Work Text:
Kazuichi puts grocery bag in a bike’s basket and counts the change. Mid-day, July, their small neighborhood prefers to stay in apartments with air conditioners and fans: passing through, he sees only a few families and a couple of singles. Kazuichi Souda himself wants to plop under the fan with ice cream and lie there all his well-deserved day off.
He drives past cars standing in the sun, humming ironically and sympathizing with drivers who were not smart enough to put the car in the shade. Not everyone wanted to invest in their own future, huh. One of the cars parked on the other side draws his attention. Chevrolet Impala, first generation, obviously black. Its hood is open; the driver, leaning against the bumper, stands beside. Kazuichi drives a few steps forward to see his face, and Oh my God. It’s a goddamn Gundham Tanaka.
Gundham Tanaka with whom he either skipped PE nd school trips or fought him to death.
Gundham Tanaka who loved D&D, stupid morning ishikai and animals.
Gundham Tanaka, who got drunk at the prom and unexpectedly came to Kazuichi with revelations. Kazuichi still wants to make alcohol vapors the fault of that damn day.
And now he is standing next to such a beauty, which was unlucky to die, and trying his best to pretend that he understands what is happening. Kazuichi grins: he knows that Gundham doesn’t get a damn thing.
Kazuichi clears his throat, grinning, drives a little forward and turns around. He takes a sadistic pleasure in the expression on Tanaka’s face when he is distracted by the noise, turns his head and jumps up.
“Hello there,” Kazuichi purrs, raising eyebrows and stopping the bike. Gundham sighs heavily and frowns, pressing his hands into the bumper, “Long time no see, huh.”
Gundham’s face shows what suffering and agony he is experiencing right now.
Gundham is dressed in his manner, but absolutely not for the weather: black cloak, faux leather, in heaven’s name, white t-shirt with an inverted cross, heavy shoes, black trousers. Kazuichi is wearing a simple white tank top with no sleeves, cap and yellow coveralls tied at the waist.
“Same to you,” he says, slowly and low. Kazuichi leans against the handlebars of his bicycle, “You must have been heading somewhere. Keep it up... please don’t get distracted.”
“Me?” Kazuichi makes a surprised face and points to his chest. "Oh, no, I’m in no hurry.»
“I didn’t ask about "hurry". I asked about "heading",” he folds his arms over his chest , and Kazuichi laughs: Gundham can buy a car, get a license, turn his emo fringe into an undercut; he can even start talking less, but he’s still the same as he remembers: as boring, as ridiculous, as soft somewhere deep inside.
Kazuichi ignores his words.
“So good to see you, too. How about you? Is everything okay?” When Gundham sniffs, Kazuichi nods in the direction of the car. “Is this your beauty?”
“Yes, obviously,” He’s annoyed, and it turns Kazuichi on. He puts the bike down, walks over and gently slaps the car on the roof, looking under the open hood. “Kazuichi, you have no business here. The whole situation is under my surveillance.”
Souda smiles, leaning against the car, nodding his shoulder toward the engine – he knows that Tanaka can’t do anything to him. Everything is under his surveillance, for sure. Everything is under surveillance of Tanaka Gundham, Tanaka the Forbidden One, the Lord of Darkness or whatever he invented for himself during their school years.
“I don’t doubt it man. Just wondering what could’ve happened to the car.”
“Kazuichi,” Gundham presses the name into the air. He still sounds like he’s getting under his prom’s shirt. “If the car is in a stationary position, it does not mean that something is wrong with it.”
“And yet, you opened the hood. No, no, if you want to air out the engine for some… certainly, good reason, then go ahead,” Souda isn’t hot – well, not from the sun; he can stand like this for long, but he’s just a little worried about Gundham, who may well overheat if he continues to stare inside the car. “So, what do you see?”
Gundham shakes his head and throws a hand on the hood in irritation.
“I see something’s wrong.”
“Wow, I’m impressed,” Souda claps his hands and turns toward Gundham. Tanaka looks anywhere but at him. “Okay, what’s next? Where’s the problem?”
Gundham growls, moves away and shakes his hand sharply – Kazuichi sees the bandaged wrist. Some unpleasant memory shoots through his head.
“Somewhere around here, okay? Kazuichi, your support is undoubtedly very valuable,” he quips, and Souda rolls his eyes. «But you can’t help me acting like that.”
Kazuichi comes closer and grins in his face. His big break had come.
