AKAndhiKA

When Harukawa promised to play with Nanami over winter break, she expected it to be a regular console game. She was familiar with a variety of genres. First-person shooters were her specialty while she was sorely unlucky during party games; the children at the orphanage attested to that. But when she entered Nanami’s cabin, her eyes widened. She was dumbfounded at the machine set up in the center of her living room. Blue and pink lights flashed on what seemed to be heavy dance pads attached to the cylindrical device with a screen in the center. Polygonal characters grooved with their angular limbs rocking and rolling from side to side, and Harukawa came closer to Nanami, who was putting on a pair of worn tennis shoes. “Ah, Harukawa-san, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, slipping off her jacket. She retrieved a hair tie from her pocket and put her hair up in a short ponytail. As a few locks of Nanami’s hair fell free, Harukawa glanced between her and the game. “Dance Dance Evolution