Work Text:
Title: Gone Postal
The gang had been planning this vacation to London for weeks—Ichiban, Adachi, Saeko, and Zhao were all excited for some time away from Yokohama. Yu Nanba, on the other hand, was in a bit of a pickle. As much as he wanted to join his friends, his wallet was emptier than a convenience store at midnight. Plane tickets, hotels, food, and a decent pint? Out of his price range.
“I’ll figure something out,” Nanba had mumbled to himself as the rest of the gang chattered away about Buckingham Palace and fish and chips.
Fast forward to the morning after their arrival at a cozy but slightly cramped hotel room in Soho. Ichiban, clad in a tacky Union Jack hoodie and a pair of shorts that barely reached his knees, stretched out on the small couch, yawning.
“Man, I could get used to this. All the history! The pubs! The accents! We’re living the dream here,” he said, looking over at Adachi, who was groaning in the corner, clearly jet-lagged.
“Yeah, if by ‘living the dream,’ you mean sleeping in a shoebox and dealing with the fact that I can’t understand a goddamn word anyone’s saying,” Adachi grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I asked some guy for directions, and I swear to God, he might’ve been speaking alien.”
“Whatever, old man. You’re just grumpy ’cause your back couldn’t handle the flight,” Zhao teased from his spot by the window. He was already sipping on a pint of something local, looking far too awake for how early it was.
“Don’t start with me, Zhao,” Adachi snapped, though the grumpy old detective couldn’t hide his amusement.
Saeko, draped over one of the armchairs, scrolled through her phone. “Well, I don’t care what any of you say. I’m excited. First time in London! There’s so much to see. But… I feel kinda bad Nanba couldn’t come. We should send him some pictures.”
Ichiban looked up, his face falling a bit. “Yeah… I feel bad too. Poor guy.”
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Huh, room service already?” Ichiban said, rising to his feet. He opened the door to see a large, beat-up cardboard box sitting in the hallway, with nothing but a hastily scrawled “From: Namba” on the side in black marker.
“What the hell…?” Ichiban dragged the box inside.
“Did Nanba send us some kind of care package?” Zhao asked, coming over to inspect the box, looking it over suspiciously. “Looks like it’s been through a war.”
Adachi cocked an eyebrow. “Is there even a return address? What if it’s, I dunno, a bomb or some weird shit?”
“Relax,” Ichiban said, grinning. “Nanba’s not sending us a bomb. It’s probably snacks or something. Let’s open it.”
As soon as Ichiban grabbed the corner to rip the box open, a loud groan came from inside.
“OW, OW, OW! CAREFUL, WILL YA?”
The entire group froze. Ichiban’s eyes widened as he slowly stepped back from the box, while Saeko gasped.
“No way… Is that…?”
Before anyone could react, the top of the box burst open, and out popped a very cramped, very irritated Yu Nanba. He unfolded his lanky body with all the grace of a baby giraffe, cringing as he tried to stand in the small space of the hotel room.
“Nanba?! What the hell, man?!” Ichiban shouted, half in shock, half laughing as his friend’s messy head of hair emerged from the box like some twisted jack-in-the-box.
Nanba grinned sheepishly. “Heh. Surprise, guys.”
Adachi’s mouth hung open, and he pointed at Nanba like he was seeing a ghost. “Are you outta your mind, man? What are you doing mailing yourself halfway across the world? That’s gotta be illegal!”
“Eh, couldn’t afford a plane ticket, so this was the next best option,” Nanba shrugged, trying to crack his back after what had to be a brutal journey. “You guys didn’t think I’d miss out on London, did you?”
Zhao burst out laughing, nearly dropping his pint. “This is insane, even for you, Nanba! How’d you even survive the trip? You smell like old fish.”
“Oh, thanks for that,” Nanba muttered, rolling his eyes. “It wasn’t exactly first-class in there. But hey, desperate times.”
Saeko stepped forward, crossing her arms. “Did you seriously ship yourself in a cardboard box? How did that even work? Customs must have taken one look at you and thought you were a feral animal.”
Nanba winced. “Let’s just say I’ve perfected the art of sleeping through anything. Though I might’ve bitten through a few bubble wraps to stay sane.”
Ichiban doubled over with laughter. “You mailed yourself! In a box! Man, this is next-level dedication. But how’re you gonna get back?”
“Eh,” Nanba shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Adachi slapped a hand to his face. “Unbelievable. We’re gonna end up on some international watchlist because of you.”
Zhao snickered. “Either that or we’re gonna be the next viral video—‘Japanese man mails himself to London.’”
Nanba huffed, though a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Laugh it up. At least I’m here now. And if any of you complain about the smell, I’ll sleep in your bed tonight.”
“Yeah, not a chance in hell,” Adachi muttered, stepping away from the box.
Ichiban shook his head, still laughing. “Well, Nanba, welcome to London, I guess. But next time, man, we’re starting a GoFundMe or something. No more boxes.”
“Deal,” Nanba said, finally managing to stand upright. “But first, where’s the nearest pub? I need a drink. My legs feel like noodles, and I haven’t had a proper meal in two days.”
Saeko snorted. “And you thought you’d save money this way?”
“Eh, who needs money when you’ve got friends?” Nanba smirked.
Zhao patted Nanba on the back. “Well, you definitely took the cheap route. But come on, let’s get you outta here before housekeeping finds out they’ve been harboring a stowaway.”
As the group filed out of the room, Nanba’s stomach growled audibly, and he groaned. “Seriously, though. No more shipping containers for me.”
Ichiban grinned, throwing an arm around his friend. “Glad you made it, Nanba. Let’s make the most of this. And hey, no more boxes next time.”
Nanba gave a crooked smile. “Thanks, Ichiban. No promises.”