Story: Cross a Witch

 

Namika leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping out a restless beat on the wood. The low hum of the air conditioner mixed with the chaos from the arcade below-electronic bleeps, fake explosions, and the shrieks of teenagers losing at a fighting game. They complained about cheap hits, but the sound of coins dropping meant they kept coming back for more.

There were about five customers drifting through the aisles. They moved like ghosts in a bright, neon graveyard. Namika had to blink a few times to refocus. Her vision stretched, but it wasn't just her eyes working now-it felt like her mind was leaking out into the air, picking up raw, buzzing emotion, snippets of thought sparkling around her like soap bubbles.

She skipped over the kid sweating about his math test, brushed past the idol-obsessed girl, and barely spared a glance for the anxious mom and the dramatic vampire cosplayer. Then she spotted a boy practically glued to a shelf of first-party games. He wore a button-down shirt tucked so tightly into his khakis he might choke, and clutched a game case as if it might blow up in his hands.

Inside his head, the noise was deafening: 'I don't even like video games, but she's so cute. Never thought I'd meet a gamer girl who looks like that. Maybe if I tried playing, we'd have something to talk about...'

Namika caught the taste of his nerves-sour, sticky, miserable. He stared with laser focus at a girl a few aisles away.

That girl-Hana-was a bundle of energy, scribbling through the store in a big t-shirt splashed with a pixel dragon, headphones resting on her neck. She snatched games off the shelf, checked the back for developers, scoffed at bad frame rates, and slammed them back down with dramatic flair.

Never thought she looked like a gamer, huh? That's what happens when you don't pay attention, Namika thought. At least now she could see why he was captivated.

The boy-Kenji, according to his briefcase-took a weak step forward. Then another back. He eyed the 'Legend of the Azure Blade' cover, like it might turn on him. 'What's a 'Souls-like'? Do you fight ghosts? Or is the sword haunted? If I ask the clerk and she finds out I don't know, I'm done-I might as well disappear.'

Honestly, Namika couldn't help it anymore. Her "fixer" instincts kicked in full blast. She hopped over the counter, landing beside Kenji with a surprisingly quiet thud.

"That game's pretty punishing for newcomers!" she said, grinning as she pointed to the case in his trembling hand.

Kenji almost dropped the thing. He scrambled back, trying to hold it together. "I-it's not for a beginner!" he insisted, voice cracking. "I'm a, um, seasoned veteran! Of, uh... games!"

Namika just smiled wider. She didn't even need to read his thoughts this time-his panic was practically glowing. 'She knows I'm faking it. I only play Solitaire at my grandma's house.'

The color of his thoughts was so loud, Namika rubbed her temple, half-expecting a migraine.

"Oh, a veteran?" she teased. "Then the parry-window in chapter three won't scare you at all. Right? That precision timing is a nightmare."

Kenji blinked. "The... parry... window?"

"Yeah! But if you're trying to impress someone," she said, her eyes darting to where Hana was busy dismantling RPGs, "something with a story might be smarter. That way you can get advice. And when people get to be the expert, they feel like heroes."

Kenji's hope sparked for a second. "You know?"

Namika nodded like she'd just read the script to his life. "Of course! You're on a quest. A romantic one. You and your spreadsheets want to cross into the world of pixels and boss battles, and I'm here to help."

Now it was Kenji's turn to whisper like he was plotting a bank heist. "I'm actually an accountant. I have no idea how these consoles work. I only noticed Hana because she was reading a strategy guide in the park and-well-she seemed amazing."

Namika almost felt bad for him. This kid looked lost in the woods without a map.

"Right, mission time," she said quietly, "first put that down-'Azure Blade' is for people who like pain. You want something friendlier."

She yanked him toward the indie section, ignoring his bewildered look. "Here," she said, stopping at a cute, colorful game. "'Cosmic Garden.' You plant stars to save the galaxy. It's sweet, easy to pick up, and-this part matters-it's the perfect excuse to ask someone for guidance."

Kenji squinted at the case. "Planting... stars?"

