The Web Café buzzed with a low electric hum, neon lights flickering across the glossy tabletops like lazy fireflies. Yuki sat across from Seven, fingers tightening around her mug of hot chocolate as she followed his gaze toward the glass doors. Someone tall and shadowy blocked the light for a moment before stepping fully inside.
The newcomer's presence swallowed the room.
He was tall—almost towering—his long black hair tied loosely behind his shoulders, cascading past his waist with jagged layers. Multiple piercings glimmered under the blue fluorescence: eyebrow, lip, and more rings along both ears. The rest of the café barely looked up, almost as if they were used to his dramatic entrances.
Seven lifted a hand.
"Sammy!"
Sammy smirked and strutted forward with smooth, confident steps. When his eyes landed on Yuki, they sparkled with recognition, though they had never met before.
"So…" He placed one hand on his hip. "You must be the famous Yuki."
Yuki blinked. "Famous?"
"Oh, sweetheart." Sammy clicked his tongue dramatically. "You have made quite the buzz these past couple of weeks. The webs are talking. The feeds are talking. Even the shadows are talking."
Seven groaned softly, leaning back in his chair. "Sammy, don't start."
"I'm not starting," Sammy said, waving him off. "I'm simply saying what everyone else won't say to her face."
He crouched to Yuki's eye level, inspecting her with a tilt of his head, his piercings tinkling softly.
"You're going to need protection," Sammy declared. "Good protection. Come by my shop later, Seven—and bring Yuki. I'll set her up."
Seven nodded. "Will do."
Sammy winked at Yuki before strutting away, the entire room watching him like he was a celebrity leaving a film set.
Once the door closed behind him, Seven turned to her again, resting his elbow on the table.
"So, Yuki…" he asked gently, "what do you like to do for fun?"
For a moment, Yuki stared at her reflection in the hot chocolate—at the girl who hadn't smiled properly in weeks. Her voice came out small and gloomy.
"I guess… video games. And photography."
She swallowed. "But I guess both of those things are out of the picture now."
Seven's eyebrows jumped. "Out of the picture? Who told you that?"
"I just thought…" She shrugged weakly. "Everything's changed."
Seven leaned in, his voice brightening with sudden excitement.
"Well you're in luck."
Yuki blinked at him. "Huh?"
"We have a video game store down the street," Seven said with a grin. "They sell retro cameras too. Like, old Y2K stuff. Very aesthetic."
Yuki straightened in her seat, stunned. "Wait—really?"
"Yes! Come on. Let's go."
He hopped up from the table, sliding his jacket over his shoulders. Yuki hesitated for only a second before rising to follow him. For the first time in a long while, a small spark of joy flickered inside her chest, warming her in a way the hot chocolate couldn't.
Seven held the door open. "After you."
The air outside was crisp, carrying the city's usual cocktail of traffic, roasted street food, and faint, metallic coldness. Seven walked beside her, humming lightly, hands in his pockets. Yuki found herself clutching her bag to her chest, trying to hide the tiny smile forming.
"This is the most joy I've felt in a while," she murmured without thinking.
Seven heard.
He didn't comment—he just smiled, softly, like he was relieved to see her happy.
They turned a corner where a warm yellow glow spilled from a small shop window decorated with colorful posters and blinking lights. The sign above read in bubbly letters:
Pixel Realm: Games & Retro Cameras
As soon as they stepped inside, a wave of nostalgia hit her.
Bright pixel-art murals covered the walls. Rows of vintage consoles lined glass shelves: GameCube, PlayStation 2, Dreamcast, even old Game Boys. The back corner held a cabinet filled with cameras—silver, boxy, old-school, each with personality.
"Whoa…" Yuki breathed out, her eyes wide. "This is amazing."
Seven gave her a playful nudge. "Didn't I tell you?"
She wandered toward the camera section first. Her hands hovered over a pastel pink digital camera that looked straight out of 2002. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up.
"It's so cute…" she whispered.
"I can already picture you with it," Seven said. "You'd take good photos."
Yuki blushed faintly. "I… hope so."
Seven shrugged casually. "You will."
He drifted toward another aisle before suddenly pointing at a display near the front.
"Hey, Yuki—check this one out!"
She turned to see him holding a bright, holographic case for a dress-up game. The cover image sparkled with rainbow colors.
"This would be fun to play together," he said, grinning ear to ear.
Yuki felt her chest warm again. The heaviness she'd been carrying began to lift—not completely, but enough to feel lighter.
"Yeah," she said softly. "It really would."
After a few more moments exploring, they checked out the store. Yuki walked out with a small bag containing the pink camera, courtesy of Seven insisting on paying "for her first day of fun."
She skipped—actually skipped—out of the store. Her hair bounced, her bag swayed, and Seven followed behind with his hands tucked behind his head, amused.
"Well, look at you," Seven teased. "I didn't know you could smile that big."
"I didn't know either…" Yuki replied quietly.
But before their moment could stretch, a familiar voice called out:
"Did you two forget already?"
Sammy.
He stood at the corner of the street, arms crossed, foot tapping dramatically.
Seven slapped his forehead. "Right. Sammy's shop. I forgot."
Sammy motioned for them to follow. "Come along, children. The night's still young."
Yuki and Seven exchanged a glance before heading after him.
---
Sammy's Shop
Sammy's shop was nothing short of glamorous—a sensory explosion of fashion, art, and theatrical personality.
The moment they walked in, Yuki felt swallowed by a world of color and elegance. High-end designer outfits hung from golden racks. Mannequins displayed avant-garde coats and Lolita-inspired dresses. The walls were painted a deep cherry red, lined with ornate gold frames showcasing lavish paintings.
It felt like stepping into a fashion designer's dream palace.
Sammy clapped his hands excitedly.
"Alright, girly—sit."
Yuki blinked. "Sit?"
He pointed to a sleek white salon chair in the center of the room. "Yes. Sit. Now."
Seven chuckled and nudged her forward. "Go on."
Yuki hesitated, but she obeyed, sitting nervously in the chair as Sammy quickly draped a black cloth over her shoulders.
"Let's see what we're working with," he said, circling her like a sculptor examining a block of marble.
Seven leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching with mild curiosity.
Sammy reached for a pair of scissors. "This might feel scary, but trust me. I never miss."
Yuki's heart thumped. "Wait—what are you doing?"
"Making you beautiful," Sammy replied simply. "Or at least giving you a look that screams 'I belong here.'"
Her breath hitched as the first lock of her hair hit the floor.
Then another.
And another.
Strands fell left and right like soft feathers drifting off her shoulders. Yuki shut her eyes, half-anxious, half-excited.
Sammy worked fast, his movements precise, almost artistic. He trimmed, carved, shaped—each snip transforming her piece by piece. Seven watched quietly, his eyes softening with every new change.
Finally, Sammy spun the chair around.
"Open."
Yuki slowly lifted her eyelids.
She gasped.
Her hair was short—soft and layered, curling slightly toward her cheeks. He added cute bangs that framed her face perfectly. The style gave her a doll-like appearance, delicate yet bold. Combined with her big eyes and shy expression, she looked like a real-life Lolita doll.
Sammy placed his hands on his hips proudly.
"Isn't she adorable?"
Seven's face turned red.
"Y—yeah…"
Yuki touched her hair gently. Her reflection stared back at her with a confidence she hadn't felt in months.
"I look… different," she whispered.
"Good different," Sammy corrected. "You look like you."
Seven stepped forward. "You really do."