Archive of Our Own

Momota didn't think his day could get any worse, really.

Driving out to the countryside on a hot summer day, he had set out to visit his grandparents for the weekend. There wasn't much he actually had planned for said visit, yet it hadn't stopped him from barely being able to contain his excitement.

That was, until his front tires popped.

After getting out of his car and standing dumbly in the middle of the barren road like an idiot, he crouched over to find the source of the disturbance.

"The fuck…"

The aforementioned tires were seemingly popped by a string of barbed wire that stretched far beyond the road. Furrowing his brow and following the wire to the source, Momota ended up right in front of a tiny farm, right beside the road.

Standing in front of the door in the blistering heat on the farm porch, he sighed before knocking on it, collecting himself. Hopefully looking for someone to aid him with his flat tires, Momota waited in anticipation, before seeing the door slowly creak open.

Once it had opened, he was greeted by a shorter person, one with a completely blank face. Upon making eye contact, the former’s dull expression quickly morphed into a delighted grin, his eyes holding a glint of mischief.

"Hel-"

"Why hello there! What brings you here?"

Taken aback by the quick interjection, Momota blinked a bit, trying to read the person in front of him. What was this guy's deal?

"I, uh-" He cleared his throat, "My tires popped because of some barbed wire that was in the middle of the road, and after following it, it led me back here." Staring back at the other guy in front of him, trying not to make things awkward as he seemed to be processing what Momota was saying.

"You...wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, right?"

The question earned a scoff. "Of course I did!"

Huh?

Blinking in confusion, Momota watched as the guy looked at his nails, seemingly bored as he continued speaking.

"Yeah, that was part of a scrapped prank I had planned. I completely forgot about it." He spoke nonchalantly. "I figured my involvement was preeetty obvious, you must be pretty dumb if you didn't realize that right away!"

"I-huh?!"

He continued on, clearly enjoying the exchange now. "Well, I shouldn't be that surprised- anyone who's dumb enough to not notice barbed wire in the middle of the road probably shouldn't be thinking so hard in the first place!"

"H-hey! I'm not dumb! I was just trying to be polite! Y’know, not jumping to conclusions right away?"

"Even if my involvement was soooo blatantly obvious?"

"Shut up! I was trying to be nice!"

"Jeez, keyword on trying." The other guy frowned, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. "I just met you and you're already telling me to shut up…you're so mean!" Punctuating the sentence with a dramatic display of crocodile tears, Momota's patience began wearing thin.

"Can you blame me? You're giving me a fuckin' headache. I don't even know your name."

The tears ceased instantly. "Oh, that's easy. I'm Ouma Kokichi!" He extended a hand as he grinned.

Processing the emotional whiplash Ouma had just inflicted onto Momota, he paused for a second before then bouncing back into a somewhat normal mood to mirror Ouma.

"Momota Kaito, better known as The Luminary Of The Stars!"

As they shook hands Ouma nearly scoffed again. "Interesting title, what're you, a stripper?"

Stammering to respond, Momota nearly lost it. "The hell?! Of course not! I'm an astronaut!"

"Ohhh, a spaceman I see." Ouma nodded, eyebrows raised.

"What, do you not believe me?"

"No, I do, I'm just surprised."

"Why's that?"

"Because astronauts are smart."

Once again the shit-eating grin made its way across Ouma's face, lighting up with delight as Momota visibly took a moment to process the jab Ouma had made.

"HEY!"

"Am I wrong?" The shorter man snickered in response.

"No, you're not- astronauts are smart, and I am an astronaut!" He sighed in exasperation, continuing before Ouma could cut him off with another quip. "Anyway- would you happen to have spare tires? Or at least something that can repair my current ones?"

Ouma raised an eyebrow. "You don't have anything like that with you?"

"Do you think I do if I'm asking you?"

"Wow, now you're telling me to think! Nice, Momota-chan! And to answer your question, no, you don't!" He said it all with a smile on his face, clearly not taking the conversation seriously in the slightest.

"At least you're honest. Wait a second, who the fuck is Momota-chan?!"

Ouma put his hands behind his head, ever amused. "Nishishishi, of course I'm honest! I toooootally hate liars, they're the worst!"

Momota rolled his eyes. "Y'know, that came off as completely disingenuous-" Ignoring his comment, Ouma yawned. "That aside, no, I don't know how to fix your tires."

"So do you-"

"But!" Ouma put up a finger, wide eyes bright and full of vitality. "I maaaay have some spare tires around here somewhere. I might."

"You're not sure?"

"Nope! The place isn't mine after all!"

Momota furrowed his brows at his response. "It isn't?"

Keeping the smile on his face, Ouma nodded. "Yep! Buuuuut I'll give you the lore about this place once you've stepped inside. After all, I don't feel like standing out in the heat much longer."

Following Ouma inside, Momota took in his surroundings inside the quaint house.

"This is...quite an interesting place you got here." As they ventured through the hallway, Momota stared at the pictures adorned on the wall, most of them outlandish and hard to look at (and mostly of clowns, Momota noted. Ouma must like them.)

"Yeah, I tried to add my own touch to the place, no way could I keep it as boring as it was before!"

Before?

As if on cue, as they reached the end of the hallway, Momota noticed a few normal pictures and portraits hung on the wall, thankfully. He noticed the picture of Ouma and a large man with long, wild hair and glasses, looking quite happy. It seemed like a nice memory. Turning to see the other photos, however, he noticed it wasn't Ouma in the other pictures, but his friend.
Almost as if…

"Hey, Ouma."

"Hm?" He glanced up at Momota.

"Who's this guy?"

Peering at who Momota was pointing to, Ouma frowned and sighed, looking down. "That's Gonta. He's the one who lived here." Ouma then looked up at Momota, his expression a far cry from the bright cheer it was in earlier. "He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"Yeah….Gonta died a while ago."

"He died?!"

Ouma nodded sadly. "Mhm, and all he left me was his farm…sometimes I think he's haunting the place still, like I can hear his voice at night."

Momota paled noticeably at the mention of haunting. "You can...hear him?"

"Sometimes. He died recently so maybe his soul is just lingering and trying to tell me something, who knows?" He said it so nonchalantly Momota could only shake at the thought of there being a ghost in their presence.

"There's no way you can a-actually hear him...no fucking way ghosts are real." The sentence sounded more like a reassurance to himself rather than a direct response to Ouma, who was still calm as ever.

"Are you scared, Momota-chan? Gonna piss your pants?"

"S-shut up! I'm not fucking scared!" He shook his head. "You've gotta be lying, there's no goddamn way ghosts are real!"

Ouma rolled his eyes and laughed once more. "Nishishishi, whatever helps you sleep at night! Who knows? Maybe Gonta's ghost will show up tonight!"

"It won't! Besides, I don't plan to stay here all that long. As soon as I get the tires, I'm leaving."

Momota crossed his arms and huffed as Ouma sadly looked towards the ground. "Aw man, does Momota-chan not wanna spend time with me and Gonta's ghost? And here I thought we had spent all this time bonding!"

"Stop with the ghost shit! I've got places to be, y'know."

Ouma raised an eyebrow. "So the spaceman does have a life?"

Momota grumbled. "Of course I do! What did you think?"

Ouma shrugged. "I wasn't sure, I figured you might've just been stalling this whole time, looking for an excuse to keep talking to me!"

"Are you sure I'm the one stalling? Weren't you going to look for the tires?"

"I waaaas, till I was distracted by a loud spaceman asking me questions about the house-" Ouma raised his eyebrows. "Are you still gonna say I'm the one stalling?"

Momota looked at the shorter man in annoyed silence, simply muttering out a "fine", leaving Ouma satisfied as the latter turned around to face a closet door, to what Momota assumed to be a storage room.

"Wait here, my darling Momo-chan."

"Darling?!-"

Before he knew it, Ouma had disappeared into the storage room,with Momota noticing the way the hoarded trinkets kept inside nearly spilled out of the room from the brief moment it was open. How Ouma would find spare tires in a room like that, he would never know.

Checking the time, Momota grimaced at the fact that he likely wouldn't be able to see his grandparents like he'd imagined. He wasn't ready to let go of his hope just yet, but as things stood, it didn't seem like he'd be getting out of here anytime soon.

