[ predictably, nobara spends most of the train ride to shinjuku engaging in idle conversation with sometimes dumb and dumber while either scrolling mindlessly through several (read: way too many) social media applications or on her camera app. whether she's taking selfies, photos of the pretty pink sky or snapshots of the two dummies she's with — only she knows! she's gotten so very good at discretely taking pictures of itadori and fushiguro, saving them as blackmail material in a secret album.
she seems uninterested now, but she was talking herself up a storm when they made these plans last week. they will probably remember her telling them she'd kick their sorry asses at every game (name any game! i'll beat you, she'd said) and make them carry all her (their) prizes home. empty threats, because she doesn't bring up winning all the games again.
little do they know... she has so many games on that cursed piece of technology, she just also keeps them tucked away in a folder that's hidden in plain sight. or rather like, on the fourth page of her phone screen. anyway, she doesn't show her hand because she wants them to be blown the hell away by her skills — even though she is actually absolutely amazing at smash bros it's true gege said so — she's dead set on acting like she's Bored and Distracted when she's actually excited.
they get to their destination without incident (surprise!) and a wave of nostalgia washes over her like a tidal wave. a memory is unlocked— having frequented the one (1) game center in her hometown with fumi after school in her early middle school days. but in that same breath, she gets a waft of a very specific scent and that is the scent of... smelly and sweaty teenaged boys. she is suddenly reminded as to why she vowed to never come back to these kinds of places.
the things she does, for her friends.
when itadori spins around to face them, nobara is making a face; her brows knitted and her nose scrunched up in mild disgust. ]
I told you guys that I hate U.B.S.S.D. [ not like what she says matters because he's flitting to the next shiny thing he sees, before pointing at fushiguro and embarrassing him with how loud he is, she's sure. in any case! nobara crosses her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the tiles of the floor as she looks over to squint at fushiguro. ] Well, Fushiguro? Is it? If you don't say yes, we're moving onto the next machine.
/)_(\
she seems uninterested now, but she was talking herself up a storm when they made these plans last week. they will probably remember her telling them she'd kick their sorry asses at every game (name any game! i'll beat you, she'd said) and make them carry all her (their) prizes home. empty threats, because she doesn't bring up winning all the games again.
little do they know... she has so many games on that cursed piece of technology, she just also keeps them tucked away in a folder that's hidden in plain sight. or rather like, on the fourth page of her phone screen. anyway, she doesn't show her hand because she wants them to be blown the hell away by her skills — even though she is actually absolutely amazing at smash bros
it's true gege said so— she's dead set on acting like she's Bored and Distracted when she's actually excited.they get to their destination without incident (surprise!) and a wave of nostalgia washes over her like a tidal wave. a memory is unlocked— having frequented the one (1) game center in her hometown with fumi after school in her early middle school days. but in that same breath, she gets a waft of a very specific scent and that is the scent of... smelly and sweaty teenaged boys. she is suddenly reminded as to why she vowed to never come back to these kinds of places.
the things she does, for her friends.
when itadori spins around to face them, nobara is making a face; her brows knitted and her nose scrunched up in mild disgust. ]
I told you guys that I hate U.B.S.S.D. [ not like what she says matters because he's flitting to the next shiny thing he sees, before pointing at fushiguro and embarrassing him with how loud he is, she's sure. in any case! nobara crosses her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the tiles of the floor as she looks over to squint at fushiguro. ] Well, Fushiguro? Is it? If you don't say yes, we're moving onto the next machine.