Yumeko Jabami's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Yumeko Jabami had eight hundred yen in her pocket and a heartbeat that would not slow down. She stood on the sidewalk in Anime City and stared up at the casino everyone whispered about. Neon columns climbed its face. A pink-and-gold sign hummed above the doors. Inside, somewhere upstairs, a champion held a table no student at her new academy had ever cracked. She had transferred to Hyakkaou Private Academy for the gambling den, and the den had been too small within a week. She wanted the champion. She wanted a real game against someone who would not cheat. The doorman looked at her uniform and waved her in without a smile. The floor inside was patterned red and gold, polished so hard her shoes squeaked. A card table sat to her left, green felt worn soft at the rail. Two men in suits laughed over stacks of chips taller than her fist. She counted the smallest stack. Fifty thousand, at least. She counted her own money again. It had not grown. A hostess in a slit dress stopped her at the rope. "Minimum buy-in for the tables is thirty thousand yen," she said. "Slots are through the arch." Yumeko went to the slots. Two machines stood side by side, reels frozen on cherries and sevens. She fed a hundred-yen coin into the left one and pulled the arm. Three bars. Four hundred yen clinked into the tray. She played it back. Lost. Played again. Won six hundred. Her hands did not shake. That was the problem. A machine could not be scared of her. A machine could not sweat. She had come here to feel her pulse in her teeth, and the reels only clicked. She carried her small winnings to the roulette table and watched a round. A woman put ten thousand on black and lost without blinking. The croupier raked the chips away. Yumeko set her whole tray down on 17. The wheel spun. The ball landed on 9. Her tray came back empty. She laughed once, short, and the croupier gave her a tired look. She sat down on a decorated wooden chair by the wall and thought. Small money bought small games. Small games bought nothing worth feeling. Upstairs, past a staircase roped in velvet, the serious tables ran. The champion sat at one of them. She needed a stake. She needed it tonight. She stood, walked back to the card table where the two suited men were still laughing, and pulled out her student ID. "I don't have chips," she said. "I have this. Hyakkaou tuition slot, second semester. Full boarding. Play me one hand for it." The louder man stopped laughing. He looked at the ID, then at her face, then at the empty seat across from him. He pushed a chair out with his foot. Yumeko sat down. Her heartbeat came back.