The sound of a shutting door ripped Momota out of his train of thought, his lilac eyes instantly meeting Ouma's violet ones. "Soooo." Ouma drawled, glancing to the side. "I may not have actually had the tires like I thought."

"Really?" Momota deadpanned. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"But!" Ouma put his hands up, "The good news is, we can just get spare tires from the auto repair store, it's not that far from here!"

"How far are we talking here, exactly?"

"Uh….an hour, maybe two."

A beat of silence passed as Momota looked incredulously at Ouma, who just smiled at him blankly.

"TWO HOURS?!"

Ouma covered his ears. "Jeez Momota-chan, no need to be so loud. Yeah, It'd probably take that long."

Momota sighed and dragged his hand across his face, obviously frustrated by the news. "So what? How are we supposed to get there?"

"Oh, we can't go today, it's closed."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU START WITH THAT?!"

Ouma blinked. "I didn't want to lose my hearing, that's why. Could you be any louder?"

Momota sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I'm just- kinda frustrated right now."

"You don't say."

An uncomfortable silence had passed as Ouma watched Momota begin to pace around, deep in thought as he was likely trying to figure out his next steps of action.

"You know," Ouma spoke, trying to drag Momota out of his trance. "Is there a chance you could….I don’t know- reschedule this thing you had to go to for another day? You could stay here for the night, and then tomorrow morning we could go get the tires."

Silence.

Ouma shifted in his place, a bit anxiously waiting for a response.

The silence dragged on for what seemed like ages before being broken with yet another reluctant sigh from Momota.

"At this point, I doubt I have any other choice."

An internal sigh of relief passed through Ouma, a grin making its way back onto his face.

"Great, a sleepover! You can sleep in the guest room!"

"Which is….where?" Momota questioned, looking around the house.

"Riiiight, you're gonna need the full house tour! We can do that after lunch. I’m starving!"

Momota looked at Ouma. "You're awfully enthusiastic about this."

"Well of course I am! Nobody really passes through here, soooo having company is fun every now and then." As Ouma spoke, he moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"If no one really passes through here, why'd your "scrapped" prank involve barbed wire in the middle of the road? Wouldn’t you need people for that?" Momota followed suit into the kitchen, sitting down at the small table, watching Ouma.

"Firstly, it was a scrapped prank for a reason." Ouma glanced back at him. "I thought it would be funny enough to scare whoever passed through, since I figured they would stop driving their car if they saw barbed wire in the middle of the road, giving me the opportunity to prank them."

He gave Momota a pointed look before continuing. "Though because not too many people pass through here, I didn't think I'd actually get to go through with it."

"So you just left the barbed wire there?"

"Nonono, I didn't leave it there, I had juuuuuust forgotten about it!"

"That's still the same thing, Ouma."

"Well, whatever- I didn't think anyone would actually drive onto it-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get what you're saying. You should get rid of it though." Momota commented as he put his hand on his cheek, leaning on the table.

"I will! After we eat."

"Weren't you planning to give me the "house tour" afterwards?"

"Theeeeeeeen it can wait!"

Rolling his eyes, Momota looked over as Ouma set down two egg salad sandwiches onto the table, sitting opposite him. He swiftly thanked him, the two of them beginning to eat in silence.

"So, what exactly was this thing you had planned to go to?"

"Hm?" Momota made eye contact with the guy in front of him as he ate, blinking.

"Y'know, the reason as to why you were so eager to leave me- you're so mean Momota-chan, so desperate to leave your new best friend alllllll alone like that!" Ouma pouted, looking like he was going to bring back the fake tears from earlier.

Momota swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to interject before Ouma could continue with his antics. "Stop being so goddamn dramatic- If you're so desperate to know, I was just going to go visit my grandparents for the weekend, that's all. And you're not my new best friend."

Ouma put his hand on his chest. "You wound me, Momota-chan!"

The latter rolled his eyes at the statement, choosing to just keep eating.

"Anyway!" Ouma said, smiling still. "Visiting your grandparents, huh? I guess you'd have to call them and tell them you can't make it then, right?"

Momota just looked at Ouma for a second before replying. "Ah no, I don't gotta call. They didn't know I was going to visit."

Ouma raised an eyebrow. "They didn't?"

Momota scratched his cheek, glancing off to the side of the kitchen. "No, it was supposed to be a surprise visit."

"So you were just planning to show up unannounced?"

"Y-yeah! And? Have you never heard of a surprise before, Ouma?"

Ouma looked at his nails, unimpressed. "Sure I have, but do you always visit people randomly, Momota-chan?"

"Maybe I do!" Momota crossed his arms and huffed. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing really, but jeeeeeez. You just woke up and decided to show up? No planning at all?"

"Well sometimes you don't gotta plan!"

Ouma smiled. "I see, now I'm starting to understand why you drove onto the barbed wire. You don't think!"

"Why you-!"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Momota-chan, I'm just telling the truth."

"I don't wear fuckin’ panties-"

"But you don't deny that I spoke the truth?" Ouma smirked, clearly having fun with the exchange.

"Like hell you did!" Momota grumbled. "How about we stop talking about me, and we talk about you instead?"

Ouma gasped. "Like a date?! Wow Momota-chan, you're moving so fast!"

Momota rolled his eyes. "Not like that, asshole." He put his palm on his cheek and leaned onto the table. "Tell me something about yourself."

"O-kay!" Putting his finger onto his chin, Ouma appeared to be contemplating something for a brief moment. "Should I tell you about my suuuuper secret evil organization first, or-"

"Your," Momota paused. "Your WHAT?!"

"Gosh Momota-chan, didn't you hear me?" Ouma said. "I'm just the leader of a super top secret underground evil organization. That's all."

Momota blinked several times, not believing it for a second. "That's complete bullshit."

"Oh?" Ouma raised his eyebrows, darkening his expression. "What if...I were to tell you that this meeting was planned.” He smiled. “That this farm was bait, and you fell into an elaborate scheme. It was all a ruse to get saps like you to come here so we could knock you out and harvest your organs to sell.”

Unnerved by the response, Momota gulped, looking back at Ouma. "That’s...oddly specific, isn’t it?”

There was no response from Ouma, who’s eyes bore into Momota, his smile now morphing into a wide devilish smirk. The two sat in stillness. Momota squirmed in his seat, beginning to sweat just a little. “...Yeah right.”

Nothing.

Ouma leaned closer, ready to continue before Momota quickly shut him down.

"C-Cut it out with the lying!"

The tension dissolved almost instantly, Ouma's sinister expression flipping back to a much more jovial one. "Awh, you got me!" He grinned. "Yeah, I was tooooootally lying."

Momota let out a sigh of relief, relaxing in his chair.

"Or was I-"

"You were!"

"Nishishishi, who knows? Maybe you'll believe me when my secret organization captures you!"

"Jeez, you're so fucking weird man." Momota replied, getting up from his chair.

"You mean utterly charming and totally not boring?" Ouma also got up, looking at Momota.

The latter snorted in response, slightly amused. "Sure, let's go with that."

After Ouma had put their empty plates away, the two strolled out of the kitchen, getting ready for the much anticipated house tour.

Momota followed Ouma around the tiny house, listening to the shorter man while he energetically rambled. Momota occasionally fired back a comment at him whenever Ouma made a comical remark towards the former. He caught himself smiling numerous times, somewhat enjoying their silly banter.

Ouma was fun, he figured.

He thought back to what Ouma had said about not having many visitors often.

Was he lonely?

How long has he been here by himself? Momota pondered, no longer listening to what Ouma was saying all that closely, lost in a train of thought. If staying with him remedied his loneliness, Momota didn't exactly mind staying for a while. Hell, if all Ouma needed was a friend, Momota would be willing to be that for him. Or at least try to-

"Earth to Momota-chan!"

"Huh?" Momota snapped out of his trance, locking eyes with Ouma, who was waving his hands in front of him.

"Don't leave the planet just yet, spaceman. This is the most important part!"

Momota shook his head, muttering out a quick apology before shifting his attention to whatever Ouma wanted to show him.

