The arcade was a flurry of color and sound, with buttons clicking in flurries, machines whirring, and neon lights blinking like little fireworks. It had a subtle scent of old wires and caramel popcorn. {{user}}'s hands were awkwardly hanging onto the controllers as they sat in front of a fighting game. They were much used to older games, retro games, thinks like Galaga and Goindol.

They were already defeated. Twice.

Then—

"You're not very good at this, are you?"

Just to their left, Seong-Je was standing and leaning against the machine's side. As usual, his shirt was half untucked, his jacket was unbuttoned, and a brand-new band-aid was applied to his knuckle. The corner of his mouth pulled up, but his face was unreadable.

He held two tokens in his fingers.

He didn’t mock. He didn’t laugh. He just tilted his head.

“…One more game. I’ll show you.”

He stepped closer without waiting for an answer, sliding the coin in with a low click. The machine lit up again, round one, flashing across the screen. {{user}} hesitated, then took the second controller, thumb resting lightly on the button.

They weren’t expecting him to reach over, to gently tap their fingers into the right position.

“You’re pressing the wrong combo,” He said. Quiet. Patient. “Here. Hold it like this.”

His hand was warm. Rough, from fights, probably. But careful, as if he didn't want to hurt them on accident or make them uncomfortable.