isn’t the only one who noticed. “They’re probably off doing whatever. It’s just us here.”
He watches Keiwa slowly nod and slip into the seat at the opposite end of the bar, his head coming down to rest on his hand, “So, what brings you here? You’re usually in the training areas, aren’t you?”
Nothing seemed more pathetic than admitting he had nothing better to do, so he wasn’t answering that question. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here all dressed up…?” He accents his question by giving Keiwa a once over, not having seen Keiwa in anything but the normal Prix uniform. A simple black blazer and slacks, a messily tied necktie, sleeve cuffs wrinkled and rumpled, likely from anxious fiddling… “Do you have a job interview to go to or something?”
Keiwa chuckles nervously, almost beginning to fiddle with his cuffs again before sighing and running his fingers through his hair with a bitter smile, “I just got outta one, actually. Bombed it.” He closes his eyes, leaning back in his chair and looking up to the ceiling. “ I’m just…avoiding going home. Once my sister catches wind that I failed another interview, I’m toast.”
He looks back to his drink, swirling his thumb around the side of the glass as moisture begins to build up under his fingers. What’s a guy like him struggling with job interviews for? Nice looking, kind to a ridiculous degree, surprisingly clever and quick on his feet when he needed to be, at least somewhat reliable… He seemed like the perfect candidate for some stuffy salaryman’s job. What, had the qualifications gotten even more strict?
For the first time in a long while, he was thankful he chose to go into the field he did. It was child’s play to get his job; just show up and work diligently and you’d get a raise in no time. He isn’t thinking much of the implications when asks, “Have you tried construction?”
“Construction?” Keiwa echoes back to him, looking over for a moment before crossing his arms and absentmindedly watching Giori go off to fiddle with something else behind the counter. “Nah, haven’t tried that. I, uh… I don’t know if I’m necessarily built for that kind of job.”
He scoffs, “There’s no such thing as being built for a job. All you need is the right mindset. I used to have someone on my crew who was worse off than you and he did just fine.” Tohru was just as unconfident when he’d first started, but after some guidance from the old timers he became one of the best on the team. He begins to smile to himself remembering the way Tohru would flop miserably to the ground after a long project, whining about how this job would probably kill him, before remembering who exactly it was he was with and forcing that thin line back onto his lips.
“Oh, are you a construction worker, Michinaga?” He’d originally taken the question as a joke, but knowing it was a sincere suggestion makes Keiwa smile softly, “Well, that certainly fits your image. What made you pursue something like that? Doesn’t a job like that wear you out doing it alongside something like the Prix?”
He takes his hand off the drink and wipes all the moisture off on the cloth napkin next to it, “It pays well and keeps me busy, really.” He responds, looking over to him, unable to continue his thought as he looks Keiwa in the eyes. When had he become comfortable enough with him to discuss his life outside the game?
“Is that really it? I guess that’s fair. I think I’d just need… Hm, I dunno- A goal, maybe?” Keiwa mumbles, tilting his head a little and tapping his chin as he looks down to the counter as if it had the answers he needed. “It’s easy to turn your brain off at a cubicle job and do what you’re told, but… Construction is a lot more hands-on, you know? Work enough and you could get a promotion, and maybe even have some creative say on what gets built? I think I’d end up wanting to do something significant on my own, but I don’t think I’m imaginative enough to think of something like that. I’d end up dissatisfied with myself.”
Keiwa smiles carefreely and turns to Michinaga, continuing his thought, but Michinaga can’t focus on his words anymore. His brain is running a mile a minute, and he has to look away from the smile Keiwa is giving him or he feels he might get dizzy. He continues wiping his hand on the napkin, but isn’t sure whether this moist feeling is from the drink or if he’s sweating all of a sudden. With the way his stomach is beginning to churn, and his heart rate is beginning to go up an almost alarming amount, he’s pretty sure it’s the latter.
He knows exactly what’s happening, and isn’t quite sure how to stop it. He hears Keiwa call his name, probably because now it’s obvious his attention is elsewhere, but can’t find his voice. He remembers all the times Tohru gave him this stupid fluttery feeling, understands just how similar he and Keiwa are turning out to be, and realizes just how bad that is for him to be thinking about considering Keiwa is his competitor in this game.
He’s watching the whipped cream melting and dripping down the sides of the glass of the drink he hasn’t touched, and is almost tempted to drink it regardless of how it’ll make him feel later.
“Here.”
Giori finally decides to speak, reminding the two that he’s there as he passes a similar drink to Michinaga’s over the counter, this one a vibrant green and white. It was likely melon, and despite Michinaga’s aversion to sweets, it was the only flavor he’d ever been able to stand.