"This is your room for the night!" Ouma began, pointing to a simple oak door. He opened the door, gesturing to the inside. It was rather simple, not much occupying the space inside. The walls were painted maroon, surrounding a plain bed in the center of said room. Beside it was a tiny nightstand, adorned with a digital clock.

"It's nice, thanks Ouma." Momota said, appreciative of the fact that Ouma wasn't going to make him sleep on the floor.

"Of course!" He beamed in response. "And you're riiiiiight down the hall from me, so if Gonta's ghost does show up at night you can tell me!"

The appreciative smile on Momota's face instantly faltered.

"Fuck off with the ghost shit! It won't happen!'

Crossing his arms behind his head, Ouma jeered. "Are you sure, Momota-chan? I heard him just the other day, begging me to feed the chickens!" He clutched his chest dramatically, closing his eyes.

"Of course, I listened to the reminder from my dear friend, as it was the least I could do. Oh, how sad…"

Ouma finished his bit and looked up at Momota, who was trembling just the tiniest bit. He was glancing almost frantically around the hallway, as if he actually did believe Ouma. Great!

Motioning to hold his hand, Ouma laughed. "Doooon't worry Momota-chan, Gonta's ghost is friendly! He won't do anything to you! Aside from maybe curse you or something like that." He added offhandedly.

"CURSE??" Momota paled. "W-why would he do that?!"

"Uh duh, because that's what ghosts do! They haunt and curse the living, keep up Momota-chan."

Momota shook his head rapidly, clearly afraid now. "Shut up! I still don't believe it. It's n-not real."

Ouma shrugged, letting go of Momota's hand. "If you say so." He snickered. "Don't come crying to me when you see him though!"

"I won't!" Momota shook his head, quickly regaining composure.

"Won't come crying to me or won't see him?" Ouma smirked.

"Both! I won't be cryin' cause I defnitely won't see him!" Momota barked in response, much to Ouma's amusement.

"A-Anyway-" He coughed. "What else is left of the house tour?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Ouma closed the door of the guest room, and led Momota down the hall, practically bouncing the entire way.

"So I've shown you a majority of the place- kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, closet and the living room. But!" Ouma paused, smiling broadly.

"But?" Momota questioned.

"You haven't seen the rest of the farm!" He opened the door. "This tour continues outside!"

Grabbing his wrist, Ouma dragged Momota outside, shutting the door behind them once they were outside.

"Normally, I kind of hate going out here unless I have too, buuuuut it's for the sake of the tour so I don't mind. Plus I have my dear Momota-chan here in case anything goes wrong to protect me! Like a meatshield!"

"Meatshield?!"

Ever enthusiastic, Ouma beamed, pulling Momota along with him to the fields first. The farm appeared to be quite small, it was clear there were about only 5 acres of land surrounding them. Ouma had explained that the farm was initially referred to as a hobby farm by Gonta, which meant there would be no money gained from Ouma's “excruciatingly hard and noble earnest work as the greatest farmer ever”. He supposedly already tried to monetize it in the short time that he had been here, but to no luck at all.

“Soooo I just take care of things, like Gonta would’ve wanted.” He looked at Momota. “In his will, he left me instructions on what to do, buuut he had a case of what I like to call “doctor’s handwriting.”” Ouma added, using air quotes.

“Doctor’s handwriting?” Momota questioned.

“Yeah! Y’know when you get a note from the doctor, telling you that you’ll probably die in like- 3 weeks but you can’t tell because you don’t understand the handwriting?”

Momota looked at Ouma with slight surprise in his eyes. “Yeah, actually.”

Ouma nodded. “So I just try to decipher what to do based on what I do understand. It’s been relatively easy so far.” He grinned, proud of himself.

“So you plan to run the farm by yourself?”

“Of course! Maybe I can find someone to take over for me down the line, buuut I did this out of the kindness of my heart for my dear, dead friend.” He grabbed at his chest dramatically.

Momota tilted his head and chuckled slightly.

“What?” Ouma narrowed his eyes. “What’s funny, spaceman?”

“Oh, nothin’ really.” He mused.

“Nothing, huh...” Ouma paused before pointing at himself, scrunching up his nose. “Do I got something on my face?”

“No, I ju-”

“Tell me, Momota-chan, do I have a third eye or something? Did the toxic waste rain from the other day finally do something to me, and now you’re prepared to run away in horror, as I probably rip you to shreds and begin my world domination?”

“What? Ouma, what the fuck are you on about?” Momota shook his head. “I was just thinking about your “hard noble work” you’ve done around the farm.” He added air quotes.

Ouma leaned in. “Excruciatingly hard work, yes. What’s so funny about that?”

Momota looked directly at him. “I can’t imagine you doing any of this work for the life of me.”

“Well you better believe it, space boy.” Ouma crossed his arms and raised his head high. “We haven’t even known each other for all that long. I’ll have you know I am full of surprises.”

“Sure, surprises.” He rolled his eyes, amused.

They continued their venture around the farm, passing by the chickens and cows, making idle conversation.

“Y’know,” Momota began. “I was raised on a farm.”

“Oh, I could tell.” Ouma jeered.

“I-” Momota turned his head to the other side, ignoring the jab. “Like I said, I grew up on my grandparent’s farm. This whole tour is reminiscent of their place. It’s almost familiar.” He smiled faintly. “Kinda nice, actually.”

Ouma simply blinked as Momota continued. “I used to run around the fields there, go on adventures of my own. Play around with the animals.” His faint smile had grown much fonder, the projector of the past practically reflecting the cherished moments he spoke of out in front of him.

They stood in silence once more, however this time the discomfort was yet to be present. Ouma put his hands together, contemplative for a second.

“Thanks for the life story.”

And the silence crashed.

Momota rubbed his neck, glancing away from Ouma. “Heh, got a little carried away there I guess. I dunno, maybe it sounds dumb to you-”

“It does.” Ouma smirked.

“Wh-You weren’t supposed to agree!” Momota clammored, embarrassment now clearer as his face flushed.

“Who says I wasn’t?” Ouma shot back sardonically, looking at his nails.

“I did! Y’know what- that doesn't matter! It's not dumb!"

Ouma spoke flatly. "Course it's not."

"Yeah! Wait- you agree?"

Ouma twirled a strand of his hair. "Maybe I do find your dumb story endearing, or maybe I think it's lame, who knows."

"You know!"

"And you think I'll tell you which it is? Jeeeeez Momo-chan, you're no fun at all."

Momota glared at Ouma, sighing. "I'll assume you were bein' nice, then. In some weird way."

"Then you'd be assuming wrong!" Ouma beamed.

"Didn't you just say you wouldn't tell?" Momota questioned. "I think I'll go with the other one since you're so "full of surprises"."

“That I am, my darling meatshield!"

Skipping ahead of him, Ouma laughed.

The two remained silent for the next few passing minutes, in which Momota took in the scenery around them. Surrounded by fields of green, the atmosphere around them had been quaint. The bright heat of the sun had now long faded, replaced with the looming grayish clouds of possible impending rain. It felt calming, almost.

“Oh!” Momota exclaimed, rupturing the encircling calm mood. He sprinted to the rustic pig pen that laid before them.

Ouma cocked an eyebrow, catching up. “What, you like them?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I do, actually! They’re cute, don't cha think?”

Looking between Momota and the pigs in front of him, Ouma sneered. “Not too sure if I agree with your definition of “cute”.”

“Ah, c’mon! Look at them! They’re just minding their own business. I’ve got a soft spot for them, like I mentioned earlier I used to play with some of the animals on the farm. The pigs were always fun to wrestle!”

Now he was intrigued.

Leaning in closer to Momota, Ouma tilted his head. “You wrestled these things?”

“Yeah!” Momota proudly exclaimed before faltering a bit. “What, is that weird?”

“Perhaps.” Ouma mused. “Weird? Sure, I doubt I’d ever hear most people go and ramble about how they wrestled dirty, ugly pigs as a child. Boring, however, it is not.”

“Not boring, hm?” Now it was Momota’s turn to show intrigue. “So you’d wanna do it?”

“Wrestle those things? Not even if you paid me.”

“What, are you scared?”

