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“Ya know, we should make a name for ourselves,” Kuko casually suggested, leaning against the concrete wall and chugging down his cola.
“Is it really that important?” Ichiro sighed, crouching down to take his own can of cola out from the vending machine, thinking for a second about the idea. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by Kuko slinging an arm around his shoulder. The action had startled him the first time, but he had grown used to it. In fact, he had grown to like it - he couldn’t place as to why, though.
“Stuuuuuupid! Of course it is!” he loudly laughed into Ichiro’s ear, as he always did, “It’s proof that it existed.” Proof that they existed. Proof that it was delinquent orphan Ichiro Yamada and run-away monk Kuko Harai. Proof that it was them against the world, no matter if the world would ignore them, no matter if the world would forget about them. At the very least, they would have existed, and neither of them could ever forget that.
“…Well in that case, go ahead.”
“But what would be a good team name…? Well, since Ichiro’s such a rebel, why don’t we go with ‘Naughty Monks’?” Kuko smirked at Ichiro, who held an exasperated expression.
“That has nothing to do with me at all??”
“You don’t think so? Then, how about-“
-
“Naughty Busters! Heya!” Sasara called out to the former duo as he got closer to what was the “reformed” Mad Comic Dialogue’s old meetup spot. Well, their meetup spot for when they weren’t allowed to crash at one of Samatoki’s places for whatever bullshit reason he came up with. Speaking of, the same Samatoki followed closely behind him.
“‘Sup Mad Comic Dialogue!” Kuko grinned. The name rolled off his tongue a bit too easily for its abandoned state, but he supposed Mad Comic Dialogue had been the four of them after all. Past names and pairings reminded him of their first encounter, back when Ichiro was still working for that bastard Mozuku. Back when Ichiro and him were still Naughty Busters. That had been years ago, though, and now… now they aren’t even in the same division. Naughty Busters was left in the past, along with the bond between the two of them. That didn’t matter anymore now, though; Mad Comic Dialogue featuring the “newest” addition of the Naughty Busters were hanging out in Ikebukuro, three years later.
“What’re you lookin’ at, Ichiro.” Samatoki took one final drag of his cigarette before dropping and stomping it out.
The eldest Yamada broke eye contact. “…Nothing.”
“You fuckin-“
“Now now, Samatoki,” Sasara laughed and put a hand on his former teammate's shoulder, “leave the brat alone for juuust a sec now!”
“The fuck you mean brat? He’s a 20-year-old man and he should fucking fight me like one!” Samatoki’s hand had gotten dangerously close to his mic.
“Oh, I’ll fight you alright!” Ichiro yelled back his hand nearing his own mic as well.
“Seriously, did you guys even wanna meet up or ya tryna kill each other? Samatoki’s right though,” Sasara looked Ichiro and Kuko up and down as Samatoki scoffed, “you two really aren’t some bratty teenagers we picked up anymore…”
“Ya make us sound like some mutts.”
“And if anything Samatoki was more like a dog we had to keep on a leash.”
“A real angry one too!”
“That’s ‘cause you guys were like pups tagging along… Well, Ichiro here’s still a bitch.” Samatoki glared at Ichiro and took a step closer to him, “It's Samatoki-san, by the way, shithead.”
“None of us are seriously gonna call you that man.” Kuko deadpanned, “Give it a rest, why don’t ya?”
“Hah? You two really think you’re all that after becoming division leaders, dont y-“
“Woah, woah, woah! Before you guys go off on each other, how ‘bout we go off to get some grub?”
“...How the actual hell are you still this unfunny after three years.”
-
As the day came to a close, Sasara and Samatoki had returned to their own division. Or maybe they had stuck together in one of them. It didn’t matter to Ichiro and Kuko, who were still together, buying cola from a back-alleyway vending machine. There was a silence between them, but it was welcomed. Everything about now felt too nostalgic to the both of them, but Kuko didn’t want to point that out. Thinking about the past compromised present thought, and Kuko decided it would be better to take whatever their relationship was now than think of what could’ve been. It was difficult not to dwell, however, when their current scenery felt so familiar.
The rumbling of a vending machine.
The flickering street lamp.
The view of the starry night sky that the two of them had never seemed to get over.
Their shared fiery red passion and resolve, the same shade wrapped around their wrist and arm. The matching set was a relic of that time. It all felt just as it did when they were 17, bold and ready to face just about anything the world threw at them.
(Well, not quite anything. Certainly not quite a true Hypnosis Mic.)
“Hey Kuko,” Ichiro’s voice was awfully quiet. It was similar to when he would talk about his brothers, back when they hated him. “What did Naughty Busters mean to you?…Jus’ wondering…” It was a strange question, really. Three years ago, Kuko wouldn’t be able to imagine Ichiro asking something like that out of the blue. He had been too closed off, not wanting to share anything more than the surface level details of his issues. That didn’t matter to Kuko, though. He was always able to get Ichiro’s troubles out of him. He could always tell what Ichiro was thinking and feeling without the boy fully expressing himself. Maybe that’s why he knew what Ichiro was really trying to ask.
What did they mean to Kuko?
