IshiMondo Collection

‣ major malfunction [part one]

NOTE: i accidentally came up with chobits crossovers for all my main ships...
this story, though, can be enjoyed without any previous exposure to chobits. all
you have to know is that it's a CLAMP series that takes place in a world where
humanoid computers called persocoms exist. i've also injected a bit of my own
lore and ideas for how they'd function, be classified, and fit into society. enjoy!

also this fic includes an ndrv3 character, but i haven't actually
finished that game yet even now, so no spoilers please!! at all!!

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Mondo Oowada didn't particularly like his job. Or his apartment. Or his town. He hadn't exactly planned his current situation. Still, he couldn't complain— not out loud. Obnoxious coworkers or not, he wasn't trying to get fired. A guy's gotta eat.

When the clock finally struck eight, he heard the shuffling of plastic wheels and cardboard boxes that indicated that everyone was wrapping up for the night. They still had a half hour or so left until they actually closed. That didn't stop people from setting down their greasy tools to get everything packed away and ready for the next day. Mondo was careful not to hit his head as he crawled out from underneath the pickup truck he was working on.

"Any luck?" One of Mondo's more overbearing coworkers asked. Mondo shrugged.

"Nah. Thing's hopeless." But the boss will make me delay that announcement so we can milk as much from the customer as possible, he didn't add. Mondo's coworker knew the deal. He grimaced sympathetically, flashing his weird shark teeth for just a second. Mondo still didn't know if those were real or not.

He was hoping, as he did on most nights, to get the hell out of the garage and back home without running into the boss man. He had no such luck. As soon as he caught sight of Mondo, he grunted at him. Mondo understood that as a summons and sighed as he trudged up to him.

"Check the yards," he barked.

Mondo couldn't help but groan.

Their business was in one of those parts of town that people only ever ended up in by accident (you know the ones). And there was a big lot outside and a decently-sized yard with plenty of trees that surrounded a somewhat dilapidated smaller structure currently being used as a tool shed. The metal hulls of a few stripped cars sat lifelessly out on the mostly-brown grass, waiting to be salvaged for scrap metal. Beyond the garage's property, several empty lots and buildings with padlocks out front, and more trees, overgrown and with rotting limbs, stretching behind, stretching all the way to the highway.

As far as Mondo was concerned, It looked like a real dump. And so the locals took that as permission to dump their junk there.

Some of it, they kept. Mondo knew how to tell what could be repurposed and what was better off in the dumpster. He also had to keep an eye out for vehicles that were unceremoniously left behind the abandoned businesses. Especially if they didn't have license plates. If he found one of those he was expected to let his boss know, and he'd probably go on to contact the cops.

Mondo huffed as he grabbed the roll of trash bags that they kept near the back door. He had half a mind to grumble something at his boss. The guy acted like he was some corporate fat cat despite running a crummy little business in the worst part of town. He liked telling Mondo and the other mechanics how to do their jobs even though it'd probably been twenty years since he'd seen the underside of a car. And worst of all, he intentionally hired former delinquents and ex-cons and then constantly reminded them of what a huge favor he was doing them. Always going on and on about how grateful they should be that he was giving punks like them a chance. Mondo didn't have a lot of patience for it. He'd mouthed off a few too many times. So here he was, stuck doing the extra busy work that could keep him after his shift was supposed to end while his coworkers finished sweeping the place and stood around chatting in his absence.