“Oh, thanks, Giori! Michinaga, are you gonna drink yours? It’s kinda… you know, melting?”
Michinaga finally snaps back to reality, wiping at the sides of the glass with the cloth, “Uh, yeah. I will.” His tone certainly isn’t convincing anyone, though, considering Keiwa leans a little closer to get a better look at him.
“What’s the matter? Do you not like grape?” He asks, looking between their drinks. Grape wasn’t a favorite of his either, truth be told, but to see the drink get wasted…
Before Michinaga can answer, he sees Keiwa’s hand come up and pull his drink away, the green one taking its place. He looks over to Keiwa to protest, only to hear him thank Giori one more time before taking a large sip and…
Wincing?
“Eh? That’s-”
“Sweet potato. I wanted to tell you it wasn’t exactly grape or melon flavored, but…” Giori sheepishly piped up, looking between the two with a tentative expression, “how… how is it?”
“Sweet potato flavored cream soda…?” Michinaga mumbled, wondering what exactly Giori put into the damn thing to make it taste that way, or what made him think that was a good combination in general.
“It’s not… awful, but… I wouldn’t carbonate this.” Keiwa answers, taking another hesitant sip to try and get used to the flavor. “What’s yours, Michinaga?”
He looks back at the drink, almost fearful as he takes a deep breath and tastes it. Tart and sour is the only way he could describe this kind of taste. He, too, winces as he struggles to swallow it, “Is this lime?”
Giori is beginning to look like a kicked puppy now, almost hesitant to answer, “Er, lime and green apple, yes.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound bad. Here, let me see,” Keiwa smiles optimistically, happily switching the glasses once more and taking a large sip of the green drink before Michinaga can stop him. His eyes light up at the taste, and it’s clear that this drink is somehow more suited to his tastes. Michinaga can’t find it in himself to be so happy though, looking helplessly between the two drinks that Keiwa had drank out of. He couldn’t drink them now, that would be-! God, he didn’t even wanna think about it.
“Come on, don’t be scared, you might actually like it!” He feels Keiwa give him a playful nudge, and gives him a look so scary it makes Keiwa start choking on the gulp he was taking. He huffs out a heavy breath, looking back at the drink with little confidence. It wasn’t even about the flavor anymore, now he just wasn’t sure he wanted his lips touching something Keiwa’s just had. He squeezes his eyes shut, giving himself a small smack on the side of his head.
Just don’t make it weird! This is just a weird coincidence. He’ll probably lose soon and you won’t even have to think about him again. He thinks to himself, opting to ignore the way his stomach starts churning again the moment he thinks of Keiwa not being around to annoy him anymore. Just do it! He takes one more deep breath before biting the bullet and finally taking a sip of the stupid drink, letting it settle in his mouth for a second before slowly swallowing it.
Good.
It was weird, for sure, but… in a good tasting way. It wasn’t an in your face kind of sweet like cream sodas usually were, the taste was mellow. Just sweet enough to settle pleasantly on his tongue.
“...It’s not bad.” He mumbles, averting his gaze when he sees Giori’s pride as a chef flood back into his eyes. “Just warn me what it is before you hand it over next time.”
Giori simply responds with a gentle, “Of course,” before bowing politely and deciding to head back through the double doors behind the bar.
“Well, looks like Giori seemed to know us better than we thought.” Keiwa hummed, taking another content sip before taking a spoon from the silverware set beside him and beginning to play with the whipped cream like a child, “Hm~ Maybe a barista would be a fun job…”
Michinaga finally finds it in him to look back over, and he swears he sees Tohru there, smiling goofily over a nasty drink before he blinks and sees Keiwa is looking at him expectantly. He opts not to comment on his mentions of being a barista, instead looking back at his drink and beginning to stir it, “...I think I wanna build a landmark.”
Keiwa lets out a confused grunt for a second, before realizing what he meant and looking back at his drink, “A landmark? What kind?”
Knowing Tohru, he would have built something like a huge mech, or something else that would never get approved. “...I’m not sure. I just know I wanna build it in Narita.”
“Narita, huh? Well, regardless of what you’d wanna build, it certainly sounds like fun. I hope one day I can see it, whatever it ends up being.” Michinaga looks over at Keiwa’s stupidly shining smile, and wants to argue, but feels his face begin to twitch and has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep something from welling up.
Instead of responding, he takes a long sip of his drink.
“Actually, can I get another sip of that? It wasn’t that bad-”
“No.”