Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kiku’s new schedule is as exciting as oatmeal. You can add fruits to the bowl, but it doesn’t make the oatmeal taste any better. It’s wake up, shower, skip breakfast, go to lectures, study, eat an unremarkable lunch, go back to class, study, and do homework, then sleep. All the days since he started his freshman year blur, and it's barely been three weeks.

It's the fall semester, and now would be a good time to figure out a change. Kiku was always a workaholic—he supposed he could blame his family for imposing the belief that good grades equal praise and honor—but the very few times he catches himself not studying or cramming, he plays games on his phone. RPGs are his favorite, but most of the time, he barely takes twenty minutes out of his time to stay on his phone.

In the small windows of free time, he might read a webcomic, then dream of starting his own series. The drawbacks are that he has no time to draw and orchestrate a competent story and panels. He’s been a good artist, sometimes doodling in the blank margins of his notebooks. However, he also has no clue what story he could tell without retelling one told before him. It seems like in this day and age, creativity has run thin, and everything is inspired or copied from someone else who most likely did it better or worse.

Overall, it’s a cynical way of thinking, but he’s got little room to fantasize.

While checking for his exam scores on a corkboard outside his biology class on Friday evening, he overheard a pair of girls talking.

“Did you see they opened a new arcade on West Avenue?”

“Finally. Maybe there’ll be something to do around here except to drink and smoke.”

The college town was unfortunately boring, but since UCLA is a good school here in America, Kiku couldn’t complain much. However, his selective hearing did catch on to ‘arcade’. As a child, he loved going to the arcade and winning all the prizes he could with his tickets.

On the way back to his apartment, paid for by the courtesy of the many grants and scholarships his intellect and background qualified for, he checked the calendar on his phone. Being a foreigner had its perks. Although he had to study tonight, usually until it was bedtime, he felt tempted for the first time to potentially shorten that time to just an hour of studying and catching up on material. Besides, the weather was nice today for September.

His last class ended at 2:00 p.m., he spent an hour reviewing the material, and he finished by 3:10. It felt odd closing his laptop earlier than 5:00. It must be the new feeling of adrenaline about the fact that he was actually going to do something other than schoolwork. Either way, he passed his biology exam with flying colors, so he deserved to spoil himself somehow instead of maybe getting on his phone for an hour.

His car wasn’t fancy compared to the Mustangs and Chargers parked in the lot in front of the new arcade. However, the more he looked at the building, glittering with neon lights, high ceilings, and double-story, there was no way it was just an arcade. Nobody was that into arcade games.

In the car, he searched it up on Google and found the location was not only an arcade, but was also a restaurant and bar with bowling alleys, a roller skating rink, laser tag, and a trampoline park. No wonder there were so many people here, having struggled to find a parking spot for a good three minutes—this place was more or less an amusement center straight out of a faux cyberpunk world. Admittedly, it did appeal to Kiku’s romanticism of a hyper-capitalist society.

Upon walking into the room and paying $30 for just an arcade pass, he might be the only one here not a part of a larger friend group. Groups of children, teenagers, and college students infiltrated every facility they had to offer. Parents either watch their kids or hang out at the bar, and the youngsters get up to no good as youngsters typically do, Kiku thought.

Everything echoed with the high ceilings, so every kid’s scream of exhilaration was amplified to the tenth degree. Kiku had to be reminded constantly why he didn’t like children. The arcade was at the back of the building in an entirely separate area from the front area, which was the restaurant full of over-priced food and alcohol and overworked parents. Kiku just wanted to see the arcade, and indeed, his expectations were exceeded.

Rows upon rows of classic and new arcade games attracted him like a moth to artificial neon lights. This must be how gambling feels. At the back of the arcade was the prize wall, the main prize being a life-sized Pikachu plush that, according to the sign below it, stood at a little over 5 feet. It was worth 10,000 tickets. The other products surrounding it were electronics, including an iPhone 16, which was worth 50,000 tickets, which, in actual money, would be the equivalent of about $1,000 spent on tokens alone. Unless you’re a masochist, there’s no reason for you to be aiming for an iPhone in an arcade.

Kiku bought $5 worth of tokens at an electronic kiosk, which gave him about 50 tokens, and each game cost more or less 5 tokens. If his math was right, that’s 10 games he can play. He supposed it wasn’t that much since it was just $5.

Although all the bright, flashing colors of each game caught his attention, he attempted to lure him in with his precious golden tokens. He was finicky with each game, and if he was going to play it, he was going to win. He played two classic games, got about 60 tickets in total, and spent a good while trying to get a Nendoroid figurine he wanted from a claw machine. Obviously, he underestimated the scam that was claw machines, so he was left with only 10 tokens and no figurine.

Again, he began his pious search around the arcade. He wondered how long he had to stay in here staring at the garish lighting before he went crazy. It was the definition of overstimulating for a stressed-out 20-year-old like him, but just the right amount of stimulation for children below the age of 14.

In his search, a two-player game caught his eye. It wasn’t infested with kids, so that was one good thing. Usually, two-player games are fighting games, and Kiku has no friends he brought with him. However, this game appeared to be an adventure game. He watched the standby screen—2D pixelated characters that work together to figure out puzzles and fight off jellyfish-like monsters with various weapons. The title of the game atop the machine was WORLD STAR DOMINATION, each O having a tiny four-pointed star inside.

The control panels were extremely simple-looking. Four arrows were pointing up, down, left, and right, and a circle button was in the center of the arrows. He supposedly wasn’t supposed to be a lot—it is still an arcade game—but for a game as elaborate as this one looks with various weapons, custom characters, and intense levels, Kiku is surprised.

What surprised Kiku even more, though, was someone approaching his side, also interested in the game. Kiku was not extroverted in the slightest; meeting new people made him unnaturally nervous, and it didn’t help that this person had zero clue about personal space.

He was actually two feet away, but that’s violating too much of Kiku’s bubble that he’d like to keep permanently.

“Hm,” the person hummed—Kiku refused to acknowledge them unless they were sticking around, “I don’t think I’ve seen this one on the forums. It must be super new.”

His voice is interesting. Kiku doesn’t recall the time anyone who wasn’t nasally or stereotypically nerdy-sounding was talking about internet forums. Who the hell was this guy?

“Eh, I’ll take the bait.” From the man’s pocket, he pulled the five tokens needed to enter. “You gonna play too?”

At this point, it must be odd for Kiku to continuously stare at the screen as if he were hypnotized. Kiku turned to face the man, who was taller than him, though that didn’t narrow it down at all. He wasn’t exactly tall himself compared to Americans. The man had blond hair, tousled at the ends, and blue eyes, wore a cornflower blue sweatshirt repping UCLA, light blue jeans ripped at the knees, and gray slip-ons. Casual, but reminiscent of a certain kind of clique. Gym rats, football players, alternative wannabes, or fraternity boys—pick your poison.

“Uh…”

You know how blue eyes are said to bewitch people like a spell?

“Y-Yeah.”

Kiku sacrificed five of his ten tokens in his hand and placed the rest in his hoodie’s pocket. The man also did well after he did.

The START GAME screen dissipated into a character customization screen showing two blank player models they could customize with skin tones, eye and hair color, and a variety of headgear, outfits, shoes, and weapons.

“Sick…” The man muttered under his breath. Kiku was also amazed at the amount of selection, especially for a game only meant to be played once.

Kiku customized his character, Player 1, to appear mostly like him… not really. In a game where you can have any hair and eye color, why would you choose to make it look like yourself? He gave his character neon blue hair—yes, neon, there was an option for regular blue—and pink eyes. He went for a cyberpunk samurai with shutter goggles that have little antennae on them and a katana. Admittedly, he patted himself on the back for such good character design.