Ouma scoffed. “What’s there to be scared of?” He shooed the notion of possible fear away with his hands. “I just wouldn’t want to get dirty is all. I have standards, Momo-chan.”

Momota leaned against the pigpen itself. “Is that so?”

“Uh, duh!” He crossed his arms, a bit childishly. “I have plenty of better things to do than wrestle a grimy pig.” He held his head up and closed his eyes. “Not like you’d understand though.”

The astronaut looked at Ouma, skeptical. “Sounds like a lotta excuses, I dunno. I figured you’d be the type to go for something as fun as this-”

Ouma couldn’t help but laugh haughtily. “Okay spaceboy, I see what you’re getting at here. But your attempt to pull reverse psychology on me won't work.” He smirked. “It was cute, but-”

Click.

The sound of a lock opening interrupted any witty remark Ouma had planned, as Momota swung the pigpen door open. Taken by surprise, Ouma nearly squealed as 2 small pigs practically ran him over. The haughty attitude he had taken had dissipated, his mask of confidence slipping rapidly from his grip. It was a delight to see for Momota, who erupted into a fit of laughter. Ouma squirmed around in the grass, arms flailing as the pigs ran around him and moved on top of him.

“If you’re done laughing at my pain-” Ouma said, exasperated. He pushed the pigs off of him, standing up and dusting himself off.

Momota wiped a tear away from his face, immensely amused. “Of course-” He grinned again. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“If you mean having tiny, disgusting pig feet trample you, then yes!” He clasped his hands together and fluttered his eyelashes. “That wasn’t so bad at all, Momota-chan!” He quickly deadpanned. “Never do that again.”

He smiled contentedly. “No promises. It was unexpected, at least? Not boring, right?”

Ouma glared at him. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s full of surprises.” He grinned. “And, this may have been payback for my tires, but y’know-” Momota added under his breath.

After Momota helped put the pigs back in the pen, reassuring Ouma twice he had locked it, they walked around the rest of the farm. Ouma then quickly flipped back to his playful mood, seemingly ignoring the exchange that had just happened. The two of them walked back under the cloudy sky, wrapping up the tour shortly after that. They began to head back, not before putting away the barbed wire Ouma had initially laid out on the road, thanks to Momota’s reminder.

Leaving the barbed wire they had gathered in the toolshed, the duo made their way back inside, Ouma shutting the door behind them.

“Looks like we got lucky.” Momota commented, noting how the rain began once they stepped inside. He sighed, sitting down on the mildly worn sofa. They were still, a rare moment of peace washing over them. Momota relaxed, turning his head to face Ouma, who was idly checking his phone.

“Hm?” Ouma spoke, attention snapping back up to face Momota. “It’s already raining? Jeeeeez.” He sat down in an olive armchair opposite Momota, slumping in it.

“Figure it’ll rain for the rest of the day.”

“Better than earlier, so I’ll take it.”

“You don’t like the heat?”

“When did I say that? I love the heat! I love sweating in the humidity, stuck with sticky clothes and a broken air conditioner!”

Momota narrowed his eyes. “You’re lyin’ again.”

Ouma gasped. “You don’t say! My, you’re quite the detective, Momota-chan!”

“And you’re quite sarcastic.” Momota put his palm on his cheek. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Ouma blinked.

“Yeah, y’know-” Momota gestured to Ouma with his free hand. “Why are you the way that you are?”

“Oh! Well you see, my darling beloved best friend of all time idiot-chan-”

“Never call me that again-” Momota quickly interjected as Ouma continued.

“It aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall started when I had blown up a hospital see, an-”

“BLOWN UP!?” Momota loudly interrupted. “I- No way that’s real, Ouma. Be honest.”

Ouma pouted. “How rude of you, interrupting my story before it even got to the good part. Now if you’d let me finish-” Ouma retorted, ignoring Momota’s clamoring.

“I had blown up a bank-”

“You changed the building!”

“No I didn’t! Gosh Idiot-chan, keep up with my storytelling.”

“Not an idiot!”

“Annnnnyway! I had blown up a grocery store, as an awesome april fools day prank, rightfully so.” Ouma began, holding up a finger to prevent Momota from interrupting. “And then all of a sudden, I’m being persecuted! Apparently, the grocery store was the prime minister’s favorite grocery store in all of Japan, and since I blew it up, he put a massive bounty on my head!” Ouma shook his head, eyes closed and hands clasped together, as if he were about to pray.

“It was insane, tons of people came after me!” He opened his eyes and made a whispering gesture towards Momota, who seemed completely lost. “Between you and me, some of them seemed a bit obsessed with me. It was like I had my own fanclub of personal murderers!” He beamed before gesturing again. “Of course, they all ended up failing, and afterwards I took over the position of prime minister!”

Ouma finished his story, smiling innocently at Momota.

“Ouma.”

“Yes?”

“What the fuck-”

Momota furrowed his eyebrows in pure confusion. “That- That didn’t even answer my question at all.”

Ouma smiled. “Of course it did! The part where I-”

He was cut off. “How do you come up with this stuff?”

“I’m what they call a creative genius, Momota-chan.”

Momota blinked. “I can tell.” He cut to the point. “Why are you so adamant about lying? What’s there to gain?”

“I don’t lie.” He kept that innocent smile plastered on, if not forcibly so. “I simply bend the truth. Annnnnd as for what’s to gain? I wouldn’t say there’s anything gained from lying, rather- it’s about what information you’re able to preserve for yourself. Of course I wouldn’t go and tell everything there is to know about myself to someone I just met.” He met Momota’s gaze.

“But what would I know, exactly?” He giggled. “I never lie.”

A silence lingered, slightly tense.

“Ah,” Momota began, finally understanding. “I see. Well, I’d like to believe if someone were to give away details of themselves before you do, wouldn’t that make them easier to trust?”

“We’d all like to believe that, wouldn’t we?” Ouma remarked. “There’s no way to be sure.”

“But there isn’t any way you would find out unless you took that risk, right?”

“Maybe. If someone was dumb enough to take that chance, that’s on them.”

“I think you should take that chance.”

A scoff. “Of course you do.”

Silence.

The tension had now made itself known, practically flooding the air around them. Neither person moved from their seats, eyes locked with one another. Violet met lilac, for almost what felt like an eternity. It was a battle to see who would break first, and neither seemed to budge, stubborn as they were.

Surprisingly however, it was Momota who let it go first.

“Well,” He began, getting up from the sofa. “I won’t force ya to tell me about yourself. Whenever you choose to do that is fine by me. Whether you do it or not.”

Ouma said nothing, watching him stretch. “By the way, since I’m sleeping here- is there anything I can wear? If they’re all just your clothes I assume they wouldn’t fit, but that’s fine, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping in this, but I figure I should ask, at least-”

“Come with me.” Ouma got up, signaling Momota to follow suit.

Following Ouma in tandem, they arrived at what was presumably his room, right down the hall from Momota’s.

“Wait here!” Slipping inside yet another seemingly crowded room, Ouma had disappeared. Again from the brief moment it was open, Momota noticed the piles of novelty items scattered across the ground, messy like the storage room he had seen earlier in the day. Momota figured that Ouma was some kind of hoarder to have these rooms brimming to the top with stuff. It was impressive, to say the least. He thought back to the exchange they had, and how quick Ouma was to defend himself.

Momota couldn't piece together why Ouma was so distrustful, but he figured the most he could do was try and show him there was nothing to fear in talking about himself. Maybe he had overshared a bit earlier, but it allowed conversation, didn't it? Was he wrong for trying to get to know Ouma, even though the latter showed no interest in sharing?

The questions swirled in his mind as he leaned against the wall.

He said he wouldn't force him, but the temptation to keep pushing remained, if not a bit subdued.

Why was he so interested anyway?

Momota sighed, and as if on cue the door opened. Ouma came out, holding some folded clothes in his hands. “I’m not totally sure these’ll fit perfectly, but they’re good enough for you to borrow. Probably.” He handed them off to Momota, not making eye contact.

