Chapter Text
The freezing February wind blew quietly outside, rattling the glass windows of whole Crossroads. Inside his store, Traffic was perfectly content doing absolutely nothing. He leaned heavily against the counter, lazily flipping through the pages of the most boring book he could have picked out of all, just waiting for the agonizingly slow shift to finally end.
Then, the front door burst open.
Before Traffic could even look up, a colorful, hyperactive blur rocketed through the whole entrance. There was a sudden screech of boots on the floor, a desperate scramble, and...
BAM!!!
They collided hard. The impact sent Traffic stumbling backward against the wooden shelves, his book fluttering into the trash.
"Aughh!" Rainbeau gasped, scrambling wildly to find his footing as his heavy mailbag nearly slipped off his shoulder. His eyes went wide with pure panic. "Oh no, oh no, oh no! I am sooooo sorry, Traffic! I am in such a massive hurry and I need to deliver this shit as fast as possible. Shoot, I’m such a terrible mailman..."
Traffic rubbed his sore shoulder, letting out a heavy, tired sigh. Despite the chaos, his voice stayed completely level. "Woah, woah. Calm the fuck down, I’m fine... Is everything okay?"
"OKAY? NOTHING'S OKAY!" Rainbeau practically vibrated in place, his hands waving frantically in the air. "I could’ve seriously killed you accidentally a moment ago!"
"Just breathe, Rainbeau, okay?" Traffic stepped closer, holding his hands up to get the frantic mailman to stop pacing. After that, he puts his hand on Rainbeau's forehead and is a little bit surprised. "Gosh, your skin is so cold, like if you slept the night in a fridge." Traffic then puts his hand on Rainbeau's right shoulder. "You look like you're about to pass out. You should take a break."
Rainbeau stared at Traffic like he had just spoken a completely foreign language. "A break? Never, ever! Thank you very much, but I—"
Traffic reached out, his hand lightly catching Rainbeau’s arm to steady him. He winced. Even through the soft fabric of the mail uniform, the guy was shivering violently. "Your body is freezing... please. Just sit down and rest shortly."
Rainbeau blinked, the manic energy draining out of him for just a second as he looked down at where Traffic was holding his arm. A small, exhausted and soft smile cracked through his panic. "Thank you, Traffic. You're... you're really kind."
"No problem speedy, just rest now." Traffic smiled back at him and walked back into the small break area and returned a few minutes later, carefully handing a steaming mug of hot chocolate to the shivering mailman. As Traffic set his own mug down, something on the floor caught his eye—a small, colorful, worn book that must have tumbled out of the mailbag during the crash.
"Ehmm... Rainbeau, is that yours?" Traffic asked calmly, leaning down to pick it up.
"Uhh, yeah," Rainbeau said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "It seems like it slipped out."
As Traffic lifted it, the book accidentally fell open in his hands. He froze. His eyes widened as he looked down at the pages. They were filled with incredibly detailed, beautiful sketches of clouds. Some were wispy and light; others were massive and stormy.
"Woah," Traffic breathed, his eyes glued to the paper. "These are—"
"Bad... I know," Rainbeau interrupted quickly, his cheeks flushing red as he reached out to hide the book from Traffic. "I am—"
"You're a talent," Traffic cut him off gently, looking up to meet his eyes. "Seriously. They look fucking amazing. So realistic, detailied, clean, just beautiful"
Rainbeau’s jaw dropped slightly. "Wait... you really think so?! You think that I... am a talent?!"
"Yeah," Traffic murmured, handing the sketchbook back with a rare, genuine smile. "You can draw better then me and I try as much as I can, well..., I love clouds. They can literally shape into anything."
Rainbeau’s face instantly lit up. His usual hyperactive energy rushed back, but this time it was pure, unbridled excitement. "Me too! It's so cool how they form and vanish, and like you said... I sometimes fly up with my scarf just to feel them. They are really soft, like actual cotton candy!"
Traffic asked curiously, "And how do you they taste, probably not like cotton candy, right?" Rainbeau replied humorously, "Unfortunately, they taste like nothing, I've tried it alot of times but there was neevr a difference, obviously."
Traffic listened, but as Rainbeau talked about soaring through the sky, a heavy weight seemed to settle over his chest. He let out a long, sad breath, staring down into his warm mug. "I wish I could fly too, like you... seeing everything from up there. It must be awesome."
Rainbeau paused, his excitement was fading as he noticed how suddenly sad Traffic looked. The exhaustion in the other man's shoulders wasn't just from a long shift.
"I wish my scarf would work for you..." Rainbeau said softly, looking down at his magical gear. "But it only works for me. It's my gear, so... Btw, what's your gear?"
Traffic immediately stiffened. He let out a bitter groan, leaning back against the counter as if he suddenly hated the entire conversation. "My gear... uh, don't even start there, it was stolen a long time ago. It was an stop sign in the form of an axe."