He glanced over at Player 2’s character, which resembled him with blond hair and blue eyes, but he had a cowboy astronaut theme going on with everything cowboy-themed except for the space helmet, which his character looked all too ecstatic to be wearing. His weapon was a revolver, also cowboy-themed.

Both readied their characters and entered gameplay.

LEVEL 10: FINAL BOSS

LEVEL 9: SPACE

LEVEL 8: WESTERN

LEVEL 7: JUNGLE

LEVEL 6: OCEAN

LEVEL 5: ICE

LEVEL 4: HELL

LEVEL 3: CITY

LEVEL 2: COUNTRYSIDE

→ LEVEL 1: EARTH

Both of their characters appeared on their stage. Grass-topped dirt platforms, a background of a blue sky with clouds and distant pixelated mountains, and the text tutorial summoned on their screen.

←→ MOVE RIGHT OR LEFT

↑ JUMP

↓ CROUCH

◉ ATTACK

←→◉ ACTIVATE ULTIMATE IN FACED DIRECTION

SAVE THE WORLD FROM ALIEN INVADERS. GAIN ULTIMATE POINTS BY SLAYING ENEMIES. IF ONE PLAYER DIES, BOTH OF YOU ARE SENT BACK TO LEVEL 1. GOOD LUCK!

The tutorial was simple enough, and they were immediately thrown into conflict when two earth-themed jellyfish with grass atop their heads came onto the screen. Kiku’s katana, when pressing attack, was best at close range; however, Player 2’s revolver was long-range. Every time an enemy exploded, lime green orbs were absorbed into the player that built up their ultimate gauges in the corner of the screen, aptly named Player 1 and Player 2.

Both got the hang of it pretty fast, as the controls and mechanics were pretty simple, too. It was similar to most platform pixel games. Player 2’s ultimate move was a barrage of bullets that fired rapidly but also in a wide area. Kiku’s ultimate move was his character dashing forward, slashing any enemies caught in the path, and dealing huge damage that one-shotted smaller enemies.

As the level progressed, enemies grew in size and strength. Small enemies—the jellyfish—were easy opponents that dealt little damage when attacked. Medium enemies consisted of larger jellyfish (as opposed to the mini jellies, which floated) that used their tentacles to walk. Kiku isn’t actually sure if they are jellyfish in the oceanic context; he just knew they looked similar and could be entirely different creatures based on the lore of the game, if any.

Horizontally, they reached the end of the level and were told it was time to scale up, but around the level are various contraptions that Kiku and Player 2 must complete together or don’t complete at all. The first one was at the end of the horizontal level and was a rising platform; another player had to step on a button to cause it to lift.

“I’ll step on the button,” Player 2 said, “you go on the platform.”

As told, Kiku stepped on the platform, and Player 2 pressed the button with his character, and thus Kiku rose to the next set of terrain. A button waited for Kiku up top to press, so evidently, he helped Player 2 get up as well.

“Thank you,” Player 2 muttered. Kiku could only hum in response.

There, they faced more enemies and gained more points to earn their ultimates, which would prove to be useful as they encountered more enemies. Turns out, while not hard individually, when in large groups, it can be quite overwhelming, and so area-of-effect ultimates like theirs actually worked pretty well together. Kiku got into the fray and dealt half the damage; Player 2 can chip off the rest.

Evidently, more puzzles await, though they weren’t hard. It is only the first level, also known as a tutorial level. Most were just stepping on a button or pulling a lever that caused a platform to come down, and one person stepped on it. However, on their third scaling, they discovered power-ups.

POWERUPS CAN REGENERATE HEALTH AND FILL YOUR ULTIMATE GAUGE.

Powerups came in either batteries with electrical charges on the front or soda cans, funnily enough. Nearing the end of the level, the game promptly introduced an even larger mob of enemies, from low-level jellyfish to the medium-sized ones that kept spawning from a floating pink crystal.

DESTROY SPAWNING STARS TO COMPLETE THE LEVEL.

STARS WILL HAVE MORE HEALTH AS YOU PROGRESS.

As Kiku and Player 2 slashed and shot through the hordes of enemies, they managed to get an opening to unleash everything onto the crystal; a small health bar appeared above it and dwindled as they attacked. Once shattered, the rays of light emitted, and it vanished into sparkling embers. Both Kiku and Player 2’s characters high-fived each other in celebration.

LEVEL 1 BEAT!

Two stat screens appeared to show how many enemies they beat and how many points they earned from each kill. An 8-bit victory jingle played in celebration of their level completion. A pop-up says both of their weapons have been upgraded in terms of damage, speed, and appearance.

NEXT LEVEL?

QUIT    CONTINUE

The first level was surprisingly engaging and well-programmed for a simple arcade game. The game, in general, Kiku thought, was beautifully elaborate and simplistic, and the graphics were appealing. The addition of restarting from Level 1 when just one of them dies thrilled him more than he showed.

“Dude,” Player 2 chuckled as if in disbelief, “wanna play again?”

He took the effort to glance at Kiku with those rather beguiling blue eyes. Again, Kiku just can’t decipher which group this man belonged to, just based on his style and interests. Then again, he supposed exclusive cliques are a thing of the past, as most mingle occasionally.

“Yeah.” Kiku nodded.

Both of their cursors landed on CONTINUE and were selected. The screen dissipates into the level display once again.

LEVEL 10: FINAL BOSS

LEVEL 9: SPACE

LEVEL 8: WESTERN

LEVEL 7: JUNGLE

LEVEL 6: OCEAN

LEVEL 5: ICE

LEVEL 4: HELL

LEVEL 3: CITY

→ LEVEL 2: COUNTRYSIDE

✓ LEVEL 1: EARTH

Level 2 loaded in, and the characters stood by the side. The level resembled rolling hills with distant barns in the distance in front of a sunrise. Upon their advancement, the jellyfish enemies appeared to have merged with farm animals. Their appearance was a little grotesque, but nothing too offensive to the eyes or unsettling for small children. As a matter of fact, when they were slain, the infected farm animals returned to their original form and fled the scene.

From what Kiku has gathered, both he and Player 2 are Earth’s defenders from the alien invasion of these odd jellyfish creatures that are summoned from these pink crystals called Stars, which sort of resemble a portal from perhaps their home realm. They must be Earth’s best warriors to entrust them with the task of defending their beloved planet.

Puzzles this time around are not hard to solve. In fact, puzzles didn’t appear to be the focal point of the game now that they’re on the second level. The fighting mechanics and combo potentials are the real highlight of the game. However, each level is supposed to get harder, with more enemies, stronger enemies, and more obstacles to prevent them from advancing.

In the middle of the level, the increased enemy strength began taking its toll. As mentioned, the enemies’ power lies not in individual strength, but in swarming. It’s sort of like zombies, not a threat as one or three, but in hordes, you begin faltering. It’s exactly what began happening to Kiku and Player 2.

More and more enemies kept spawning and overwhelmed their dual efforts. They couldn’t possibly kill every single one coming from the top and both sides of the platform, and with the stronger enemies, it was just too much to defeat. Kiku perished first because his weapon is best in close combat, and he kept getting preoccupied with immediate enemies while longer ranged ones picked off the rest of his health. As a result, his character faded into hot pink and burst into pixel shards.

The screen froze and darkened with a large:

GAME OVER

→ RETURN TO STANDBY SCREEN

It also displayed their stats as well, but it’s not like it really mattered.