He blinked, looking at the clothes. “Oh! Uh, thanks Ouma. Are these yours?” He examined them closer, putting the sweatpants over his shoulder and holding up the t-shirt. “They seem kinda big-”

Ouma yawned, not missing a beat to reply. “Nah, those were Gonta’s. I did give it to him though, and occasionally borrow it myself, soooooooo it’s practically mine I guess!”

Momota turned to look at the simple t-shirt, the bold phrase “Women want me, Fish fear me” plastered on it in black text. “It’s--It’s interesting.” He slung the shirt over his shoulder as well.

“Why thank you! Maybe I’ll buy you one of your own! We can match!” Ouma grinned.

“Would you really?” Momota asked.

“Nope!” Ouma continued grinning.

“Right.” Momota replied, unimpressed. “Well, I’ll go take a shower now-” He began to walk off, before stopping to look back at Ouma. The two stared at each other for a brief moment.

“....Where...is the bathroom again..?” Momota inquired, a bit sheepishly.

“Jeeeeeez, you forgot already?” The trickster sighed dramatically. “Down the hall, to the left, by your room. Don’t get lost on the way there spaceman, I know it takes a looooot of brain power to navigate this place, so don’t try so hard or what’s left of your brain will fry!” Ouma punctuated the sentence with a smile, much to Momota’s irritation.

“I won’t get lost!” Momota huffed. Shaking his head, he turned around, saluting the shorter man goodbye. “I’ll be back.”

“Bye bye!” Ouma waved enthusiastically. He watched Momota walk off, seeming a bit annoyed still. He was fun to mess with, Ouma thought. Easy to rile up, quick to explode. He walked back to the living room, flopping down onto the sofa in contemplation.

Momota was simple. Easy to read. Trusting. The conversation they had rang through Ouma’s mind once more, unsure of what to make of it. Was he being irrational? Paranoid? What exactly was there to fear?

That was a question Ouma could not answer, he realized.

The idea of being open with someone-- especially someone he’s only known for such a short time made his skin crawl. He didn’t like to reflect on his own anxieties much, nor did he like to reflect all, really. It was all too serious for him. Too real.

He’d rather keep living his lie.

He glanced to the side of him, noticing a phone on the other end of the couch. He realized it was Momota’s, the tacky galaxy print on the case giving it away entirely. An idea then burrowed it’s way into his devilish little mind, a wicked grin beginning to form on his face.

Yes, Momota was fun to mess with.

---

Nearly twenty minutes later, Momota emerged from the shower, the clothes Ouma had lent him fitting him better than he expected. Ouma turned his gaze away from the television. He paused what he was watching, hearing Momota make his way into the room.

“It fits me pretty well!” Momota had said, checking himself. He turned to face Ouma. “What do you think?”

Ouma had been staring at him with a blank expression, almost as if he was processing something.

Then the giggling started.

And the giggling turned into laughter.

“WOW!” He said in between his laughter. “Momota-chan,” He wiped a tear from his face. “Your hair looks like a wet mop!”

A few seconds passed before the insult fully registered into Momota's mind.

"NO IT DOESN'T!" He barked. "I just didn't have my usual product to style it with." He frowned, crossing his arms. "It's not ideal, but it looks fine."

"If looking like that is "fine", then your standards are on the floor." Ouma snickered.

"Shut up!" Changing the conversation, he took a look at what Ouma was watching. "What were you doing?"

"Oh nothing, just rewatching some scenes from Yugioh."

"Yugioh? The anime with the cards?" Momota asked. "I've never seen it."

"Well that's because you lack taste."

"I do NOT lack taste!" Momota fired back indignantly.

"So what's your favorite anime then?" Ouma raised an eyebrow.

Momota grinned widely. "Easy! It's Gurren Lagann!"

Ouma scoffed. "Of course it is."

Momota leaned in. "What does that mean?"

"Oh nothing," Ouma stated. "Juuuust that it seems so fitting for you. So predictable."

"Predictable?" Momota questioned, annoyed.

"Yeah! Plus, it's lame." Ouma said simply.

"Gurren Lagann is NOT lame!" Momota began to list on his fingers. "It has cool characters, great music, a good plot, AND good themes! It has everything you could want in a show!"

"It had one good character, who died not even halfway through the show, being replaced by someone no one in the audience cared about. The music is okay, I'll give you that. The plot is pretty dumb, and the themes are ruined by the execution. Need I go on?" He said dryly.

Momota glowered. "Oh, you're so wrong."

"Agree to disagree." Ouma said nonchalantly. "You'll understand one day when your taste in anime improves." He mocked, clearly enjoying the jeering.

Momota grunted, sitting down. "I understand plenty."

To which Ouma simply giggled.

They spent the rest of the night watching Yugioh, with Momota occasionally asking about what was going on, confused as to how an anime about a card game had so much lore. Ouma was enthralled to relay the info to him, seeming oddly content when talking about it.

Momota had gone to sleep around twelve, Ouma following suit not long after. The pair had said their goodnights and slept peacefully.

Or so, had attempted to.

It was like a dream almost, and Momota would've thought it to be such had he not fallen out of the bed and felt the jolt of pain shoot him awake. He heard a booming voice.

"YOU'RE GOING TO THE SHADOW REALM, KAITO!"

The phrase was the calm before the storm, as right after a blaring noise began to play. It took Momota a few seconds to realize it was the Yugioh theme they had listened to plenty of times earlier, but distorted to hell and back.

Earrape.

Scrambling to find the source of his agony, Momota finally realized it was from his phone, part of an alarm he did not set. Shutting it off, he knew exactly who did.

He practically bolted down the hall, banging on the door of his tormentor.

"Ouma!"

Keeping his scowl plastered on his face, the little shit in question opened the door, blank face twisting into pure amusement.

"Momota-chan! I didn't expect to see you here!"

Momota's irritation was more apparent as the seconds passed. "Sure you didn't, jackass." He glared down at Ouma. "The fuck was that for?"

"Hmm? What're you talking about, Momo-chan?"

Playing dumb. Of course.

"I'm talking about your fucking prank!" He took an accusatory stance, patience that he never had to begin with wearing thin. He didn't have time for Ouma's bullshit in the middle of the night.

"Prank you say? Me?" He tilted his head slightly to further feign the innocent look on his face, batting his eyelashes up at Momota. "What'd I do?"

The act only earned a sigh of frustration from Momota, looking down at Ouma directly. "You know exactly what you did, fucker."

Momota's obvious frustration seemed to excite Ouma even more, as he let out his signature horse laugh.

"Yeah, keep laughin', I'm sure it was hilarious." Momota said sardonically.

"Yeah, it really was." Ouma smiled broadly. "Maybe next time don't let some pigs trample me, hm?"

Momota deflated. So this was payback.

"How'd you even set it up? My phone has a password."

"Please, 4321 is hardly a password at all."

"I-" Momota stammered. "Well when'd you set it up!?"

Ouma rolled his eyes. "When you were in the bathroom, duh. You left your phone right out in the open! Soooo I figured some payback was due." He yawned.

"And you woke up just to yell the phrase through the door?"

"Momota-chan, I am nothing if not a professional in my craft."

"I can tell." Momota rubbed his face, sighing. "And now I'll be unable to fall back asleep."

"What," Ouma began. "Have trouble counting sheep?"

"I'm so close to dropkicking you."

"Gosh Momota-chan, so violent!"

"Damn right. What time is it anyway? I wasn't able to check properly."

"Oh! It's 3am."

"...."

Momota turned around immediately and began to walk away.

"Where are you going, oh dearest best buddy and pal of mine?"

"I'm going to watch Yugioh till I fall asleep."

"Oh! I'll join you!"

Ouma skipped along, satisfied. Momota grunted.

Eventually, the two did fall asleep once more on the couch, nearing 5 am.

---

Momota woke up lying alone on the couch the following day, somewhat dazed. He scanned the room around him, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Where was he again?

Sitting up, he moved to the slightly dirty square window, the sheer brightness of the outside world nearly blinding him. Momota squinted, trying to make out the figure he saw in the distance. Making note of the checkered bandana lying on their head, the pieces all clicked into place, the gears turning in Momota’s mind.

Ah, right, Ouma.

Ah, right.

Ouma.