“My fault, my fault. But lucky you, I work in a workshop so I still can help,” he had forgotten what it was like - seeing Tanaka baffled. Kazuichi grins, walks over to the open hood and almost pushes the Gundham away from it with hip, hovering over it. He becomes serious – looking around, touching some tubes, remove the small caps and bringing them back. He bends down, almost touching the engine with his nose, frowns, gets up. “So... what actually happened?” He leans against the car and looks at Gundham. Tanaka needs half a minute to admit defeat.
“I stopped to buy water. And then, when I sat back down and tried to start the car, I realized I couldn’t. Now it refuses to move definitively. And... That’s It. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Yeah... Try starting it now that I’m here.”
Gundham heaves a sigh and gets behind the wheel, Kazuichi gets in next to him. There are three or four occult trinkets hanging on the front window – Kazuichi smiles. He’s sad, he remembers Gundham falling asleep on his chest with his stupid emo fringe. Damn prom.
The car begins to grumble – Kazuichi frowns, then looks at the steering panel and suddenly relaxes. Gundham looks up, arching an eyebrow.
“All’s clear,” He rises a finger, “Didn’t you notice? Heard some noise earlier maybe? The battery ran out,” Gundham rolls his eyes and rubs the bridge of the nose nervously. “I’ll call a tow truck, Okay?” In response – a very inarticulate growl at the steering wheel. Kazuichi grins and holds out his hand to shoulder in a black cloak. “C’mon, it is not that bad…”
“Don’t, Kazuichi. Please.”
His hand freezes in the air; Gundham moves smoothly to the window pane, without raising his head.
Kazuichi Souda is not offended; he remembers the " touch thing", and it makes him a little sadder when he remembers another one. He shrugs, laughs, and pulls out his phone to call the workshop. Everything’s all right.
“What is the waiting time for the tow truck?” Gundham grumbles, tugging at his cloak. Souda looks up and down at him at the same time.
“Well, about ten minutes, I guess,” Gundham nervously taps his nails on the steering wheel, peering ahead. Kazuichi leans back in the comfortable seat, opens the car window, sighs heavily, and turns to Tanaka. “Can I ask you a question? Not personal. Only professional interest,” gentle clap on the car as a sign of confirmation.
“Ask.”
“Look, you bought this particular car because of that seri…”
“Yes.”
“Okay, great, fine, thank you,” Kazuichi raises his hands: he feels an irritation in the air that may well become material and hit him on the top of the head. Silence again.
“So you did become a mechanic, like... you wanted to?”
“Yeah,” Kazuichi doesn’t stop looking at Gundham’s face – the lined eyes, the eyebags, the aquiline nose, the lips that he purses and relaxes. He smiles affectionately, squints and shakes his head. “And you? You went to University or... college, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Gundham speaks calmly, slowly. “I finished my courses, and about a week ago I received an offer to work in a local veterinary clinic.”
Kazuichi laughs briefly and closes his eyes. He likes to talk incessantly, but now he’s comfortable in silence. In silence of the stuffy car and the occasional wistful lowing of Gundham.
He is 101 percent sure that they are thinking the same at the moment. That if now he starts to speak, find the right words, then Gundham will grin and also begin to collect their shared memories, slowly bringing them to the prom. But they both just sit there in silence, waiting for the sound of the tow truck, and when Kazuichi opens his mouth in desperate waiting, both hear a frisky horn from behind.
Souda scurries out of the car, shakes hands with an acquaintance and switches completely into a new, stuffy and inanimate conversation, which Gundham watches surreptitiously. He sees that Kazuichi laughs, slaps the driver on the shoulder, then he follows and say hello – briefly. They load the car into a tow truck, attach Sodua’s bike and drive to the workshop. Kazuichi and Gundham no longer need to think about the same thing in the company of a third person, but it’s difficult.
Gundham comes for the car just before closing time. He pays for the work and gets behind the wheel. It takes him a moment to notice the four-fold piece of paper tucked under the glass, then he carefully pricks it with fingernail and unfolds.
"Yo, Gundumb. I gave your beauty a free checkup, just little things. Look down what you need to do and change so that nothing falls off. Free of charge, for old times' sake. But you owe me. So if you ever want to thank your generous old friend, there’s a very nice bar on 5th street and a wonderful noodle house right next to it. Here’s my phone number. Have a nice night buddy!"
Under a small list of services - a cutaway. Name of the workshop. "Kazuichi Souda, car mechanic". A phone number.
He doesn’t throw it away. Coming home, he googles the name of a "good bar", a noodle house, then searches for a something more decent. Just in case, because suddenly thoughts that he put to sleep a long time ago awaken in the head of Gundham Tanaka. And he doubts very much that he can withstand such extraordinary tastes of Kazuichi Souda which have not changed since school.
He feels it. He smiles.