“Damn,” Player 2 pulled his hands away from the control. “Hey, but we did pretty well. Level 2’s not bad.” He turned to Kiku, not salty, but not exactly careless about their loss. He was quite curious to see what the game had in store, and most importantly, he wanted to face the final boss and see what happened when they completed the game.

“Yeah,” Kiku muttered.

“Hey, I think I might’ve seen you around here.”

Kiku’s worst nightmare: recognition.

He reluctantly turned to Player 2, a little pang of eagerness in his blue eyes. They almost match his sweatshirt, which Kiku thought was pretty amusing. “… Do you?”

“Yeah! You go to UCLA?”

Without a way to escape the interaction he was kidnapped into, he had to reply like a normal person. “I do, yeah.”

“Sick. What do you study?”

“Uh, neuroscience… to be a doctor.”

“What?” He laughed. “That’s freakin’ awesome. I respect that. I think I’ve seen you around, uh, Sunset Village. You go there for lunch, right?”

Kiku nodded, still unable to hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds. It’s not out of disrespect; it’s a bad habit of his since childhood. “I don’t think I’ve seen you, though?”

“It’s ‘cause I go out most of the time. But when I stay behind, I usually go there.”

In the back of his mind, Kiku wondered why, out of the hundreds of students who go there daily, does he notice him? He goes there specifically because there are a lot of people to blend in, to feel a part of the group, and for whatever reason… Player 2 notices him?

“Oh, well… Yeah, I go there daily, just to save money and whatnot…” What else can he say…? “Uh, what do you study?”

“Me? I study history, I’m gonna get my Bachelor’s, then I’m going to shift to getting my teaching degree. I wanna be an elementary school teacher!”

Kiku is thoroughly surprised at the goals. Teachers get paid dirt for dealing with rowdy children who have a fifty-fifty chance of knowing how to use their inside voices and having manners, and it’s a stark chance. “Ah… Even with the poor pay? The… kids.” He utters it like a swear word.

Player 2 chuckled at his pronunciation. “Yeah… even with the shit pay and bad kids. It’s just, y’know, I like teaching people! Plus, I think being an elementary teacher is far more tolerable than being a middle and high school teacher, ‘cause then they think they’re entitled to respect—they’re no longer sponges. Also… hormones. Lots and lots of hormones.”

“Those are good reasons,” Kiku smiled. Yes, he smiled for the first time; progress is being made. “And I guess you love history enough to teach it to others?”

“Hell yeah, history’s the most fun subject, like, ever! It’s like high school drama, but… geopolitical high school drama.”

The analogy made Kiku laugh, too. Big steps in the right direction are being made here. Kiku laughed!

Player 2 ruffled his hair nervously. “Well, I, uh, used up my last coins here, so I guess I gotta go. I’m trying to save money too.”

“You… don’t have any friends here?” It sounded like a tease, but Kiku couldn’t control his tone very well, and he feared that’s what it sounded like. It’s a good thing Player 2 didn’t catch on to the potentially snarky-sounding remark.

He smiled, instead, a genuine one. “My friends don’t come to arcades. They, uh, go to each other’s house and play Fortnite or Apex, or whatever. They’re not big game nerds like me.”

For a self-proclaimed game nerd, Player 2 was really handsome, like… movie star handsome, but authentic enough not to appear artificially beautiful. He has typically handsome features like a good jawline, clear skin, and symmetrical facial proportions. But, he also has other charming features like a softer cheekbone structure or docile eyes, not sharp or intimidating.

Kiku thought he was the perfect mix of handsome and cute.

“I see…” Noticing all these features he found alluring, his mouth went dry and his mind switched to static fuzz.

“But, it was cool playing with you! Maybe I’ll see you around on campus, and maybe this time I’ll come and talk to you… Oh, shit, I didn’t even get your name!”

Such a simple question, his name. This felt oddly intimate, yet Kiku couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“Kiku.”

Player 2 nodded slowly as if digesting the name before smiling, liking the taste of it. “Alfred, but just call me Al. It makes me sound less like an old man.” He chuckled.

Kiku finally felt a blush heating his face. It’s a good thing the arcade is so overstimulating with neon lights that the flushing just looks natural. “Ah. I… I quite like the name?”

He smirked, humming once. “Thanks. I’ll see you around, ‘kay? It’s my bedtime, anyway…” It was a Friday, but he couldn’t blame him. However, before he could walk away, he came jogging back. “Actually, we should share Snaps. You have one?”

“Snap…?” Kiku remembered quickly that it was short for Snapchat. He didn’t use it often, but he supposed, just for tonight, he’ll give it away. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Both pulled out their phones and exchanged usernames. Al quickly added Kiku back. “Awesome. Thanks. I’ll see you around… for real, this time.”

And just like that, Alfred disappeared into the crowds of teens and young adults. Kiku wanted to thank him for playing with him, but he supposed he could say that another time. His phone was still out, still on Alfred’s profile on Snapchat.

Al 💪🏈

est1776

🎈 July 4 | 👻 110.4k | ♋ Cancer | 🎓 UCLA 2027

It’s an ordinary profile for someone of that age. Yet, Kiku couldn’t stop admiring it. He decided to save his tokens for his next visit and head back to the parking lot. Once in the car, he examined his profile more intensely.

According to it, he should be a sophomore, and from the emojis, he is most likely on the football team and goes to the gym frequently. Although from what Kiku observed, he appeared rather slim from his frame and silhouette, he could blame his sweatshirt, which was a little baggy on the frame. From his Snap score alone, he’s a very popular guy, which is a stark contrast to seeing him all alone at the arcade, saying he has no friends who are into arcade games. Regardless, his Bitmoji is pretty cute.

He did some research on his star sign, a Cancer. Kiku isn’t interested in the occult or even astrology, but he has seen from social media that to some people, it can be the quickest turn-off. According to (mostly) reliable websites, Cancers are nurturing, intuitive, loyal, compassionate, and empathetic people. That’s good! It doesn’t sound half-bad; nurturing and loyal are good traits, right? However, the negatives are moodiness, a tendency to hold grudges, and insecurity. Okay, not all good, but nobody’s perfect.

Kiku realized about ten minutes into his research that he should probably head home… and put down the phone. Why, all of a sudden, does he believe in astrology? It’s all nonsense anyway! Except… some of it, perhaps. Kiku would really like a friend. His heart just races at the idea of having a friend like him. They can play video games together, go to the arcade, and nerd out, and potentially so much more that Kiku has fantasized about briefly but never dwelled on.

He didn’t believe college was the place to make friends, just pass and get set on the right path for your career. That was, of course, until he met Alfred, then suddenly… that all goes out the window? There’s no way that’s logical thinking, right? How can one person make him forget all about his schoolwork tomorrow and make him want to know more about his… friend?

Are they even friends? They never really said they weren’t, but Kiku likes to think they would be now. After all, Alfred was the Player 2 to his Player 1.

Chapter Text

Monday

Kiku didn’t return to the arcade on Saturday or Sunday. He figured those days would be better spent studying, and not returning to look for Alfred in the off chance that he’s there.

Since they exchanged usernames, neither has sent a Snap or even acknowledged one another. Kiku has never gotten a message on the app. In fact, he only downloaded it because everyone else was, and he hoped that someone would ask for his. His score is… below 100, but he figured it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t a direct representation of your popularity, so why bother?

But, the more he thought about it over the weekend, perhaps he mistakenly believed Alfred wasn’t as vapid as he thought. Did Alfred look at his score and think of how much of a loser this guy is? Is he desperate for friends? Kiku refused to look that pathetic, but it was a beckoning thought in the back of his mind. Surely no one is that vapid, right?

