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bellygunnr · 1 year ago

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Snow Tires, Never Worn

Secret Santa for @sierra-touge-bitch !!!! This was a blast to write.

Also my entry for the 2023 @initialdsecretsanta

Snow falls steadily outside. Three cars, all alike in dignity, gradually join the white landscape as they are left to fend for themselves in the elements. An unceasing wind forces the snow to collect in whorls and drifts around the parking lot, and despite the short amount of time it has been falling, the ground is already difficult to discern. Light and shadow play with each other– glowing warm and yellow where there are lamp posts, flickering rapidly in the same breadth, unable to keep up with the weather.

And inside one of the apartments lining up the parking lot, a television plays loudly. It fills the tiny space with rote, serious droning, a bassline to ambient chatter and clatter of pans.

“Road’s blocked!” Sayuki shouts.

She’s sprawled out, half-draped over the back of the couch while her feet rest on the coffee table. Her head is thrown back to project her voice, which carries easily anyway.

“What do you mean, road’s blocked?” Shingo shouts back, slightly slurred.

“Your road! Back home!”

“Would you two stop yelling? The apartment’s not that big.” That’s Nakazato from the kitchen.a

Sayuki lifts her legs and twists off of the couch in one smooth motion. With a long, deliberate stride, she slides into the kitchen, or at least hovers at the edge of it. Her hands wrap around the painted wood of the doorway. The newfound light reveals a faint flush to her cheeks. A beer bottle on the countertop hints to why.

“I’m saying,” Sayuki says, far quieter, “that your guys’ road. The one you and Shingo need to get out of here. Is blocked. The– the snow.”

“Ah,” Takeshi says. “Shit.”

He glances over to Mako, slightly nervous. Sayuki looks at her too, and in a moment, three pairs of eyes are on her. While Sayuki broke the news– Mako’s in charge of the little abode.

Mako has her tongue stuck out as she tends to a mess of ingredients. She lifts her head, blinking in confusion at the sudden prolonged silence.

“Uhh– it’s a pull-out couch? Just stay here,” Mako says. “Like hell you were gonna drive home drunk…”

“I haven’t been drinking,” Nakazato protests.

“But you brought the beer,” Shingo says, laying a hand on Nakazato’s shoulder. “Thanks for that.”

He shrugs Shingo’s off, because he knows it’s a ploy to steal what little prepared food has been set out. Still, Shingo manages to snake an arm around and grab a tempura from the plate, even as it burns his fingers.

“Are you happy?” Nakazato says, watching him huff around the still-hot shrimp. “Do you feel proud of yourself? Sayuki!”

He rounds on Sayuki next, brandishing a pair of battered chopsticks in her general direction.

“You guys are taking forever!” Sayuki exclaims, half-way from the plate. “Come on…”

She turns her big, pleading eyes to Mako. Mako sticks her tongue out at her, unrelenting.

“Why don’t you and Shingo go find the spare blankets?”

Sayuki sputters. She worms her way around Nakazato to drape herself over Mako’s shoulder, one arm squeezing tight around her middle. With how small the kitchen is, she’s smashed up against the fridge, which rumbles balefully at the disturbance.

Mako bows her head in defeat. With slightly trembling fingers, she lifts a hunk of carrot for Sayuki to grab with her teeth.

“Why’d you eat it like that,” Mako says, brows drawn down.

“You’re the best! We’ll be right back!”

She grabs Shingo’s arm on the way out of the kitchen, laughing somewhat maniacally. The free-flowing alcohol makes them both clumsy, and they trip over a loose shoe in the middle of the floor almost instantly.

—-

The blizzard makes the little apartment colder as the night draws on. The television, long since turned down, lays a flickering haze over the room. Sayuki watches the shadows dance in time to the characters on the screen. An older movie is playing, some kind of drama. She glances around the darkened room next, counting the heads of her friends counter-clockwise. Mako is awake, slumped against the couch. Nakazato is asleep with his head cradled in Shingo’s hands. The latter is trembling violently.

“Come up here,” Sayuki hisses. “I have the blankets.”

Mako and Shingo look at her at the same time, confused. Shingo gestures at Nakazato frantically.

“Drag him here too. We need to make the bed, anyway!”

Shingo groans and shoves up at Nakazato. He barely avoids the arm he gets in return and slaps him in the side.

“Come on, we have to get up,” Shingo grunts.

“But it’s cold…”

Mako giggles uselessly as she tries to stand up in one fluid motion, but she stumbles, bracing herself on the edge of the coffee table for a moment. She and Sayuki share a look and then they’re both laughing, not sure at what, but definitely at the pair of Night Kids on the floor. It’s only when the light turns on that they stop, bewildered at the change in their environment.