To Ichiro, his brothers were everything, and Naughty Busters was- Kuko was a very close second. He wouldn’t admit that though, as much as he wanted to. Maybe it was out of some irrational fear of Kuko leaving him again, even though Kuko hadn’t even wanted to leave him the first time. It was like reopening an old wound, except the one who caused it was there now, clumsily stitching it back together.
To Kuko, saying Ichiro was his best friend was an understatement. They were more than that, more than just friends, more than just partners. After all, he never really hated Ichiro, even when he was supposed to. Even now, he still can’t think of a single thing he dislikes about him, besides his tendency to hesitate. Something like that was just too hard to say now, no matter how straightforward he usually is. No matter what he said could ever convey to Ichiro what he felt now or during their time as Naughty Busters, but how could he just tell him that?
“Nevermind actually-”
“Nah, nah, it’s just,” Kuko took a glance at Ichiro, who had decided it was better to face the ground than him, before looking back up at the sky. “Like, damn Ichiro, out of nowhere?” Another glance and this time, a pair of red and green met his pair of gold, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks tinted pink. He blinked and the mismatched pair refocused on everything but his.
“Shut up, dude,” Ichiro mumbled after a couple seconds, still looking just as flustered.
Kuko couldn’t help but break out cackling. “Stop laughing, man! ‘m tryna be serious, but now you’re acting like Sasara-san; fuckin’ laughing over nothing!”
Despite Ichiro’s words, Kuko continued laughing for a bit, his stomach hurting in the process. “Watch your language M.C. Big Bro! You can’t be saying words like that in front of your brothers!”
“You’re a thousand times worse you know!” he shot back, lightly punching Kuko in the arm.
“Sure I am,” A sarcastic tone and wide smirk took over Kuko’s mouth, “but I’m not the one with the impressionable, younger brothers, prasin’ my every step, am I?”
“You’re a monk, dumbass.”
“Fuck yeah I am! ‘bout time you actually remembered.” He drank more of his cola before continuing “How are your brothers anyways? They really held up their own in the DRB from what I saw.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t even planning to make a team with them in the first place, but they’re much stronger than you’d expect. They’ve just- they've both been through and grown so much, I’m so proud of them.”
“You say that like ya haven’t always been.”
“Haha yeah,” A soft smile graced his lips, and for a few seconds, Kuko wished they’d meet his own.
Another wave of silence washed over them, but this time, Kuko was the one to break it. “I wouldn’t say everything - ‘cause that’s suppose to be Buddha or whatever - but somethin’ close enough to that.”
“Huh?”
“The answer to your question, dumbass. ‘Cause we were best friends, ya know?” He held back a grin while faking contemplation. “Well, maybe not… since Ichiro-kun had insisted we were just friends!”
“That’s too far back, and it wasn’t insistence!!” Ichiro defended himself, his glare contrasted Kuko’s shit-eating grin. To be honest, there wasn’t a need for him to act mad because he could never really be mad at Kuko - they both knew that. He still did anyway. “Besides, you know it only took a bit of time after that day at the recreation center for you to be my best friend. You were my partner man!” The use of past tense left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
“Partners…” Kuko paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “But didn’t it feel like we were more than that?”
“Kuko, what are- are you saying that..?”
We were lovers.
The three word phrase that felt straight out of those shoujo mangas the eldest Yamada would always read was at the tip of his tongue, but Kuko couldn't bring himself to say it. There was a chance Ichiro had thought the same as him, but Kuko wasn’t willing to take it. The only thing he hated about Ichiro was his hesitance, so how come he was the one hesitating?
For the first time in the past few minutes, Kuko had fully turned to really look at Ichiro. He had changed so much since then - longer hair, a smile more often than a scowl, the way he presented himself - but it wasn’t as if Kuko hadn’t changed either. They had both changed, somehow becoming adults and leaving their 17-year-old selves in the past.
Yet still, locking eyes with Ichiro face to face, Kuko could feel his heart thump. Mere seconds felt like forever with the both of them staring at one another. How would he respond? To confront their past or settle with the present? Who could say what was right? Even months after making up, their past was a tough conversation they hadn’t fully had. Kuko blamed his cowardly self for that - his dad would surely scold him if he knew his situation.
“I’m just sayin’ whatever,” he finally replied, one that was mostly unlike him - brushing away the issue. Ichiro didn’t question it. Kuko finished the last of his cola before getting up and stretching. “C’mon Ichiro, we both can’t just sit in alleyways and burn time anymore.” He outstretched his hand to the boy in front of him, just like when they had just become friends.
“That's rich coming from you,” Ichiro grabbed it and pulled himself up.
“Everything that comes from my mouth is pure gold man, that’s how wise I am. You should be grateful to hear me speak!”
“Yeah, yeah, hit me with your sermons again for all I care.”
Their pointless arguments, their back and forth insults, and the familiar setting. It sent them both three years back, but they were willing to move from it, even if they couldn’t have a full conversation about the past just yet. As long as they could make up for the time they missed, it would be enough for now. They got time to spend back, and three years later, they were starting to have each other back again.