On Monday morning, he followed the same routine—shower, then head out of his dorm building. He lives in Reiber Hall, sharing a communal bathroom and laundry room, which would normally be his biggest gripe, but it’s surprisingly not. The buildings have no AC; that’s sort of the gimmick here. Instead, since it’s right by the sea, the breeze is expected to cool off rooms, which it sort of does, but not to the same degree as an AC. It’s eco-friendly, but in the scorching summers of Los Angeles, sweating in places you didn’t think you could sweat, the last thing you’re worrying about is your carbon footprint.

He heads to his first lecture at 5:00, chemistry, breezes through it like it’s nothing new, then to physics, calculus, psychology, then calculus… all before lunch at 12. It’s a horrifying schedule, but Kiku figured if he could knock out everything before his sophomore year, it would get better. Neuroscience isn’t particularly his favorite subject, but if he knows enough about it and gets a stable job and income, it doesn’t really matter. Money mattered most of all.

At lunch, though, he goes to Sunset Village, per usual. He hopes to catch Alfred there in the chance that he decides to stay on campus for lunch. But, he’s not. He must’ve gone off campus for lunch; maybe a lighter schedule allows for that kind of freedom. Although he’s not heavily disappointed, Kiku was anticipating catching a glance of him passing by.

Until 2, he’s in biology. This and psychology are the only courses in his degree. It’s a tough semester already.

After class, he goes to the library to study instead of his dorm. He’d rather not deal with the horrid heat in his AC-less dorm. Kiku preferred to wear hoodies, usually just to mask the fact that he was skinny, and it’s not optimal for him to suffer a heat stroke while studying. He thinks about going to the arcade again just for fun, but he can’t afford to pay another $30 for an entrance fee.

And he just sighs heavily at the thought.

Now that he’s gotten a taste of what could’ve been, it’s suddenly all he wants. The freedom to go to the arcade every day, play games, draw, compose a story for his new comic series, and… do it all alone? It’s not that he would prefer to do it alone, but he did like his personal space. However, it would be nice to have a friend to do it all with. Curse his shyness. Why couldn’t he be properly socialized as a child?

After studying for two hours, it’s five o’clock now, he passes through the commons area where a bulletin board for all the clubs, fraternity and sorority chapters, sports, student government, and volunteering groups can advertise. Since football is in season, there are a few posters and flyers encouraging students to support the team. For all his time here in America, he’s never been interested in sports.

Until now.

In front of the bulletin board, he pulled out his phone and checked the football roster to see if he recognized Alfred among them. After a bit of searching, he found him.

# FULL NAME POS. HT. WT. YR. HOMETOWN/HIGH SCHOOL/PREVIOUS SCHOOL

18 Alfred F. Jones WR 6’2” 210 So. Los Angeles, Calif. / Inglewood HS

If Kiku’s intuition skills are right, WR means he’s a wide receiver, but he’s got no clue what that position is in terms of football. Given Alfred is a football player, that must mean he also works out religiously. His username emojis weren’t lying. However, if it’s football season, that means it’s not often he’ll find Alfred in the arcade.

That sours his mood a bit. He checked their schedule. They just lost a game to New Mexico on Friday before last, but their next game this Saturday will be out of state in Illinois. It’s not unlikely that Alfred is just spending his time wisely by training and attending his class to ensure his grades qualify for the team. Unfortunately, he’s got a life outside his love for arcade games.

Whatever. He’s doing just fine on his own and has been for the weeks he’s studied. It’s not like he needed a friend.

So, that notion didn’t last long, actually.

“Comin’ through!” A deep voice warned the people on the sidewalk to step aside from their jogging group of strong, tall men, likely the football players, so Kiku did just that.

Wait, football players?

The group of twelve jogged through, almost all of them wearing running shorts and either sweatshirts or tank tops. They were all physically gifted, Kiku can admit that, but he probably shouldn’t stare that intensely at them. However, life doesn’t make it that easy, as they all collectively decided to take a water break in the middle of the courtyard.

Life has a sense of humor, apparently.

At first, Kiku wanted to go back to his dorm, until he saw Alfred among them, then he really couldn’t go anywhere. His eyes, without his will, mind you, wander to his bulging biceps exposed to the smothering California sun by his white tank top, resting at the back of his head, or how the hem of his top will slightly expose his navel… then his perfect… posterior?

His outfit on Friday did not do his build any justice whatsoever. In fact, it criminally wronged his physique.

He stared too long. Alfred noticed him across the plaza, donning a small smile as he practically shoved aside his teammates, teasing him about something, but he easily brushed off their humorous remarks. Kiku internally panicked, trying to find a way to play off the fact that he was indeed staring with unnaturally lecherous thoughts. God, he’s such a creep.

“Hey.” Up close, Kiku can discern the sweat soaking his collar and the droplets beading at the ends of his hair. Every word he panted a little. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you around. You’re a ghost, dude.”

Kiku knew he didn’t mean that to be mean. He quite literally floated without a word through campus. So, he brushed it off with a chuckle. “I just… I usually just go to my dorm after my last class.”

“Oh? You’re not in any clubs or anything?”

“No, I… I don’t really have the time for that. And, um… I don’t talk to anyone that much.”

Alfred nodded, and Kiku saw there was no judgment. Although, to be fair, he just got done with a run, so it’s not like he had the energy to do anything else but think about the miles he’s run. “That’s fair. Y’know, I wanna join some, but football and baseball take up my entire year.”

“You play baseball?”

“Yeah!” A teammate warned Alfred before tossing a water bottle toward him, which he caught singlehandedly. “You interested?”

Kiku watched Alfred practically shotgun the water bottle, dripping in condensation. His eyes glanced over to see that one of his teammates had been running with a cooler the entire time.

“In joining?”

After finishing the bottle in one go, he crushed it into a disk of plastic, screwing the cap back down. He laughed. “No, I mean, unless you wanna join? We could always use a pitcher. Got a good throwing hand?”

Kiku almost flushed. “N-No, I’m not very athletic. It’s just baseball is very popular where I’m from—Japan.”

“I know,” without warning, he rubbed Kiku’s shoulder, “one of my favorite players is Japanese, actually. Yoshinobu Yamamoto. He’s a pitcher for the Dodgers.”

“Ah… Right.”

“Anyway, uh… I’m gonna be free on Saturday, so, if you wanna, we can go by the arcade and, y’know, try beating that game for sure. If you’re free that day, then it’ll be perfect.”

Kiku almost lost his breath, but snatched it before it could run away. “Y-Yeah, I’m free that day! Do you just want to meet up?”

“Yeah, sure, you gotta car?”

“I do.”

“Then cool. Saves me some gas.” He pushed his hair back along with all the sweat. “Oh, and…” He appeared a little contemplative, but he ultimately went through with it. “Are you… free tonight? Like, you don’t have any labs or anything?”

Okay, now Kiku’s breath is somewhere halfway across the country. His knees grow weaker because of Alfred’s visage, his whole attention on him and no one else. That alone makes his heart beat like a snare drum in a parade. “Uh… No… I mean, yes, I’m free.” Studying is the last thing on his mind.

How does this keep happening?

“Sick! ‘Cause I wanted to know if, like… You wanna get something to eat? Y’know, somewhere cheap, we’re both broke, I just know it. But, I mean, if you also wanna get something expensive… I always got my credit card?”

Is this a date? Is he asking Kiku on a date? He’s never been asked on a date before, let alone by someone who appeared to be quite popular.

“No, we—we don’t have to go expensive. Cheap is okay.”