Sayuki rolls onto her side and blinks blearily up at Nakazato poised by the light switch.

“Well? Come on. Or we’re stealing your guys’ bed,” Nakazato says, staring at her.

“Hell, no, you’re not.”

She drops to the floor, dragging the bedding with her.

Nakazato, probably because of his nap, is now the most alert of all of them. Shingo has slid back onto the floor, sprawled out like a fish, while Sayuki methodically dumps the blankets on top of him. Mako wiggles her eyebrows when they make eye contact.

“Let’s just sleep on the floor,” he sighs.

He comes up from behind and upends a couch cushion onto the ground. It flops, revealing a stained underside that Sayuki just shakes her head about frantically. It doesn’t stop her from dropping onto it, or Shingo from following, curling up against her side. He smiles fondly, just for a moment, at the sight.

Mako follows Nakazato to the far end of the room where the window is. Despite the snow, the lamps outside still give them enough light to see, and it’s not– pretty. Only a couple flashes of blue and red are visible beneath the white. She frowns, bears her weight down on Nakazato’s shoulder.

“You guys might be stuck for a while,” she says. “Hope you didn’t have anything sensitive going on.”

He shrugs. ”Just a couple parts coming, but when do we not?”

“Well, they won’t be coming in this…”

No, they wouldn’t be. Nakazato stares out into the snow for a moment, arms folding across his stomach.

“Now I just feel bad for our cars. Do you even have snow shovels?”

His poor, miserable R32, left to fend for herself in the elements…

Mako grins wryly. “Why don’t we just go to bed? You don’t wanna know the answer.”

—

It’s still snowing by the time they’re all awake – which is closer to one in the afternoon. Someone’s turned the television back to the news. The difference between night and day is not a lot, it seems, as everything blends together. All three of them cluster by the window, making noises of vague discontent.

“How did we not hear about this…” Nakazato says, despairing.

“None of us watch the news,” Shingo says. “Who watches the news?”

“We had it on last night–”

“My dad told me to,” Sayuki says with a shrug. “Besides…”

Mako chooses that time to reappear from one of the rooms in the back. Her arms are laden with wintry gear that she dumps unceremoniously onto the ground next to the door. She has a hard, determined look in her eye, not unlike the expression she wears before a race.

“We’re gonna have to clear it now,” Sayuki finishes, gesturing to Mako. “So you boys have fun!”

Mako grabs the back of her shirt. “No! I need you to help me with the old man–”

“Wait, why are we cleaning up the snow? Shouldn’t the apartment do that-?” Nakazato pipes up, looking even more harried.

“We’ve already been here a couple years, man,” Sayuki says. “Just put on the jacket.”

–--

The next hour is nothing but the scrape and bite of plastic shovels against the concrete. A sharp wind blows intermittently, cutting into what exposed skin they have left, and their breaths huff out in long blasts. Shingo casts long, forlorn glances back at his EG6, only stopping when Mako knocks him lightly in the hip.

“Don’t stop now!” She sings, brandishing her shovel.

“This is stupid,” Shingo says blandly. “What–”

He freezes, suddenly locked onto Sayuki creeping through the snow several feet ahead of them. She’s hunched over, telling Mako to be quiet, while cradling what is clearly a snowball in her hands. Just in front of her, an unsuspecting Nakazato.

WHAM.

Nakazato shouts. It echoes oddly in the snow-covered world and is drowned out by Shingo losing it, laughter devolving into snorts.

“Sayuki! Shingo– Shingo, do something!”

Nakazato hefts up his shovel and shoves the snow he’d collected at Sayuki. She just throws another snowball at him, and then it’s on, with both of them charging back at Shingo and Mako.

Shingo, wheezing, grabs onto Mako for stability– and she dumps into the snow drift they’d made. He wails, arm outstretched to the sky.

“I thought we were friends!” Shingo cries. “How could you?!”

A second later, another snowball hits Mako, right in the chest. Nakazato hovers manically about a foot away with the stuff spilling out of the top of his jacket.

Shingo manages to vault up and grab Nakazato by the sleeve, throwing them both to the ground, and the cold means nothing when you’re trying to kill each other–

In the end, they only stop when Mako’s elderly neighbor scolds them for horsing around. But he does invite them into his home, offers them tea, and lets them (or forces them to) use the shower after spectacularly getting covered in the snow outside.

#initial d #sierra-touge-bitch #night kids #impact blue #shingo shoji #nakazato takeshi #mako sato #sayuki initial d

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