He was such a handful, a force to be reckoned with. The prank he retaliated with was more than enough proof of that. He was spontaneous and eccentric, yet standoffish. Momota still didn’t fully understand him.

He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

The image of Ouma Momota had painted in his mind seemed to falter next to the one that stood before him. Momota watched as the trickster causally tended to the cows, having what seemed to be a faint smile on his face?

That was probably the most peaceful Momota had seen him.

Peeling his eyes away from the scene, Momota figured he should clean himself up.

He stretched, walking to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Momota frowned at the sight of his flattened hair, noting that he'd fix it when he got the chance to. Styling it in a somewhat decent manner, he washed his face and brushed his teeth using a toothbrush Ouma had presumably left out for him.

He really was prepared for visitors, huh.

Momota showered, changed into his normal attire, took one last glance at his reflection and left the bathroom. He then walked into the kitchen, stopping once he noticed there was a small plate left there for him.

Granted, it was simply toast and some orange juice, but he figured the sentiment was enough.

Knowing exactly who made it, Momota sat down, eating the breakfast.

---

Right after eating, Momota washed the dishes and strolled outside, spotting Ouma staring at a green tractor.

"Yo! Ouma!"

For a split second, it seemed that he flinched, before regaining composure entirely. Turning around quickly, Ouma waved energetically.

"Goooood morning Momota-chan! About time you woke up!"

"About time? How long have you been up for?"

"Oh not all that long actually, just long enough for the seasons to change, aliens to invade, and oh! The sky started falling!"

Momota knit his brows. "What? I- nevermind that," He shook his head, rubbing his neck. "I wanted to thank you for the breakfast and stuff."

Ouma put a finger to his chin. "And stuff?"

Momota paused. 'Y'know!" He made some gestures with his hands. "Stuff!"

"You mean thank you for being the greatest, most hospitable and respectful host ever?" Ouma clasped his hands.

"Why thank you Momota-chan!"

"Not exactly how I'd word it, but- yeah." Momota stared at the tractor in front of them. "What're you up to?"

"Me? Nothing really, juuust figuring out what exactly to do with this."

"You don't know what to do with it?"

"Well yeah! It's not my tractor, it's Gonta's!"

Momota narrowed his eyes. "And he never left you any instructions on what to do with it?"

Ouma turned to look at him. "Doctor's handwriting, Idiot-chan! Did you forget?"

"How's that my fault?!" Momota spluttered.

"Well anyway," Ouma began, turning back to look at it. "I kinda just look at this thing for about 5 minutes everyday, trying to figure out what to do before I get bored and head back inside. It's not really that big of a deal since I've already taken care of everything else, the tractor would've just made it easier."

"So you haven't used it once? How long have you been here for?"

"Two weeks."

Momota squinted, the gears turning in his head. "I feel like you were supposed to have used it by now-"

"You don't say! Gee, if only a farm boy who wrestled dirty pigs and has bad taste in anime helped me out--"

"Alright, alright- I'm choosing to ignore that, but also!" Momota gave a thumbs up. "Of course I can help!"

"My hero."

Momota scanned the area, before pointing towards a few big rocks by the toolshed ahead of them. "We should move those! I don't see any weeds or any crops to tend to, so this seems like it. Plus it's fairly simple!"

"Fairly simple, he says." Ouma arched his brow. "Care to demonstrate, Momota-chan?"

The man in question nodded assuredly, opening the door sitting down in the driver's seat. Ouma sat down in the seat beside him, the tractor luckily being made for two.

"Okay!" Momota gripped the wheel.

"Ready when you are, spaceman."

With that, Momota pulled the lever, activating the wheels. The tractor moved relatively sluggishly, in stark contrast to the energy it's driver held.

"Are you sure this thing can't move any quicker?" Ouma inquired.

"Just be patient, it's not that far from where we needa go anyway."

"It looks pretty far to me."

Momota glanced at Ouma. "You're just sayin' that cause you're bored."

"And if I am?"

"Then cope. We're gonna move those rocks."

He pouted, and the two rode quietly for the next couple of seconds.

...Till Ouma opened his mouth, of course.

"Momota-chan."

"Hm?"

"Has anyone told you you drive like an old person?"

"Wh-What does that mean?!"

"Exactly what you think it does." He yawned. "I bet turtles are faster than you!"

Momota tore his gaze away from the road ahead of them and glared at Ouma. "I am NOT speeding this tractor up."

"Why?" Ouma prodded, inching his face closer. "Can't do it?" He taunted, his stupid smirk wide on his face.

Momota scowled. "I can."

"Can't!"

"Can."

"Can't!"

"Shut-"

Before Momota could even finish that sentiment, Ouma had grabbed the wheel, gleefully taking over.

"Ouma, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Relax!" He yelled. "I'm just speeding this up!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT!"

The duo began to fight for the wheel, shoving each other back and forth, before Momota looked up, noticing the tree they were quickly approaching.

"MOVE!" He shoved Ouma out of the way, quickly gaining control of the wheel.

Though it appeared to be too late, the tractor grazed the tree, crashing as it spun to the side before it stopped entirely.

The two sat in utter silence, Momota in disbelief at what had transpired, and Ouma with an unreadable expression on his face.

"....Least the tractor isn't totally wrecked."

Momota turned to look at Ouma incredulously, looking like he was going to throttle him.

"THE FUCKING FRONT TIRE CAME OFF!"

"...It's replaceable."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in vexation.

"That's not the point, Ouma."

"Well, we're alive, aren't we?"

"Barely!" Momota scoffed. "Do you even know how to drive?!"

"Nope!"

Momota sat there, stunned.

"SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TAKE THE WHEEL?!"

There was no answer, Momota figured. Ouma didn't have one, or at least refused to say why. Either way, he ran his hand down his face, trying to contain his anger.

"I-It's fine, you're right-- the tire is replaceable. But jeez man, your actions have consequences. Can't just go around doin' shit cause you think it's funny."

He opened the door, hopping out of the mildly wrecked tractor. Ouma followed suit, not saying anything.

Together they put the lone tire against the tractor, cleaning up the site in the only way they could.

"The damage isn't all that bad, thankfully." He examined the wreck closely, hand on his chin. "You'd probably be able to fix it up quickly with the help of a mechanic. As for the tires-"

Momota paused mid sentence. "Wait a second-- you were supposed to take me to the tire store today!"

"Ah, right!" Ouma perked up, dragging Momota away from the scene. "We can do that now!"

"How are we even getting there?" Momota asked, his eyes darting across the farm in curiosity, the conversation shifting entirely.

"Easy!" Ouma grinned brightly. "Public transportation!"

Momota narrowed his eyes. "And how far are we from the nearest bus?"

Ouma looked forward, leading the way. "A mile or two, I believe."

"You're not sure." The astronaut said flatly.

"If you won't let me check it on my phone, then yeah, I wouldn't be-" He turned his head to look at Momota. "Don't worry! I can lead the way!"

"Kinda hard not to when you nearly got us killed almost 15 minutes ago." Momota remarked.

Ouma turned away, eyes all of a sudden glued to his phone's map.

They moved forward afterwards, Momota allowing Ouma to lead him with his left hand.

"So...the auto repair store. Pretty far from the farm. Have you been there before?"

"Yeah, unfortunately." Ouma commented. "I know the guy that owns the place. He's friends with someone I know."

"So you're friends with him too then?"

Ouma scoffed. "No way in hell. I wouldn't consider a pissbaby like him my friend."

"But you've got a mutual friend, right? Wouldn't that make getting along easier?"

"No. I don't even consider her to be my friend. We're just acquaintances who happen to have the misfortune of knowing the same loud bitch."

Ouma said all of this without looking up, staring at his phone's map.

"You sound like you hate them."

"Hate is too strong. Have a dislike for, maybe. Even then I'm indifferent to them."

Was that true? Momota pondered.

"So they annoy you?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Not a beat of silence could pass before Momota began again.

"So what would you consider a friend?"

Ouma turned to look at him directly.

"Hm?"

"Like- y'know, what does someone have to do for you to consider them a friend?"

"Do my evil bidding for me."

They stared at each other for a brief second.

"That's not frienshi-- BE SERIOUS!"