“McDonald’s? Most people like McDonald’s, right?”

Kiku nodded with a smile, one he was desperately controlling to ensure he didn’t look like an idiot. “I’m okay with that.”

“Awesome. So, that’s a yes, right?”

“Yes…”

He’s sure Alfred would’ve pumped his fist in the air if he could, by the ecstatic look on his face. “Cool, cool. I’ll drive, so if you want, meet me at the fitness center at, like…” He checked his smart watch. “Seven. Seven’s good?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

His team concludes their water break and is ready to get back on their journey. “Alright. Well, don’t forget, ‘kay? I won’t hesitate to leave without you.” He peers back at Kiku as he begins jogging with the rest of his group. Kiku watched them jog out of the courtyard, baking in the sun.

If it is a date, should he dress up nicely?

Though looking through his closet, he didn’t have any particularly formal clothes to wear. Then again, they’re getting fast food—how formal can he be expected to dress up? Alfred is just getting out of the gym, so perhaps something casual will fit the bill.

He probably shouldn’t call this date. Kiku is getting ahead of himself now. One lecherous look and a hangout to get McDonald’s doesn’t mean Alfred’s into him. Given his good looks and popularity, he most likely has a girlfriend. In that case, he would be fantasizing about a taken man, and Kiku knows he doesn’t have the looks or the charisma to even think about homewrecking. Dressing up shouldn’t matter anyway. They’re just friends.

After a few seconds of scrolling through his closet, he decided on a plain white t-shirt, jeans, and a gray zip-up just in case it was cold. He got cold quickly and easily, and maybe Alfred is the type of person to blast the AC at the most frigid degree. The walk to the Bruin Fitness Center was pretty calm as everyone was finishing up their classes and heading back home to study or sleep their responsibilities away. A few are on their way to the fitness center for their evening workouts. Kiku wished he were a part of that crowd.

He stopped and began waiting at the front entrance, checking his phone, reading five minutes from seven. It’s a bit awkward to see everyone going in or exiting, laughing with their friends, or finishing their workout like the responsibly active people they are. Kiku slyly rubbed his arms to feel their thinness. He has a fast metabolism, so throughout his life, he’s never really had to worry about gaining weight, and it’s fairly difficult to even be overweight in Japan.

Gym culture here in the States is much more popular, so it seemed. There are more bodybuilders he saw roaming the streets or campus than he ever did in his childhood, including Alfred, though he’s not sure if bodybuilding is an actual goal of his.

At 7:05, Kiku heard Alfred and his group of friends/teammates coming through the entrance before he even saw them. They’re quite loud, though not disruptive to the point of making a scene. At first, Kiku backed up because it seemed they liked to move and orbit around each other, and he feared getting shoved accidentally. It’s a swarm of gym bros; you have to expect the worst at all times. Alfred wore a black muscle shirt, black joggers, and white Nike trainers. He was also equipped with his backpack.

Alfred didn’t appear to notice or acknowledge Kiku, as he was preoccupied with his team, explaining the various ways you can use a rotisserie chicken on a date aside from eating. He’s not too keen on figuring out how their conversation led to that topic being discussed like a civil court case, but Kiku didn’t mind.

“Oh, hey!” Alfred then noticed Kiku, and only then did he say something in return. It seemed all his bros finally saw him, too. The blond returned his attention briefly to his group. “Hey, I’m gonna run by McDonald’s. You want anything?”

“You paying?” That’s the group’s collective message to him.

“I’ll just put on my credit card,” Kiku is somehow not surprised he said that. “I need a headcount now.”

On his Notes app, Alfred took everyone’s order, but some didn’t want anything. After double-checking, he wished his workout buddies well, at last paying attention to Kiku, who was standing to the side awkwardly. “Are you sure you can pay that?”

“Uh… Probably.”

At least he was honest.

In the nearest parking lot, Alfred’s three-year-old two-door black Jeep Wrangler was parked. The dashboard is full of rubber duckies of a plethora of colors, his back window is full of bumper stickers, pretty harmless ones like ones from UCLA and various road trip stickers, and the exterior condition is okay for a car.

He unlocked the doors, dumping his stuff in the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat, while Kiku hopped into the passenger seat. There was no horrifying smell, but the main scent was shoe leather and… a rather feminine-looking air freshener vent clip, though it was empty.

“Yeah, I know,” Alfred scoffed, noticing Kiku’s eyes on it. “My dads hated the way it smelled in here, so they got me that. Trust me, I’ve got enough teases from it alone, but they would kill me if I didn’t have it in.”

“Well, I think it’s better than having it smell in here.”

“It’s ‘cause I sweat a lot, y’know?” He put the car in reverse and began backing up, peering over his shoulder to see the back window. “Like, abnormally so. You probably saw from this afternoon.”

“Eh, I… I don’t think that’s bad?”

The comment made him chuckle. “Y’know, when I was in high school, some chicks came up to me during gym and asked why I sweated so much, like I look like I just got out of the pool type of sweaty… Never got why it was wrong to sweat, but here we are.”

Although Kiku would rather not overanalyze Alfred, there was something odd about his clinging to that moment years later. Kiku doesn’t even remember any teasing comments from kids at school during his high school years. He has heard that American high schools are a lot more brutal in their bullying methods.

The drive to McDonald’s was short, but Alfred’s Spotify playlist kept the awkwardness to a minimum. He thought Alfred might listen to pop or maybe rap music like the rest of his peers, but instead, he was in for a track list of old country songs, rock n roll, post-grunge rock, and old-school hip-hop. Kiku enjoyed it a lot, the original rhythms.

“So, you wanna go inside or drive-thru? I’m cool with whatever. Besides, I gotta get those fatasses what they want too.” Alfred asked at the intersection before the McDonald’s building.

Kiku always went through the drive-thru, but maybe to keep the others waiting in line from waiting, they should go inside. “I don’t mind inside.” He found himself staring at the bicep of the arm on the steering wheel.

“Cool. If you want, you can order separately, then I’ll pay.”

“Uh, you’ll pay?”

“Yeah,” he cheered, “I’ll pay for you, I don’t mind.”

“N-No, I should pay for myself. You’re using your gas to take me here, so it’s only fair I don’t burden you further.”

Alfred smiled, turning to Kiku. “Dude, I don’t care. Burden or not, it’s just the nice thing to do.”

Kiku can never argue with the nice thing to do.

They parked and headed inside, surprisingly busy with some people getting off work or late-night munchers, or fellow college students unwilling to spend more than ten dollars for dinner. Kiku wanted to order at the newfangled electronic kiosks since he’s less than ecstatic to wait in line.

“I’ve never actually used one of these,” Alfred pulled out his phone to use his app rewards.

“It’s not hard,” Kiku noticed this. “Do you come here often?”

“I do. Check it.” He showed Kiku his points, ranking over 15.8k points. He can’t even lie. That’s an accomplishment in itself. “If I can’t afford anything else, I always come here. And I always use the deals. You’re crazy if you don’t.”

“Is it worth the download?” Kiku asked. “The… app?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alfred chuckled as if it was common knowledge. “They give you deals and discounts for free. Hell yeah, I’m gonna use them. But, your points do expire, so you do gotta come here a lot.”

Kiku prepared his order, and afterward, he had to ask for clarification. “Are you… really sure you can pay for me? I brought mine in case?” He refers to his debit card.

“Dude, I got this. Watch this irresponsible spending in record time.”

His last remark did make Kiku smile. After adding his order and the ones he gathered at the fitness center, the damage was $83.47. Kiku watched him cringe as the number climbed every time he added onto the order, but the man insisted he would pay to lift the burden off Kiku’s shoulders and everyone else’s, apparently. Once it was permanent, he took out his esteemed credit card and inserted it into the card reader below the screen.