Rainbeau looked confused but little excited. "Well, that's a really unusual but creative gear but, you can always get it back, y'know? Just spawn and despawn it..."
"I know," Traffic muttered, his voice dropping to a quiet, frustrated yet annoyed whisper. "But it didn't work. For some reason, it just... wouldn't come back. Like if there was a magical barrier or lock, that's blocking it..."
The silence in the store grew heavy. Rainbeau felt a sharp pang of sympathy in his chest, realizing he had stumbled straight into a really painful memory. "Oh... uhh. I'm sorry, Traffic. For bringing that topic up"
"It's fine, don't worry" Traffic said, waving a hand to dismiss the awkward silence. He took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, letting the warmth settle the bitter feeling. "Old news anyway."
Rainbeau watched him quietly for a second, desperately wanting to change the subject to something happier. He took a big gulp of his own drink, nearly burning his tongue, and smiled. "Well, gear or no gear, you still get to see a lot of cool places working a shop right in the middle of Crossroads, right?"
Traffic chuckled, a low, relaxed sound. "Yeah, I guess. But honestly? The store is just my day job. What I really love is just... going places. Travelling. Hitchhiking from region to region when I get the chance, just seeing where the roads take me. Meeting new people and maybe making even new friends and just enjoying the freedom, the nature and the places itself, every place is beautiful in it's own way, well, mostly."
Rainbeau’s eyes practically turned into shining dinner plates. He slammed his mug down on the counter—carefully enough not to break it, but with pure excitement. "No way! You love travelling too?!"
"Uhh, Yeah," Traffic blinked, a bit surprised by the sudden explosion of energy. "I do. Why?"
"That’s literally my favorite thing in the entire world!" Rainbeau beamed, leaning over the counter. "That’s why I became a mailman! Sure, the packages can be a pain in the ass, but I get to run through every single corner of the map. I get to see the big flashy neon lights in Inkopolis, the old traditional streets in Lost Silver, the high-tech stuff in Blackrock... I just love being on the move!"
Traffic stared at him, a genuine relaxed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For the first time all day, he completely forgot about the horrible cold and freezing February weather outside. He "Huh. So we’re both road trip guys. Just... different speeds."
"Exactly!" Rainbeau laughed, his entire face lighting up. "You take your time, and I blast through at a hundred miles an hour. But we’re both seeing the same sky."
And then three hours flew by like seconds. The freezing February noon melted into the late afternoon as the two of them talked, argued over the best travel routes and best places you should visit once, and laughed until their stomachs hurt. For three straight hours, Traffic forgot about his stolen gear, and Rainbeau forgot about his stressful deliveries. They found out how much they actually have in common. They seem to match so perfectly.
Suddenly, Rainbeau glanced at the clock on the wall for one second and gasped in complete shock, his face draining of color. "And then—oh shit! It’s already five o’clock?!"
He scrambled to grab his mailbag, throwing it over his shoulder in a total panic rush. "I'm so sorry, Traffic, but I seriously need to go! Thank you so much for this amazing afternoon!"
Traffic chuckled softly, leaning against the counter. "Thank you too and no problem. I hope I didn't ruin your schedule too much..."
"Ruined?!" Rainbeau stopped at the door, looking back at him with wide, sincere eyes. "Are you kidding? That was the best afternoon I've had in a while... honestly, maybe ever."
A warm, rare feeling bloomed in Traffic's chest. "I’m glad you had fun. We’re friends now, right?"
"Friends?!" Rainbeau beamed, a massive smile lighting up his face. "No way, very good friends!"
Traffic let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a relieved laugh escaping his lips as he raised a hand to wave. "See you soon. You know where to find me."
"I know! Thank you so much! Byeeee!" He shouted at Traffic and then...
Woosh!
The door burst open and slammed shut. In an instant, Rainbeau was gone, sprinting out into the cold evening. And just like that, the warm atmosphere vanished with him. The lively, energetic, and surprisingly cozy warmth that had filled the shop for the last three hours evaporated, leaving only the quiet chill of a February evening.
Traffic stared at the closed door, the silence suddenly feeling incredibly heavy.
"I never thought he would be so nice..." Traffic muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty store. "And chill, underneath all that running around. We have so much in common." He repeats himself. "We have so much in common but also so different.. at the same time..." He looked down at the empty hot chocolate mugs on the counter. "I kinda miss him..."
High up in the freezing sky, a colorful scarf cut through the gray winter clouds. Rainbeau flew at top speed, his mailbag bouncing against his hip, but his mind was completely stuck back on the ground.
"I miss him already..." Rainbeau mumbled to himself, pulling his scarf a little tighter against the wind to hide his blushing face. "We couldn't even finish talking. He's just... really funny. And caring. No way someone like him and me have so much in common, what a surprise... I'm so glad we're friends now."
Rainbeau while still being in his thoughts just like Traffic blush a little at that feeling of thinking of him. it seems like they become much more likely then just friends... right?