Chapter Text
“It boggles the mind to enumerate what your stats might be, Miss Ogami. They would be off the scale!”
Sakura raises her eyebrows. Hifumi’s reedy voice is a minor shock as it interjects into the pleasant silence they’ve been sharing. It’s not an unwelcome change of pace from the steady scrape of the stylus against his tablet. Hifumi likes the sound of his own voice. As his friend, Sakura is bound to like it, too.
“May I speak freely?” she asks, hoping the question will not answer itself. “Or will that disturb your work?”
“Oh, sure!” Hifumi chirps. “I’ve got the face down already. It’s all about those arms now!”
Sakura smiles at his enthusiasm and turns her head to look at him. Meanwhile, she flexes the muscles in her arms, accentuating the lines of them for his study. Her body is in profile to him, standing in a lunge with one arm on her hip and the other extended, as if holding something. “My statistics are measurable,” she explains. “I am 192 centimeters tall and weigh 99 kilograms. And my chest measures –”
“Not your vitals, Miss Ogami!” Hifumi rolls his eyes. “I speak of role-playing games. Your attack power, your defense, your speed!”
“Are you not drawing me for your comics?”
“I am a fan artist. Mixing media is what I do best! And forgive me for saying so, Miss Ogami, but you inspire me across all media. I picture you clearly in my RPG party, carrying us with physical damage.”
Sakura does not like video games. The fine motor skills required for them are not her strong suit; her large fingers fumble with joysticks. But beyond that embarrassment, she simply can’t derive enjoyment from watching a weightless sprite perform acrobatic moves that defy physics, when she could be the one doing that herself. Just the thought makes her feel restless. She cannot fault Hifumi for loving games, for what he lacks in physical formidability he more than makes up for in his zest for imagination, something which Sakura herself cannot claim to possess and thus admires greatly. But he has chosen a topic for conversation to which she fears she cannot contribute.
It is a good thing Hifumi has enough inspiration for them both. She wonders if he even realizes how much he’s speaking. “Mr. Hagakure could support you with magic attack, of course. But for all the power he professes to have, support may be all he can contribute.” Hifumi isn’t even drawing now; he’s waving his stylus in the air as if conjuring the world he’s describing before him. “And naturally, our healer would be Miss Asahina! With her enthusiasm, she could grant us epic buffs. And what a delight it would be to let her patch us up. Am I right, Miss Ogami?”
“And what is your role on this team?” interjects Sakura. She surprises herself with her own curtness, and the fact that she has said anything at all. She supposes a nerve has been struck. Still, her curiosity has genuinely been piqued - Hifumi referred to it as his party, after all.
Hifumi puffs his chest out proudly. “I am the tank, of course! My thick exterior provides high natural defense, and with my cunning powers of persuasion, I can goad our enemies into assailing me rather than our more vulnerable party members!”
The stylus is now completely discarded on the table as Hifumi pantomimes his hypothetical acts of heroism. Sakura doesn’t break her pose. She anticipates him coming back down to Earth eventually, and she doesn’t wish to ruin his point of reference. For now, she only smiles. She knows for certain that Hifumi’s imagined combat skills are not grounded in reality. But that does not make it any less entertaining to see him run wild with imagination.
He gifts her a finished copy of his latest creation a few days later. She is amused to notice the silhouettes of Hina and Hiro in the background of the scene; although simplified and sketchy, it is unmistakable whom they are supposed to represent, which is impressive enough on its own. But the detail on the two figures in the foreground is stunning, as well. Sakura is striking the pose that is now burned into her muscles, and wielding a sword. Next to her, Hifumi himself holds out a shield to protect the both of them. The image is fantastical, unreal. But it communicates the camaraderie Hifumi feels with her much more than he ever could convey with his words. Sakura knows she will treasure it forever.