“Hey, y’know… You could’ve stopped me…” He muttered through his teeth, punching in his security code.

“I did… You didn’t listen.”

“You can smack me, y’know…”

Once given the receipt and their drinks—Kiku, a small Sprite, and Alfred, a large Diet Coke— they sit down and wait for the order to be finished. Aside from the guilt of making underpaid fast food workers work harder than they already are, Alfred suffers from the classic buyer’s remorse… except it’s not on a car or house. It’s McDonald’s.

“So… I guess you don’t have any work due anytime soon? As a neuroscience major? Sounds rough.” They sat across from each other. It felt too soon to sit next to one another. They are just friends.

“No, I, uh, usually spend this time studying. Do you?”

“Nope,” he smiled, “I don’t have too many classes, and history’s not really a major to assign a lot of homework.”

“When are your classes?”

“I take ‘em all in the morning, I only have three—one at 8, second at 10, then my last at noon. The rest of the day, I’m usually training or out in the field. It works better that way.”

“I wasn’t aware you also played football?”

Alfred hummed. “Wide receiver, number 18. Eh, do you know what that is?”

“… Not, really no.”

“Okay, I catch the ball when the quarterback passes. The quarterback throws it from across the field, and I’m the one who catches it and scores a touchdown. But, I gotta move around the defenders or safeties, ‘cause they’ll try to tackle me.”

Kiku nodded along. “So… It’s all up to you to score?”

He shrugged. “No, I’m just the first person usually open. If I’m not open or if I know I’m going to get tackled, I can defend our running back. He’s the guy who can carry the ball to the end zone if I can’t.”

“Ah,” he hummed, “I’ve heard it is a strategy game. Not everything is to the point.”

“Yeah, you get it. I mean, unless you’re a coach, it’s not the hardest sport to learn. It’s fun. All I gotta do is dodge and weave and run as fast as I can. Of course… dodge and weave in the route my coach plans. He plans all our routes so that we can avoid getting tackled and scoring a touchdown. It’s… a little like chess, y’know? Except for, y’know, meatheads like me. I’m not good at chess.”

“I can see the connection…”

Alfred’s gentle smile is all too hypnotizing. It’s… cute. It’s cute in a way that it’s genuine, like he knows he’s been listened to. “Hey, y’know, you should come to one of your home games! The best way to learn is just to be there, watching us! Shoot, I… I can save you a spot?”

“Isn’t that what tickets are for?” Kiku can’t help but smile at him, too, even if the gesture is a little stressed. He’s not used to smiling, let alone at someone.

“Well, y-y’know what I mean!”

Is that… a blush on his cheeks?

“Like, I’ll save you a plate at the tailgates!”

Kiku tilted his head a little. “What’s that?”

“It’s, uh, like a party before the game in the parking lot at the stadium. Fans’ll come out and grill from the back of their trucks or cars before they’re let inside the stadium. Sometimes, they don’t even attend the games! They’ll watch from outside!”

Again, Kiku’s knowledge of sports culture only grows. He doesn’t think it would have ever happened if he hadn’t met Alfred. “I’m guessing you usually attend?”

“Yeah, when they’re home games. My dads, though, they’re not really into all that culture. They’re, uh… Europeans.”

Kiku promptly lowered his drink’s straw from his lips. “Are you European?”

“No! Thank God I’m not!” Alfred laughed. “No, uh… They’re from Europe, one’s English, the other’s French. I was a, uh, a surrogate baby. You know what that is, right?”

“I do,” Kiku nodded. “But… If I’m thinking correctly, that would still make you half European, no? Given you needed one of your fathers to conceive?”

Alfred quickly interjected. “I’d prefer not talking about how I was conceived.” However, given his growing smile, it’s all lighthearted, which helps Kiku feel more at ease about laughing about it.

“I see,” Kiku’s smile settled, but strangely enough, it remained on his lips.

“Anyway, um, you mentioned that you’re from Japan? Right?”

Kiku finishes his sip from his drink. “Yeah. Hokota. It’s, um… east of Tokyo.”

Alfred blinked a few times, but for some reason, his blinking helped Kiku believe that he was also being listened to. It made him feel warm inside. “Oh, okay. So, when’d you come here? To the States, I mean.”

“Uh… This year. I actually started living here in August, so… I’ve been adjusting since.”

“Right… And I guess you’ve studied English pretty heavily? You’re really good… is what I’m trying to say.”

Kiku nodded. The warmth in his chest began climbing. “A-Ah, yeah, I knew I wanted to come here since… high school. Since then, I’ve learned English. We’re taught in our schools, actually.”

“Yeah, I heard of that. It’s kinda like us. They teach us Spanish, ‘cause, y’know, Mexico is down south—doesn’t mean we’re any good at it, but we learn the very basics. But the fact that you’re fluent in two languages makes you, like, ten times better than me. But, um… Do you like it here? Why’d you want to come here?”

Kiku shrugged only one shoulder. “I… I do like it here.” It’s not the full truth, just a part of it. He’s not sure if they’re close enough to share truths like that. Well, Kiku did learn that Alfred was a surrogate baby, and that’s debatably intimate information, but he didn’t ask for that information.

The short answer and the odd pause afterward seemed to be picked up by Alfred, just nodding in response. “That’s good.” But it’s that blue-eyed gaze that Kiku can’t just ignore. He looks at him like the most intriguing person ever.

To break themselves from their odd staring contest (except they do blink), their order is called out. Alfred gets up before Kiku, saying, “I’ll get it.” Kiku lets him, semi-appreciating the responsibility, even if a small gesture.

Alfred brought over three shopping-mall-esque bags with a goofy smile, like he can’t believe he’s holding almost $90 worth of McDonald’s in his hands. “Dude, my dads are gonna fuckin’ kill me. Can you hold my drink for me?”

He carries Alfred’s drink, and Alfred carries their food back to the Jeep. Once inside, that McDonald’s smell fills the car. It’s greasy, it’s warm, and it’s so not good for you. Neither cares that much at the moment. Though Kiku had to admit, he liked the smell after a while of not having fast food.

“Wanna just eat in here? You can trash this place if you wanna. I’ll clean it later.”

Kiku was pretty hungry, so he supposes it’s not out of place. “Yeah… But I won’t trash your car.”

Alfred smiled, almost chuckling. “I know you won’t. You’re a good person.”

A good person. Somehow, that’s a compliment he hasn’t heard anyone give anyone, but receiving it felt oddly special. At the same time, should he feel honored to be good? And what kind of animals does Alfred let in his Jeep? Football players, that’s what kind.

Upon eating, Kiku can’t help but notice that he eats like a mouse compared to Alfred. He supposes Alfred is a larger man and his diet complies accordingly, but it’s just stark to think about. Alfred puts down a Big Mac, a 10-piece nugget, two McChickens, and a large fry like nothing. All that fat is subsequently burned in the gym.

“I’m supposed to be bulking, actually,” he says, guzzling his soda. He doesn’t even use the straw; he just drinks it straight from the cup. Americans, Kiku thought. “I probably shouldn’t be eating McDonald’s, but… whatevs.”

“What is bulking?” Kiku asks, eating his fries slowly.

“Pretty much, you eat more calories than you can burn. You gain weight, and then you work out; eventually, all those calories will turn into muscle. It’s just… y’know, gain more muscle mass.”

“Does it matter where those calories come from?”