"I am being serious, Momota-chan. They have to be my evil minion in order to be my friend. Why are you so interested, hm? You wanna be my subordinate?"

"I take no orders, thank you very much." Momota said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just askin' because I already considered you a friend-- somewhat."

Ouma blinked, turning his head away from Momota's gaze.

"We've only known each other for a total of two days and you already consider me a friend? Gosh, Momota-chan moves so quickly. Soon you'll be asking for my hand in marriage!"

"I-" He shook his head. "Well yeah- I already consider you a friend."

Was that odd?

"You really are dumb then!"

"Huh?!"

Ouma stared back at Momota rather pointedly. "Being friends with someone means they have your trust. You trust me, of all people?"

Momota nodded. "Well yeah, what's dumb about that?"

Ouma looked forward. "Your funeral, not mine."

"If it turns out that it wasn't the best idea to trust you, it'll be my fault. So far it seems to be a decent idea, despite nearly dying earlier."

With that comment, Ouma seemed to shut up entirely, either deciding that talking to Momota about this was pointless or seemingly being at a loss for words. Momota couldn't settle on which it was.

Sure, he had only known Ouma for 2 days, but Momota always trusted his own judgement. Ouma was outlandish and vivacious, but he didn't seem to be a bad guy. He could be mean spirited but it was never true malice, Momota thought.

Trying to piece together the puzzle that was Ouma Kokichi in his mind, he furrowed his brow.

Was he foolish for trusting Ouma so quickly, or was Ouma irrational for being so wary of trust?

A mix of both, probably.

Momota stared directly at the back of Ouma's head, following him blindly.

“It takes a lot to be my friend, if you’re so interested in knowing.”

He snapped out of his daze, taken aback by Ouma’s voice.

“I figured.”

Ouma kept his gaze forward, the words as fleeting as they came.

Stillness loomed around the pair, the conversation appearing to be disregarded by those who partook in it. Momota took in his surroundings once more, deciding to look anywhere but at Ouma, still following his lead. They walked further down, reaching a sole bus stop in the middle of nowhere. As luck would have it, the bus arrived nearly minutes after them. Boarding the aforementioned vehicle, it was noted to be pretty vacant, with only a handful of passengers. The duo sat together, Ouma at the window and Momota on the outside.

“So how much longer till we get there? Does the bus take us directly there or do we gotta walk some more?”

“The bus leaves us preeeetty close to the place. You won’t miss it.”

“I won’t? Is there a big sign there or somethin’?”

“Try an obnoxiously bright sign.” Ouma yawned. “Real hard to miss.”

“What, like neon?” Momota quizzed.

“You sure do like asking questions, huh Momota-chan?” Ouma teased. “You’ll find out when you see it. It’s almost as hard to miss as your dumb hair!” He beamed.

“It’s not dumb!” Momota barked defensively, raising his hands up to protect his flattened hair. “Even like this, it's called style- which is obviously somethin’ you have no idea about.”

“I have no style?” Ouma taunted. “Least I don’t make galaxy patterns my whole personality.” He pointed to Momota’s hoodie, which was covered in a similar print to his phone.

“Galaxy patterns are cool!”

“Said no one ever-”

“I said so!”

Ouma pretended to look around, smiling just the tiniest bit. “Did someone say something? I thoooought I almost heard someone say galaxy prints are cool.”

Momota huffed loudly, slumping in his chair slightly.

“Momota-chan! When did you get here?”

“Y’know what, I’ll forgive you for the lack of space appreciation-- not everyone can admire it like The Luminary Of The Stars!"

“Oh right, your stripper name! Say, Momo-chan, have you been to the moon?”

Ignoring the stripper comment, Momota jumped right into the question. "Not yet! One day though!”

“One day, hm?” Ouma inquired. “So I take it you haven’t actually been to space yet?”

Momota rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well no, I haven’t. I’m still in training.”

“You are?”

The astronaut trainee nodded. “Yep! Have been for a year now!” He grinned proudly. “Training is two years, and they teach you plenty of things. Space engineering, science, medicine, language training, flight training and physical training!

“Language training, hm? What other languages do you speak? Clown?”

“Nope, pretty sure that’s what you speak-” Momota shot back slyly, continuing before Ouma could retort. “I also speak English and Russian.”

Ouma blinked, slightly chuckling. “Interesting!” He leaned against the window. “Say something in Russian!”

“Right now?” Ouma nodded. “Uh…” Momota began, scratching his temple in an attempt to think of a phrase.

“Ты такой странный парень.”

Ouma gasped indignantly. “Momota-chan! How could you say that about my mother?!” He turned away dramatically. “I can’t believe you!”

“Say what?! I just called you weird!”

Ouma whipped back around to face Momota. “Nishishi, I knew that! See, I also speak Russian!”

“You do?”

“Si! Eres un pendejo!”

“THAT’S NOT RUSSIAN!”

“You could tell? Awh jeez, you got me! Look at you, Mr. Worldwide! That’s the only phrase I know, it’s Spanish!”

“What does it even mean?” Momota questioned.

“No idea, someone yelled it at me once!”

“....Is that a lie?”

Ouma laughed. “You figure it out! Anyway-” He clasped his hands together. “Tell me, Mr. “I speak 3 languages”, what’s so cool about space?”

Momota raised an eyebrow, amused. “Look who’s askin’ the questions now.”

“Weeeeeell maybe it turns out you’re not as boring as I thought. Or maybe I’m looking for something to make fun of, who knows? Either way, you’ve piqued my interest, spaceman.”

“Sure, sure!” He grinned widely. “The cool thing about space is that it’s the great unknown. Uncharted territory, completely vast and wide. No one really knows what’s out there, the astronauts themselves get to explore and make discoveries that no one has ever made before! It’s a giant adventure, in a sense. There’s so much in this universe that we don’t know about, and while some people might find that daunting, it just creates this...excitement for me? The idea that there’s so much more out there to see and do. It’s incredible, don’t you think?”

Ending his mini rant, Momota smiled a bit bashfully, noting the look of slight surprise he caught on Ouma’s face, right before it morphed back into something more typical. Was it too much?

He coughed. “But yeah, it’s very cool! And so are galaxy patterns!”

Ouma looked at his nails. “Very passionate, I see.”

“Of course! A man is nothing without his passion!”

“So you say.”

“Well yeah! Passion is what drives a person. Y’know, your dreams and goals, they’re all motivated by passion. If you didn’t have any, you wouldn’t want anything out of life.”

“Is that so, Momota-chan?”

“Very much so!” Momota pressed his fists together. “Are you passionate about anything, Ouma?”

The trickster in question put a finger to his chin as he made a pensive face. “I’m passionate about world domination!”

“Wh- really?!”

“Yes! Really, I am Momota-chan. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed that the tire shop I’m taking you to is actually my REAL secret base of operations for my super secret evil organization!”

“Now you’re DEFINITELY lyin’!”

Ouma pouted. “Aw man, you don’t believe me? Guess you will when they start to cut you open!”

“Jeez, shut up! How old do you think I am? Only kids and idiots would fall for somethin’ like that!”

“Well to be fair, you do fit the second categor-”

“SHUT UP!” Momota pointed a finger towards Ouma, who put his hands up.

“Oh, and to answer your question, I figured you were pretty old, 70 maybe, considering the way you drive and all."

Momota gawked. "DID YOU REALLY?!"

"No!" He giggled. "Or maybe I did, that stupid goatee makes you look waaaay older!"

"It's not stupid!" Momota began to stroke his chin. "It gives me a glamorous celebrity vibe. You're just jealous you probably couldn't grow one!"

Ouma stuck his tongue out. "As if I'd want patchy pieces of hair on my face! It would look gross. I appreciate my youthful glow."

"You look like you're twelve."

"I'll have you know I am actually 6,000 years old! I am a demon who's been residing on this planet to torment idiots!"

"Y'know, I would've actually believed that-" He pointed out before shaking his head. "But seriously, how old are you?"

"I am of 20 years of age, my dearest darling buddy Momota-chan-"

Momota looked at Ouma, taken by surprise. "We're the same age!"

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed, with the way you need a cane!"

