away from it as soon as he's done scooping up his ill-gotten loot. How is that people like Hiro always seem to be loitering in arcades? Strung out, collar up, shoulders forward, head down. He's gnawing on a thumbnail, feet fixed on the ground a foot (maybe two - well inside her personal bubble) from Daisy, lackluster eyes fixed on the lurid luminescence of a flickering street-fighting game.