It was well past 3:00 on the clock, and Rick was starting to get the urge to eat. All this tension, the constant thoughts about his plans and games, the sleepless nights behind the screen, the new account upgrades and perfect strategies for the game. It was all draining his strength and energy. His body was starting to pull treacherously towards the refrigerator, but suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Hmm, who the hell is that?" - Rick blurted out, and he irritably went to the door. He didn't want anyone bothering him, but curiosity took over. He wasn't expecting visitors. As he approached the peephole, he saw the same messenger, a guy in a yellow uniform, with ragged hair and tired eyes, as if he'd just run a marathon across town. The young man looked to be in his twenties, and his face was familiar to Rick. It wasn't the first time this guy had been here.
"What the hell?" - Rick muttered, squinting irritably. But immediately realized who was standing at his door. He already knew it had to do with Sato. The other one was always playing games, but his games were never simple. He was like a chess player who manipulated the pieces on the board, keeping everyone in suspense, and Rick was one of those pieces.
Wasting no time, Rick promptly sprinted over to the voice synthesizer, turned it on and, adding softness and a bit of femininity to his voice, said: "Put everything on the floor, please."
The courier, as usual, didn't say a word. Just nodded and obediently left the heavy packages by the door, turned and walked away without looking back. It was so typical of Sato. He always stayed in the shadows, leaving only indirect traces, and his gestures were as anonymous as possible, keeping people guessing and worried.
As the door closed, Rick sighed and looked at the packages. He realized that this was far from a coincidence. The food wasn't just food. This was all part of some much bigger plan that Sato had obviously developed long ago. This was another one of his games, and Rick was no longer just a player. He was one of those who should have felt like he was in control of the situation. However, that wasn't happening. Sato was always one step ahead, and Rick couldn't help but feel that perhaps he was the one being manipulated. The phone rang again, Rick picked it up, Sato spoke first;
- What's up? Did the courier deliver the package? Enjoy
Rick sighed, hiding his mixed emotions behind the synthesizer voice.
- "You never cease to amaze me... But it's still too much, Sato. You've bought them so many times. It's embarrassing, really."
A quiet, satisfied laugh sounded on the other end of the wire.
- "Scarlet, awkwardness doesn't suit a woman like you. You're used to conquering the world, so take it for granted. Or do I have to ask permission to spoil you?"
Rick froze for a second, trying not to give away his nervousness.
- "No, of course not, but..."
- "Then it's settled," Sato interrupted her with a confident note in his voice.
- "Sato, it's too much," Rik said, turning on the synthesizer again.
- "There's no word 'too much' for you," came the satisfied reply. - "You're my princess, and I want you to feel that way."
Rick froze for a moment. Sato's words sounded so sincere that he couldn't help but wonder what was behind the overprotectiveness.
- "Okay, thanks," Rick finally replied, trying not to think too much. - "You always take such good care of me."
- "Of course I do. But I've got to go, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself. And remember, I'm always here for you."
The call ended. Rick sank tiredly to the floor, running his hand over his face.
Afterward, Rick picked up the heavy packages and immediately realized - this wasn't just for him. This was meant for a lot of people. It wasn't just standard groceries inside. No. It was a selection that started from simple and cheap snacks and went all the way up to expensive, gourmet delicacies. Sato wanted to make a mark. He wanted Scarlet to feel that her life wasn't just caught up in this game. She was part of something much bigger than he could have imagined.
Rick began to sort through the package, his hands sliding through the packaging, opening each box, each bag. Inside were strange combinations - fried appetizers, chips, sushi, sandwiches, and even desserts that could have graced the menu of a five-star restaurant. And it was all perfectly packaged, as if the order had been placed especially for a special person. At this moment, as he looked at the food with interest, his thoughts stopped on one thing. Sato had once again demonstrated his ability to be invisible. But Rick, despite all his pride, couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. With each passing minute, his interest in what Sato was up to was only growing. There were thoughts of giving up on this game, though it was a pity for the character's account at the time. Still, he immersed himself in it with every move, every sign left by Sato.
"What's he up to?" - Rick whispered, continuing to sort through the packages. Even though he knew this was just another act in a bigger game, he could still feel the game slowly drawing him in. Pushing away all anxious thoughts, Rick lowered himself to the floor, surrounded by boxes of food, and picked up the first thing that came to hand. It was hot chicken wings covered in an appetizing glaze. The fried aroma hit his nose, awakening a voracious appetite. He took a greedy bite, savoring the crispy crust and succulent meat. His apartment, usually quiet and almost lifeless, was filled at that moment with the sounds of rustling packages and the aromas of freshly cooked food.
He didn't even notice the door creak open, letting Mika in. Her energetic voice broke the silence:
- Brother, I'm home! Are you still asleep, sleepyhead? Or, maybe, again in the game hung up? - She took off her jacket, threw it on a chair and looked into the living room.
She smirked when she saw her brother sitting on the floor among the boxes, devouring his food.
- Of course you are! It's not sleep that makes you so happy. What kind of feast is this? Is Sato paying for you again? - Her voice was a mixture of mockery and familiar approval.
Rick looked up and almost choked on her words, but quickly pulled himself together.
- What if he did? He's not stingy, you know. - He waved his hand toward the boxes. - Come on, join us before it gets cold.
Mika sat down beside him, looking at the assortment with curiosity. Her gaze stopped at the delicately packaged dishes.
- Huh, did he decide to please "poor Scarlet" this time? - she laughed openly as she opened a box of rolls. - Bro, he really believes that you're her, doesn't he? I mean, I realize you have talent, but sometimes I think he just enjoys the game itself.
Rick shrugged, swiping an empty Coke can off the table.
- He likes to think he's an all-powerful benefactor. I'm just maintaining the illusion. And, honestly, you're okay with that 'illusion' yourself, right? - He pointed to her hand, which was already reaching for the second box.
Mika didn't deny it. Her face spread into a satisfied smile, and she immediately started eating.
- Well, what can I say? His flavor is almost an art form. But you know, brother, sometimes I think he's not so much interested in Scarlet as in the process. It's like he's not playing with you, but with himself, testing how far he can go.
Rick nodded, considering her words. Perhaps she was right, but it seemed to him that there was more to Sato's actions. More than just a game. It was like an elaborate dance in which both knew their roles, but neither knew the ending.
- Anyway," Mika added, leaning on the table, "I know for a fact that as long as he orders us food like this, I don't care about his motives. The important thing is that the rolls are fresh.
Rick grinned, savoring the rare moment of warm comfort. The whole world seemed to have narrowed down to those boxes of food, their conversations, and the light laughter that filled the apartment. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the game wasn't over. And if Sato was a master strategist, then Rick was going to be a worthy opponent.