I Know The End- 1996

Airplane

March 30th, 2003

The buzzing from the neon open sign cuts just as you pull the chord, ending the day after a long ten hours in the shop. In the past three years, Shinichiro had grown a loyal customer base, keeping frequent traffic through the door and earning a decent living at 23 years old. After leaving the position at Ichiban Motors in Shinjuku, you started full-time at S.S. Motors, working six days a week in the company of your boyfriend as the only other mechanic. As you reach up to turn off the front lights, arms fall around your waist and you're pulled back into a hug, Shinichiro humming gently as he holds you in his embrace. His voice low and smooth, "time dragged today, huh..?"

"Ah, wait," you laugh, reaching your hands up to rest on his, "I'm dirty right now."

"We're both dirty," Loosening his grip a bit, his hands turn you by your hips before soft kisses are placed in quick succession— cheeks, nose, forehead, lips. He counts off the times he wanted to kiss you today, but couldn't— making up for lost affections as diligently as possible. Goosebumps rise on his skin when your hands come up to the back of his head, pulling him in closer and kissing him with passion. His long fingers slide under the hem of your t-shirt just as motorcycle engines come into earshot, gaining volume quickly and stealing this moment away from the both of you, Shinichiro sighs and kisses you once more before promising, "This isn't over, okay?"

"Okay," You sigh, feeling disappointed at the absence of body heat where Shinichiro was just pressed against you, before hopping up onto the counter and staring out the window, "you said, Tokyo kanji?"

"Tokyo Manji— they're calling it Toman." Shinichiro laughs, tossing the last of his tools into a metal case and slamming it shut, "you know, Mikey asked my permission to fight the black dragons."

"Since Izana left, I guess someone new is in charge, huh," You huff, crossing your arms and looking back to Shinichiro as he comes up behind the counter, "so what did you say?"

"Of course, I told them yeah," He smiles, reaching his hands out and grabbing one of yours, his thumbs brushing gently over the soft skin of your palms, "Don't worry about my legacy— you're all I want— besides, there's no gang to keep the name anymore."

"You're saying those kids actually..." your voice trails off at his nod, in awe to hear that six preteens had managed to defeat the ninth generation of black dragons. "I'm impressed. They're really proving themselves so early on and they've all got bikes at such a young age..."

"I'm really thankful to you," Shinichiro steps over, laying his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your shirt, "seriously, if you hadn't bought me that bike back then—"

Pulling your hands up, you grab both sides of his face and squish his cheeks in, kissing him once before smiling, "be thankful that Mikey hasn't totaled it in the last few months since you gave it to him."

"Saw some new dints but you know," He grabs your hands, wrapping his fingers around your loose fists, desperate to keep any form of contact with you in this moment, "material items don't matter— at least not until he sees what's under that cover."

The door creaks slightly when opened, Mikey entering with Draken and Baji behind him, announcing their arrival, "we're here."

"We're closed for the night," Shinichiro laughs, waving the boys over, "you guys went to the beach?"

"Draken did— we didn't," Mikey sighs, pointing over to baji, "some losers picked a fight with Baji after the street hawk ran out of gas."

"Street hawk..." you mumble, watching Shinichiro fight a smile as he listens to the story, wondering why Baji would be the one pushing the dead bike, "it worked out alright?"