Chapter Text
It would all be worth it in the end. That's what Natsuki kept telling herself.
She would just need to keep this horrible job for a couple more months. Then, she would have enough savings to move on to bigger and better things.
Her third year of high school was almost over. She had already made it into a university in the city, a creative writing program that would hopefully serve as a stepping stone to becoming the manga writer she wanted to be. The tuition was manageable—as long as she took out a few small loans to cover it—but she wasn't going to be able to bear another year living with her deadbeat father in their cramped, ramshackle home.
It might have been within perfectly good commuting distance from the university, but she yearned to have a space for herself, somewhere she could actually have friends over and keep her manga collection on display rather than carefully hidden away in the recesses of classroom broom closets.
Working at a movie theatre had been the last thing she expected. She had been betting on getting hired at the specialty manga store a few blocks down from her house—God knew she had better expertise than the posers who worked there—but they cited her lack of work experience and frosty attitude during the interview as reason enough to pass on to other candidates.
Fine by her. The cinema knew that she was more competent than those guys could ever be.
Natsuki stared off from her position at the ticket podium. The theatre wasn’t very busy today. Every film had started around half an hour ago, leaving her in the torturous limbo until the next guests would arrive.
She sighed, drummed her fingers on the surface of the podium, then finally glanced at the arcade games crowded into a corner of the lobby.
The area was just as poorly maintained as the rest of the building. A photo booth sat tucked into one of the dusty corners, curtain drawn wide open like it had been for the past three months. The games flashed periodically in a rainbow of colours, yellows and reds flickering intermittently on a crane game, while neon blues melted into purples, pinks, and reds on a dinosaur shooter. Natsuki distantly wondered who would actually play those dumb games other than little kids.
Suddenly, Sayori—literature club Sayori—burst through the front doors, stumbling over to the podium in a rush and scrambling to pull up her tickets on her phone. Her little pink crossbody purse struggled to stay seated on her shoulder, and Sayori hastily pulled it back up by the strap while simultaneously trying to tuck her messy hair back behind her ear.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I’m sorry—Natsuki?” Sayori gasped.
Natsuki only greeted her with a customer-service grimace.
“Tickets, please.”
Sayori gave her an empty blink before pointing at herself insistently.
“It’s me, Sayori!”
“I know that,” Natsuki snapped.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Natsuki chose not to respond and instead thrust her ticket scanner forward, making a demand without words. Sayori obediently held out her phone with the barcode displayed at full brightness.
Beep!
"That's going to be in theatre three, right down the hall and to your left," Natsuki said.
Sayori tilted her head in confusion, a little pout coming to her lips.
"Why are you acting like you don't know me?" she said.
The pitiful expression on her face almost made Natsuki's shoulders loosen.
“I’m working, Sayori.”
“I didn’t know you worked at the movie theatre.”
Natsuki shrugged.
"I wasn't really planning on telling anyone."
"You should have told me! Do you get a discount on the arcade? I love the arcade," she said.
Natsuki raised an eyebrow. There was her answer. Of course, Sayori would play those games.
Sayori was even looking towards them now, her eyes scanning over the neon rainbow like she wished she had arrived to play just a few minutes earlier.
Maybe the games were fun after all. Sayori wouldn't play them if they weren't.
"No, we don't. Free movies, though," Natsuki shrugged, "Even then, I take too many shifts to have the free time to—Hello, how can I help you today?"
A customer had come up to the podium. Natsuki grabbed the guest's ticket, tore the perforated edge of the slip, then handed it back with a little bow.
"You're going to be in theatre five, that's all the way down the hall and to your right. Thanks for coming!"
Natsuki turned back to Sayori— "As I was saying…"— before scowling at her expression. Sayori was gawking at her in a way that was steadily getting on her nerves.
"What."
"I've never seen you smile before."
Natsuki rolled her eyes. Sayori obviously had to have seen her smile before. She smiled plenty. Literature club wasn't that miserable.
"It's part of the job description. Getting fired really isn't at the top of my priority list at the moment."
"And what is?" Sayori asked.
"Getting through this shift without pesky club members bothering me."
Sayori giggled and Natsuki had to avert her eyes from the attention.
“You're not going to go see your movie?” Natsuki asked, pointing a thumb behind her towards the cinema doors.
Sayori hummed noncommittally. Natsuki face palmed then pressed her fingers into the space between her eyes like she was relieving unnecessary stress.
She would never understand Sayori.
Why was she here? Running into a theatre for a movie that had surely reached a plot point of no return while standing here idly chatting.
“You’re going to get me fired.”
Sayori looked back and forth like she was trying to spot the issue.
“You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I’m talking with my friend while on the clock.”
Natsuki couldn't help but straighten her posture at her own sentence. A supervisor could be nearby. They always chided employees who chattered with buddies on company time.
Sayori pushed forward and playfully rested her hands on Natsuki's shoulder, jostling it back and forth.
“That’s okay, I’m a customer! You’re just helping me out.”
Natsuki elbowed Sayori's stomach and she stepped away with a laugh.
Sayori was only allowed to put her hands on her when her dignity wasn't on the line.