Alfred shrugged. “Probs not, but I know coach will get on my ass if I’m not bulking the right way. Usually, I gotta eat healthier, but… sometimes, I get lazy, and I want McDonald’s, so here we are.”

Kiku doesn’t know a ton about working out. As far as he knows, Alfred is perfect the way he is. The ideal body type for any person in sports is what he has: muscular, tall, and generally robust. He’s handsome, too. If Kiku were him, he’d change nothing. He might even wear body-conforming clothes like him.

“Oh…”

Kiku examined his Jeep more. It’s odd. For all that is, it’s pretty plain aside from the rubber duckies, but he’s seen other Jeeps copying the trend. From the car alone, you can’t really tell who he is. All Kiku can tell is that he likes following trends, he’s a UCLA athlete, and he goes on road trips frequently. But they’re not indicators of what he likes.

Until that night at the arcade—that was a night to truly remember.

“How are you going to give your friends’ food to them?” Kiku breaks their silence momentarily.

“Most of them live on the same street, in a frat. I’ll just swing by there, and I can take you home.”

Is it odd to say Kiku didn’t want to go home? Even though they haven’t done anything particularly interesting, these quiet conversations are quite enjoyable. There’s no better way to describe it except that they were fulfilling. “… I see.”

Kiku finished his food, and it seemed Alfred was waiting for him to finish. Even though he wasn’t, he decided to begin driving. Was he waiting for him, not trying to rush him? If so, that’s oddly… considerate of him.

“You got any hobbies aside from… y’know, studying?” He asks out of the blue while driving on the highway.

“Uh… I like video games.”

“Like, what? I know you like arcade games, but what kind? PC, console?”

Kiku thought about it for a bit. “Both. I, um… I have a Switch.”

“Dude, we should add each other! That way, we can play Smash Bros. together. You have Smash, right?”

“Of course… How can you have a Switch and not download it?”

“What I’m saying,” Alfred keeps his eyes on the road like a good driver, but he’s not intensely concentrated, given that he’s talking to Kiku pretty normally. “Dude, none of my friends have a Switch. I’m always like, hey, you guys wanna play Smash after practice or whatever. And, they’re like, sorry bro, I don’t have a Switch. It’s like… a bummer, but y’know… whatever.”

There’s a strange sadness to his last words.

“What else do you have aside from Smash?”

That sadness thawed a bit. “I have… Let’s see, I have some Zelda games… Kirby, Stardew, Mario Kart… Mario Galaxy and Odyssey… Splatoon 2 and 3, if you play that… Animal Crossing. Some Pokémon, too. Stuff like that.”

Kiku could’ve sworn his heart quickened at every single one he listed. He doesn’t even know how to comprehend that he’s listed all of them off the top of his head. That connection quickly wrapped around him like a string.

“I…” He has to think about his words carefully. He cannot fumble this opportunity to potentially nerd out. “I play all of those… When I have time, that is.” His heart is racing now. He might have to turn the AC higher—it’s getting strangely warmer.

“Seriously?” Alfred’s tone noticeably heightened. “Like, all of them? Even Splatoon? It feels like no one plays that game!”

“Y-Yeah! I have all the DLC, and some amiibos too!”

“Okay, before we move on, I’ve gotta know… What do you main, bro?” He was serious, too. “I cannot be chummy with a charger main or a hydra main.”

Kiku cringed internally. “… E-liter.”

“Respectfully, from a dualie main, I can’t be friends with you, bro.”

“… Maybe you should move faster.”

“No, don’t give me that! I dread every game I have with a charger, let alone an E-liter, because my range is so short, and you all have the aim of God on Judgment Day!”

Although Kiku is unfamiliar with banter, this seemed to be the perfect moment for him to step in. “Well, I fear you make it very easy when you have two… maybe three moves up your sleeve.”

“Cut me some slack! I can only do so much with a Crab Tank. I have to assume you guys are using aimbot, and it’s even worse when they’re Japanese too, then I really know they’re about to wipe the floor with me and my team.”

“The best advice I can give is to just get better.”

“Say that again, and if I see you in a game, I’m targeting you. Forget the objective—it’s on sight.”

A small laugh bubbled from Kiku's throat, and it just felt so right.

Alfred also had an uncontrollable smile on his face. “I’m serious, dude. I’ve lost my rank so many times to some show-off snipers. You guys are the bane of my existence.”

A phone call from Alfred’s phone, resting near the gear shift. His eyes briefly flicker to it. Kiku sees that the caller is named Joseph. It makes no noise, but it does vibrate, which is what catches Alfred's attention.

“Uh, can you answer it and put it on speaker?” Kiku does what he’s told, swiping to answer, then putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey.” A young voice, likely one of Alfred’s friends from earlier.

“What’s up?”

“Where’re you at?”

“I’m on 101 right now. I’m heading back right now. You still at your place?”

“Yeah,” their voice sounded pretty relaxed. Kiku wouldn’t know. He’s never received a phone call from a friend, which sounds odd just saying it aloud. “Hey, um, Kaylie’s over here at our place. She said she was looking for you at your dorm.”

“What, why? What does she want?”

“Uh, she didn’t find you at your dorm, so she came over here. She said she was trying to call you forever now… I don’t know, man. She wants to talk to you, bro.”

Kiku noticed Alfred roll his eyes before getting off the highway. “Can she, like, wait? I’m with someone right now.” Kiku, though maybe he shouldn’t, felt nice about the mention.

The other end was silent for a second before Joseph spoke up again. “Nah, man, she wants to see you right now.”

“Is she there? Were you talking to her?”

“Yeah, bro. She’s like, keeping us hostage or something.”

Alfred stopped at a red light. His hands fell to his lap in exhaustion. He sighed heavily. “… ‘Kay, fine. I’ll be there in, like, five.” They told each other bye before hanging up. Kiku noticed that his push notifications are full of five missed calls from someone named Kaylie, and a few missed Snapchat messages.

Suddenly, he feels like he’s in the middle of something he shouldn’t be.

“Sorry, dude,” they moved once the light turned green, “I’ll take you home. I just gotta talk to her for a bit at my friend’s place.”

Kiku feels like he shouldn’t, but he asks anyway. “Who is she?”

Alfred shrugged his shoulders, eyes on the road. “I don’t know… I, uh, met her this summer at this beach party one of my friends was throwing over in Malibu. We got each other’s Snaps, right? Well, we’re talking, we like each other… and… I guess we’re like, in the talking stage, but not really dating? I dunno if you wanna hear that, but… She’s kinda just a situationship, I guess.”

“What is that?”

“What?”

“Situationship?”

He sighed, contemplating a bit. “It’s like… dating, but you’re not really exclusive, but you’d get mad if they started dating someone else. It’s confusing. Don’t… ever get into one.”

Kiku’s heart ached at dating.

So, he must be taken, or so it sounds. It’s not that it should matter all that much.

They’re just friends, after all. Why should Kiku care if Alfred dates around? It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. He’s handsome, he’s sweet, and he’s good-natured from the looks of it. He’s in college, and he’s a good-looking man, and he has the right to go perusing through the dating scene, maybe even sleep around a bit just for the sake of gaining experience… Test the waters, decide what you like and don’t like, and all that.

So, why does it still hurt? To hear all that?

The rest of their ride, Alfred didn’t feel like talking, as Kiku could discern. Kiku isn’t sure he wants to, either. Romance made itself sound easy, but when you’re in the middle of wanting someone to love and then loving them unconditionally, things get sticky. Perhaps that’s what Alfred feels, hopelessly searching for someone to love and for someone to love him unconditionally.