"It's perfect," Namika said. "Just don't walk up and hand it to her like you're passing a note in class. You need an icebreaker-not a confession."

Kenji looked stricken. "I don't have an icebreaker. I've got a briefcase and a phobia."

Namika rolled her eyes. "Not a problem. Make me your icebreaker."

She didn't give him time to argue. She marched right over to Hana, who was now grilling a used RPG about its battle system.

"Sorry to interrupt your research!" Namika announced, loud enough for the store to notice. "But my friend is having a crisis-and it's not about inventory. He needs expert help, stat."

Hana glanced up, analytical. Her gaze swept over Kenji, saw his bright red face and shaking hands, then took in the game he was clutching.

"Crisis?" Hana repeated. "He look sick to you?" Her voice was cool, more amused than worried.

"You could say that," Namika replied. She gave Kenji a nudge forward. "He's totally new to games and doesn't want to pick a bad one. I think he's forgotten how to breathe."

Kenji shot Namika a mortified look. This wasn't the image he wanted, but Namika pressed on: honesty wins.

Hana eyed him, then the game. A tiny smile flickered on her lips. "So you don't play at all?"

He tried to speak, choked, and finally squeaked out, "No. I'm an accountant."

Hana actually seemed to relax at that. Her thoughts changed. Most guys bluff, she figured, but Kenji owned up. That was something.

"Well," she said, crossing her arms, "'Cosmic Garden' is nice and all, but chapter two has clunky controls. If you're serious, start with 'Nebula Drift.' Much better intro."

Kenji blinked, like she'd handed him a grammar test. "Nebula...?"

"'Nebula Drift'," Hana repeated. "I'm heading to the café in ten minutes. Bring a copy, and maybe I'll show you how to survive your first boss battle."

Kenji all but lit up from inside. "I will. I'll find one. I'll-"

"Just one's enough," Hana said, cutting him off, but she almost smiled as she turned away.

Kenji turned to Namika, awestruck. He looked ready to hug her or offer up his bank account.

"You did it. It worked. How?!"

Namika clapped him on the back-hard enough to nearly knock him over. "You're honest, that's why! Now go, before she takes pity on someone else."

Kenji dashed away, his briefcase flapping, heart probably pounding in his ears.

Namika let herself melt into the shelves, warm and full of purpose. Not bad for a day's work-a genuine matchmaking miracle hidden among puzzle games and neon lights.

A vampire cosplayer stared, her confusion obvious. 'Did she just engineer a date using a puzzle game? Is she some kind of agent? Did I join a cult by accident?'

Namika just gave her a wink. "Just another day on the job!"

She barely made it back to the counter before Sukeyasu, Senichi, Chino, and Agatha returned from lunch. Sukeyasu started inspecting her for signs of disaster, while Chino stepped up with her manager face on.

"So. Did you burn the place down, or just sell all our retro games for pocket change?" Chino deadpanned.

Namika flashed her brightest smile. "No disasters! Just spread some love. Helped a lost soul in the indie corner!"

Sukeyasu adjusted his glasses. "Your work habits make less sense every day."

"It's called hero work," Namika said, sticking her tongue out.

Senichi leaned on the counter, his eyes teasing. "Hero, huh? Did you at least put on a cape? Please say it was flattering."

Chino's hand cracked across the back of Senichi's head before he even finished.

"Get back to work. No more commentary on costumes," Chino barked.

Meanwhile, Agatha-the resident witch-hovered closer, her eyes narrowed as if she could sense what Namika just pulled.

"So, you're useful after all," Agatha muttered. "Don't get a big head. Playing Cupid once doesn't make you an expert. You're still just the nice girl who can't say no to anyone."

Namika didn't feel insulted, though. She saw it, a hidden thought swimming under Agatha's scowl: 'That was clever. Didn't expect it from her. Maybe this won't be boring at all.'

Namika's smile grew, but she kept it to herself. Out loud, she just said: "I'm getting better. Fast learner, you know."

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Then help me look for 'Magic Mirror' in retro. If you're done playing matchmaker, maybe you can find something useful for once."