Chapter Text
“So, care to explain what’s with this postcard?”
Kaoru holds the item in question aloft before his laptop’s webcam, pinched between two fingers and complete with a skeptical look as if it were to detonate any moment now.
Kojiro has the nerve to level Kaoru with a pointed stare at the redundant question, even going as far as to look right into the lens of his webcam for added effect. “Do I really gotta explain the concept of postcards to you?”
This, of course, elicits a frown from Kaoru on the other side of the screen. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he sniffs, “I’m just surprised that you’ve wasted your time writing a postcard when we already speak to each other at least once a week.”
Kojiro shrugs one shoulder from where he’s sprawled out on his temporary bed. “Thought you might need a reminder that I can still annoy the crap outta you from across the globe.” Kojiro smirks then as he sings, “Got the most hideous postcard I could find especially for you.”
“Oh?” Kaoru hums, unimpressed, “That explains why I found it to be quite befitting of you.”
Despite the cutting words, he turns the postcard around for another inspection while Kojiro sputters in the background. He wasn’t exaggerating one bit—between the obviously sun-bleached pictures of the colosseum, the tower of Pisa and Pompeii that must have been taken in the early nineties, as well as the nearly illegible, fuzzy neon letters spelling out ‘buongiorno’, it is safe to say that this postcard is indeed atrocious.
“Please don’t tell me you were charged money for this,” Kaoru snorts despite being unable to keep his eyes off the thing. It’s like a car crash—he simply can’t look away.
“Fifty euro cents,” Kojiro responds with unwarranted pride, “Bargain for such a work of art, don’t you think?”
Kaoru cringes in earnest when he finally manages to pry his eyes off the postcard in favour of placing it on his desk. “The least you could have done after all that trouble was to write a proper, heartfelt message,” he sighs, leaning back heavily against his desk chair.
“Excuse me?” The camera is jostled around while Kojiro moves to sit up straight in his bed, making sure the webcam is right on him again when he points an accusatory finger at his friend on the other side of the screen. “My message was plenty heartfelt! I even wrote that you should come visit!”
“You also called me a nerd twice and proceeded to go on about how the yukata I wore last time we called reminded you of the kitchen towels you use in college,” Kaoru responds, deadpan.
“Wh—yeah! My favourite kitchen towel!”
“Who the hell even has a favourite kitchen towel?!”
“People whose cooking skills exceed burnt toast and overcooked spaghe—”
Their routinely shouting match is rudely interrupted by a series of robotic sounding stutters before Kojiro’s face freezes right on Kaoru’s screen, mouth wide open, one eye half closed and an unmistakable double chin.
Saved
By the time Kojiro comes back to life, they’ve both forgotten about their argument already. “Sorry ‘bout that, wifi’s still messed up ever since I dropped that weight on the cable.” Kojiro readjusts himself on his mattress, laptop balancing on his knees.
“Is that why you’ve decided to resort to manual communication?” Kaoru asks upon a yawn.
“Why are you so surprised about a damn postcard?” Kojiro complains in response, “I personally think it’s a nice little souvenir. A memory that you’ll find ten, twenty, fifty years down the line and reminisce about.”
It’s a good point, Kaoru muses while casting another glance at the glorified piece of cardboard on his desk. There’s a certain charm to written messages that even the most innovative messaging apps and most high tech video chatting programmes can’t compete with.
Still, “You sound like my senile grand uncle.”
“...the one who collects sake bottles?”
Kaoru nods.
“Didn’t think I’d reach my life’s ultimate goal this young. Guess I can retire now.”
A beat of silence falls over them. Comfortable—a feat cultivated throughout years and years of time spent together, always by each other’s side.
That is, until Kojiro got accepted into culinary school in Italy.
That text Kaoru had received back then had been a bittersweet moment, one of happiness and melancholy and fear all at once, because he hadn’t been by himself since the day Kojiro decided he was going to befriend him back in kindergarten. And this wasn’t just some vacation—this involved numerous years.
Kaoru runs his fingers along the slightly dented edge of the postcard, wondering what had really spurred Kojiro to write it to begin with. Boredom seems out of the question after all the grandiose stories Kaoru has been subjected to for well over a year now. Sentimentalism, perhaps, or just for shits and giggles. Or maybe—
“You like the postcard, don’t you?” Kojiro asks, smug beyond belief when he catches that look on Kaoru’s typically neutral face.
Yes, he does.
“No, I don’t.”
“You totally do,” Kojiro sings, leaning a bit closer to his screen all while exaggeratedly wagging his brows.
“ No, I don’t, ” Kaoru insists, his frown now teetering on the edge of a pout, “It’s an eye-sore and impossibly rude. Why would I like it?”
“Because I wrote it.”
It’s stated with such unbridled confidence, Kaoru almost hands it to the man then and there. But if there is anything they have in common, it’s an unbreakable stubbornness.
“Frankly,” Kaoru starts haughtily, “I think even a gorilla could have written a more thoughtful message than whatever nonsensical idiocy you’ve spouted on this useless piece of paper.”
“Oh yeah?” Kojiro sneers, brow twitching, “Then how about you send one yourself, huh? See how much better you are!”
Of all challenges they have indulged in over the years, this has got to be one of the more niche ones. Right there on the leaderboard between the gummy frog eating contest (Kojiro’s win), and balancing a skateboard on your head competition (Kaoru’s win).
“I would, but knowing that you’ll be receiving a postcard completely defeats the purpose of a postcard to begin with, you uncultured swine!”
Kojiro frowns. “That’s not true. I think that knowing you’ll be getting a letter or a card makes it more exciting. Pre-fun!”
“Pre-fun,” Kaoru parrots with a grimace. That’s such a Kojiro-thing to say. Personally, Kaoru prefers the element of surprise. Though, the thought of regularly receiving postcards doesn’t sound quite as unappealing as he’d initially thought.
Albeit hopefully slightly less hideous from here on.
“Besides,” Kojiro continues, leaning a little closer to the camera for added dramatics when he says, nice and slowly, “You’re so reliant on your nerdy tech gadgets, you probably won’t have the patience to exchange postcards to begin with.”
Oh. It’s on.
“That’s rich, coming from the man who blows up my phone at any given chance. I had to delete over a hundred pictures of the same plate of pasta!”
“You deleted those?” Kojiro gasps incredulously, “And I only keep spamming you because you always respond literally half a second after I send a message!”
“Don’t blame me when you’re equally as bad!”
Kaoru will readily admit that technology plays a crucial role in his life. A large portion of his day is spent behind his laptop, be it for his studies or for working on his personal projects and interests. That being said, accusing him of not being able to communicate without their daily texting and weekly video chats? Preposterous. Absurd. Unspeakable.
“Then,” Kaoru begins, peering over the edge of his spectacles, “you simply leave me no choice. From now on, we shall only communicate through mail.”
Kojiro nods, sticks out his hand to shake as they often would when challenging one another. “The first one to text, email, call, or reach out any other way online, loses. ”
“That sounds reasonable,” Kaoru agrees, “Furthermore, we must put visible effort into our postcards or letters, and respond directly to the previously received message.”
“Deal.”
And with a final virtual handshake, both men seal their fates.