They enter a college neighborhood, another way to say that the next few blocks, there are frats, sororities, and rented townhouses belonging to primarily college students and maybe their parents. The area is nice with clean streets, well-maintained front lawns and gardens, and trees providing shade from the sun when it’s daylight. Kiku can bet a lot of parties and social gatherings happen on these streets or in these houses.

Alfred pulls up to the curb of one house, a double-story townhouse repping UCLA banners, a telltale sign that it’s a frat or some type of building run by college students. Kiku only knows it’s one because Alfred is here, and he also mentioned it was. Once parked, he grabs both McDonald’s bags.

“I’ll be back, ‘kay? Won’t take long.”

He left the car on—keys still in the ignition and the radio still playing quietly. He also left his phone here, too. As the overhead lights dimmed, Kiku took the time to shamelessly spy on whatever would happen next. There are two other cars here, a white Mercedes and another Jeep, funnily enough.

Alfred jogs up to the front door, ringing the doorbell. He waits for a bit under the front light’s dim glow. His friend, Joseph, presumably, opens after a while, briefly greeting him and taking the bags inside. Lo and behold, a brunette girl, hair tied up in a messy, high bun, wearing an oversized sweater over her frame, approaches Alfred. She wears shorts, though. Although from the looks of it, she wears no makeup, she is quite pretty.

Kaylie probably assumes that no one is in the car being nosy, so they talk at the front. Fortunate for Kiku, the one being nosy in the car. He wished he could have a way to hear what they were saying, but from the looks on their faces, Kaylie appeared disappointed, arms crossed, perfectly threaded eyebrows furrowed. Alfred appeared apologetic, his shoulders sunk a bit, his hand nervously rubbing his nape, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her.

For how built this man is, he stands quite meekly. Is it a bad time for Kiku to think it’s cute? Yes. Is he still going to dwell on it? Also yes.

Kiku has to assume that they’re discussing some miscommunication. She’s upset he did this or that, and now they’re setting things straight. It’s harder than it looks when silence is all Kiku has to work with. They talk for about ten minutes. It mostly doesn’t change for anything, but the real kicker has yet to punt Kiku in the chest.

They hug. It’s not the worst thing, but it’s just how they hug that gets Kiku. Alfred kisses the top of her head, just barely reaching his collar. Should he be happy that they seemingly sorted things out? Or should he acknowledge that he’s got a void in his chest? The former sounds the most sane, but the void is really hard to ignore.

They stay like that for a good minute. Can they not? Did Alfred forget that Kiku is still here, and he has no clue how to get home from here? What’s next? Are they going to start making out right here, right now? Or, even worse, is she going to ride with them?

Why is he overthinking this that much?

He really is getting in over his head. He should probably stop and be a good guest and mind his business.

They talk a little more as they hold one another, somewhat happier than when they first met. Kiku just has to watch, even if the sight repeatedly kicks him in the chest. Eventually, they kiss each other goodbye—she doesn’t join Alfred in coming back to the Jeep. It seems the Mercedes is hers. Alfred walks up, and Kiku has to pretend he wasn’t watching like a nosy neighbor. So, he pulls out his phone and opens the classic busy-looking app: the Weather app.

The door opens, the overhead lights turn on again, and Kiku is ever so inconspicuous.

“Sorry about that,” he gets in and shuts the door, “I had to deal with that real quick.”

Kiku lowers his phone momentarily, able to catch a glance of Alfred’s little smile. He’s smiling that little smile just for him. He just got kicked again. As a matter of fact, he’s getting curb-stomped relentlessly.

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’ll finally take you home now,” he chuckled.

At the same time, he really doesn’t mind the pain if he’s with him. It’s still the first time he’s ever felt like he wanted to stay with someone over going home. This is a strange feeling, alien to Kiku, who had normally kept a clean record of being introverted… only for it to be broken by this moment.

The ride from the neighborhood back to campus was pretty short. Upon arrival, Kiku realized that he and Alfred shared a parking lot.

“Dude, I park here too. Where’s your dorm?”

“Reiber Hall,” Kiku gathered his trash… like a good person, as Alfred said. “You?”

“Sunset Village.”

“You walk all the way from there?”

He shrugs with a half-smile. “It’s a nice distance to get the day started, so I thought, why not? Also, I like this a lot better. It’s smaller.”

To make Kiku’s wish to stay with Alfred a little truer, they’re able to walk together. He quite liked walking with him, as it gave him a purpose rather than what waited for him when he went back to his dorm.

“So… Are we still on for Saturday?” Alfred casually asked.

“Oh,” Kiku nodded eagerly. Maybe he shouldn’t have. “Yeah, yeah. What time is good for you?”

“Well, maybe, like 6? I usually am out of the gym by then. Y’know, after I shower and change and stuff. Is that good for you?”

“Yes, it is…” Should he mention something about tonight? They’re alone, and it’s likely the best time to say it. His mouth runs dry at first, but the closer they get to the dorm hall, the shorter his chances are of getting. “… Thank you for… taking me out tonight.” With that said, he gained a little more confidence. “And, for… for playing the game with me that night. It’s been a long time since I played with someone, and… you’re very fun.”

Alfred glances down at him, a little surprised at first, but he quickly smiles. It’s a little awkward, like he doesn’t know how else to respond, but it’s real, and that’s what Kiku cared about most of all. “Yeah, of course! Y’know… If you really wanna, we can hang out more often, or play games together if you’re busy and whatnot. Just send me a message on Snap… Oh, speaking of games, give me your username for the Switch, dude.”

Kiku wanted a piece of paper to write on, but Alfred just took a pen from his backpack and told him to write on his hand instead. He’s unfamiliar with touch, so he hastily writes it down before handing the pen back.

“Just saying,” Alfred shrugged, “if you wanna… I’m here, bro.”

“Y-Yeah, of course…” Wow, he’s even mimicking his words. Are they really that close? Kiku is a little frustrated.

“But, is this your dorm? I think this is Reiber Hall.”

Unfortunately, it is. Kiku glances at his written username on the back of Alfred’s hand before even replying. “It is… Uh,” he tried to smile, it’s awkward, again, then he tries to bow, “thank you… again. I really had fun tonight.”

“Anytime, dude. You’re cool—I like you. I’ll see you around, ‘kay?”

“You too.” Alfred waves him off, and so does Kiku, but just raises his hand and doesn’t actually wave. He then walks off, presumably to his own dorm.

Bow?!

Kiku wanted to smack himself. Did he seriously just try to bow… like he’s back home? He’s probably thinking about how much of a loser he was the whole time. His mind was preoccupied the entire time as he made it to his dorm. While he went to communal bathrooms, took a brief shower, brushed his teeth, and washed his face, it’s all he can think about.

Or, more like, Alfred is all he can think about.

He really wants to see him again.

He really… wants to draw him. Kiku hasn’t had that thought in a while, but he’s truly a character to draw, capture in drawing. Has he ever had the urge that strong, especially to a person?

Once he returned to his dorm, Kiku remembered to check his Switch. He really should avoid screentime before bed, but he had to know if Alfred had potentially added him as a friend. There Kiku was, knees to chest, eyes not seven inches from the screen on a Monday. What has happened in the past few days?

His heart skipped a beat seeing that little blue dot under his profile picture. His thumbs never moved faster to tap on the icon, seeing a friend request from Al ☆. He never accepted a request any faster, and the little chime afterward sent his heart racing. His Mii was cute too. His two other friends were from Japan, and he hadn’t talked or played with them in years, so seeing a new addition was truly ecstatic.

Going to bed, Kiku couldn’t stop tossing and turning. He couldn’t wait for Saturday—he just couldn’t.