90 minutes later, the trio emerged from the theater alongside a crowd of parents and children.
“Sir Mittens! Uwaaagh! You finally got to meet your mom!” Koyuki all but screamed through floods of tears.
“Here—a handkerchief,” Naoya offered as he handed it over.
She thanked him while sniffing and wiping her nose. In an alarmingly short amount of time, the handkerchief became saturated with liquid.
“You’re gonna dehydrate yourself crying that much. Here,” he added, handing her the juice he hadn’t finished during the movie. She accepted it and began taking small, weak sips. Naoya cautiously waited for her to calm down before following up on the movie. “Man, those reviews weren’t lying. They might’ve even underrated it a little.”
“The part where Lord Paws pretended to betray Sir Mittens just so he could let him take the ship’s last escape pod was really poignant. It got me right in my heart,” Sakuya quickly added. The faint rush of adrenaline in her voice, in addition to the faint tinge of pink in her cheeks, belied her excitement. She was still riding the movie high. “The director is also working on a TV anime this season—it’s a fantasy, I think. You should watch it. The main heroine is moe as fuck.”
“I’ve heard about it, but I haven’t seen it. Looks pretty cool, though,” Naoya replied.
“You’ll be missing out on one of life’s great experiences if you don’t. I’ll give you the source material, too, so you can write a report on it for me.”
“I do love passionate people, haha...” Naoya replied. She was a fun girl, in a way.
Naoya felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Koyuki holding the empty cup. Although he initially suspected she was going to ask him for a refill, her small pout and drooping shoulders made her displeasure evident.
“We’re supposed to be on a date. Talking to other girls is gonna... make you lose points,” she grumbled in a low tone.
Naoya didn’t reply—instead, he and Sakuya exchanged a meaningful look and nodded to each other.
“Why are you two being so quiet? Stop it,” Koyuki protested.
“You know what, Sakuya? 2D girls are great, but I feel the 3D world calling to me,” Naoya suddenly declared with bravado.
“I understand. The real world has a certain ‘je ne sais quoi,’ doesn’t it?”
“Oh, come on! Stop talking to just Sakuya!” Koyuki pouted. It seemed she had finally finished bawling over the movie and had returned to her usual self. Koyuki thrust Naoya’s now-empty cup back into his hands and folded her arms indignantly, “Listen, Sasahara—you’re supposed to be giving me a good time here. If you’re just gonna talk... to...”
She never managed to finish her thought, however, as something caught her eye behind Naoya and Sakura. They turned around to follow her gaze and found the mysterious siren song that had captured her attention—a crane game machine in front of the mall’s game center. And, upon closer examination, Naoya could spot a familiar character in the pile of plushies.
“They’ve got Sir Mittens!” Koyuki cried out with a dramatic point. Without waiting for the other two, she quickly trotted off in the direction of the game center.
Naoya had no time to stop her. He just smiled to himself and murmured, “How am I supposed to help you have a good time if you’re all the way over there? You coming too, Sakuya?”
“I will put some distance between us and observe from a distance so as not to upset Koyuki any more,” Sakuya replied coolly. She went to leave, but something made her change her mind. She turned back to Naoya and informed him in her usual flat tone, “Koyuki tries to act mature, but as you can see, she’s quite childish and something of a crybaby. In spite of this, you still find her enjoyable to be around?”
“Yeah, I really do, I think.” Naoya agreed. He folded his arms and began to contemplate Sakuya’s words. It was true that Koyuki was certainly hard to please—not to mention somewhat selfish—but Naoya had never once felt annoyed by her. He realized Sakuya was still staring at him, so he flashed an embarrassed smile and continued, “I mean, whenever she acts like that, she’s letting her guard down and being herself. It makes me happy that I get to see that.”
“You might actually be strange enough for Koyuki after all,” Sakuya surmised. Her face underwent the briefest of changes—so small that anyone who wasn’t Naoya would have missed it. For just a split second, a faint smile appeared on her lips. “I’ll see you later. Don’t disappoint me.”
“You got it. I’ll go babysit your sister now,” Naoya joked.
Naoya scanned the game center for his date before he found Koyuki pinned up against the glass of the crane game machine and breathing heavily. She was staring at the mountain of cat plushies on the other side with an intense hunger.
“Sir Mittens plushies... They’re so big...” she marveled.
“You want one?” Naoya asked.
“Ye—” she almost exclaimed, but quickly stopped herself and dropped her gaze to her feet. “I mean, no, these are for kids. I don’t like plushies and stuff like that.”
“Really?”
“What?” Koyuki appeared surprised by his question. When she looked up, she saw Naoya smiling.
“You said you’d start being honest with yourself, right?” he pressed. “And you did great when we were with Yui and Tatsumi. No need to hold back with me.”
Koyuki averted her eyes. She realized Naoya wasn’t going to let this go. Her shoulders dropped, and she confessed, “I love plushies. I have lots in my room, and they’re all over my bed.”
“Thought so.”
“It’s so childish, though...”
“What? No! It’s cute. I’m not gonna laugh at your hobbies or anything,” Naoya assured her. Despite replying honestly, it only caused Koyuki to clam up on the spot. He was baffled at her response. Was it something I said? Maybe the “not laughing at her” part? he pondered and cocked his head to the side. Whatever the reason, it seemed he’d struck a nerve. The best course of action was to move past it and work on getting the mood back on track.
He rolled his sleeves up and turned toward the crane game. “Which one do you want?”
“Um... Uh, th-the smiling one... in the right corner,” she answered quietly.
“Got it. Gimme a sec.”
In this specific situation, there was only one thing for a man on a date to do. He placed the coin in the machine with vigor and a sense of determination. The machine sprung to life with cheery mechanical music and a jerk of its claw. Sadly, his first attempt ended in utter defeat—he had not come remotely close to the plushie.
“You’re not that good at this kind of stuff, are you?” Koyuki asked meekly.