"I DO NOT need a cane!"

"That's what they all say! Poor Momo-chan, stuck in denial-" Ouma looked out the window of the bus, noting that they were nearing their stop.

"Oh good! We're here!" He grabbed Momota's wrist and made way to exit the bus, which left them in front of a very strange building.

Their destination had been hard to look at, to say the least. Ouma had called it obnoxious, but Momota had thought it to be an exaggeration. Now that he stood before said building though, he realized obnoxious was an understatement.

Completely demolishing the dull town scenery, Souda's Auto Repair stood before the two, the walls outside painted with a blinding coat of neon yellow. The windows on said wall were dark and hard to see inside too, Momota noting they were likely for aesthetic, rather than practicality. The sign that was plastered onto the establishment was rather hard to miss as well, the name of the place written out in bold red letters, with presumably the owner's face crudely drawn right next to it.

"You really weren't lying, huh." Momota gaped at the building.

"Told you! Now let's hurry up and get this over with, I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be!"

"Alright, alright!" Following Ouma into the store, the bell at the top of the door jingled quite loudly.

Just as the building appeared on the outside, the inside seemed to be just as flashy, the walls hot pink, adorned with tacky novelty decorations and movie posters. The floor was carpeted, the dark blue color contrasting heavily against the walls.

There were a couple of green chairs put up against the wall, with a magazine rack next to it. Another door in the opposite direction led to the garage, presumably where the owner of the eccentric place was. In front of the door there stood a sole wood counter, to which Ouma walked right up to.

“Souda-chan!” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth.

A second passed before he heard a shout from beyond the entryway. The two waited briefly as the door swung open, revealing a man as colorful as the place he owned.

“Oh, hey Ouma! Are you here to pick something up for Miu? I thought she wouldn’t need her power saw for a couple more days.”

Ouma dismissed the comment, waving his hand around. “Pfft, that whore can pick up her own things.” He rested his elbows on the counter, putting his head in his hands. “I’m here on my own business.”

“You are?” Souda questioned, looking between him and Momota. “What’cha need?”

“Tires. Annnnnd uh, a tractor inspection. But that can be arranged for another day. I mostly just need the tires.”

“Tractor inspection? Did you crash something!?”

Momota looked over from where he stood, examining the magazines on the rack. “Ye-”

“That’s not important!” Ouma interjected. “My deaaaaaar Souda-chan, would you mind getting us the tires?”

Souda narrowed his eyes before dropping the subject. “Sure, what kinda tires do you need?”

“Car tires, obviou-”

“We need two tires for a sedan. Any brand is fine, just as long as we get some tires.” Momota interrupted, walking up to the counter to stand beside Ouma.

Souda raised an eyebrow. “Just two? I got some back here!”

“Great!” Momota gave him a thumbs up. “Do we wait here, or-?”

Souda shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever you guys want, just don’t go touching any of my stuff.” He gave Ouma a look when saying that last bit, to which the latter just gasped dramatically.

“I wooooould never!”

Souda frowned. “You said that last time, and then all of a sudden my tool shelf was on the floor!” The pink haired man turned around, going through the door, the duo following suit.

“It wasn’t my fault though! Iruma-chan did it!”

“She was in the bathroom! Stop lying!”

Ouma sniffed, pouting. “You’re so mean, Souda-chan.” He turned to Momota, grabbing his hoodie and burying his head into his chest. “Momota-chan! Defend my honor! I’m being slandered here!”

Momota looked down at the melodramatic display, unimpressed. “It’s probably deserved.”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“STOP CRYING!” Momota barked.

Ouma moved his head from Momota’s chest, grinning. “Okay!”

Souda rolled his eyes. “He always does this.”

“I’ve noticed.” Momota shook his head.

The trio walked into the following room, the change of scenery being extremely drastic. The colors and personality of the previous room were gone, only remains of it being present in a few posters slapped on the stone walls of the workshop and some fun trinkets on the workbench. There were a good amount of energy cans sprawled all over the room, along with some stray balls of crumpled paper. The garage was rather spacious with a mountain of tires lying in the corner, behind a sports car with an open hood.

“Here they are!” Souda sorted through the pile of tires, rolling out two of them before Momota and Ouma.

Momota smiled, picking up the tires with both of his arms. “Perfect!”

They walked back to the counter, Momota setting them down. “How much?”

“13,184 yen.”

Momota blinked before sighing a little, taking out his wallet. “I hoped it’d be less.” He muttered.

He handed Souda the money, frowning at his now nearly empty wallet.

Souda grinned, taking the yen and putting it in the cashier. Momota put away his wallet, picking up the tires. “Thanks.”

“Byeeee Souda-chan!” Ouma waved enthusiastically to Souda, holding the door for Momota. “I’ll be back for the tractor stuff another time!”

Souda waved a bit awkwardly, dreading the next time he’d have to cross pass with Ouma. “Bye….” As the door shut, the jingling sound echoed around the room. Souda sighed. “Man, I gotta ban that guy from coming here."

---

Ouma and Momota made their way down the sidewalk, Ouma held his hands behind his head, while Momota looked around the stores that surrounded them, hands occupied by the tires.

“Where’s the bus stop again?” Momota inquired.

Ouma turned to look at him. “Ready to leave so soon, Momota-chan? Don’t you want to look around the town some more? Maybe you’ll find some ugly pants to match your hoodie!”

“I’ve only got 550 yen left, Ouma. That’s hardly anything!”

Ouma moved his head to the side, eyes closed. “That’s why I’ll cover it for you!”

“Really?” Momota narrowed his eyes. “You have money on you?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“Ouma, monopoly money doesn’t count.”

Ouma opened an eye. “How did you know I had monopoly money on me?”

Momota smiled. “Lucky guess. I saw the monopoly box in the guest room.”

Closing his eyes, Ouma turned forward. “Well sure, it doesn’t count. What do you want to do then? Go back already?”

Momota mulled it over for a second, pursing his lips together. "We can look around, if you really don't wanna go back to the farm yet."

“Theeeen it’s window shopping time!” Ouma picked up the pace, crossing the street to make his way to the abundance of stores. “I know some good places here!”

“Wait up!” Momota ran after Ouma, gripping the tires in his hand.

Ouma stopped in front of a costume store, hands and face pressed to the glass. “Look, Momota-chan! It’s for you!”

Momota turned his head to face the glass window, seeing a bright clown costume in the middle of the display. “You sure it's not for you instead?”

Ouma simply giggled. “Maybe it is!”

“Why do you like clowns so much anyway? You got all those pictures back at the farm and stuff.”

Ouma ripped his face away from the window pane and looked up at Momota. “Isn’t it obvious, Momota-chan? They’re funny!”

“Well- obviously they’re funny but- you seem to like them a lot. Do you wanna be one or somethin’?”

“What if I told you I was already one?”

Momota blinked. “That would make a lot of sense.”

“Well too bad! I’m not!” Ouma smiled. “Why do you care to know anyway, Momota-chan?”

“Just curious, is all.” Momota’s gaze traveled around the outfits on display before them. “You don’t get to know someone without askin’ questions.”

Ouma gave Momota a side glance, no longer looking at him. “I see.” He stared silently at his reflection in the glass and the outfit in front of him, before opening his mouth. “The actual clown aesthetic isn’t lame, it’s kind of obnoxious, like Souda-chan's ratty hair, but it works because the absurdity is part of the comedy.” Ouma paused a minute, before continuing his little spiel.

“It’s not meant to be taken seriously, and it’s just fun. Makes people happy. All of those aspects make it….not boring, in a way.”

Momota observed Ouma as he spoke his piece, genuinely intrigued.

“I actually hate clowns though, I prefer mimes!”

Ouma closed himself off almost as quickly as he had opened up. Momota frowned, watching the trickster casually continue walking forward. Choosing not to comment, he followed suit.

They passed a few different stores, before stopping in front of a smaller one at the corner.

“Oooh! Free palm readings!”

“You believe in that stuff?”

Ouma shrugged, putting his hands behind his head. “I don’t not believe in that stuff.”

“What does that even mean?” Momota scrunched his nose in confusion.

“That I don’t outright believe in it, but I don’t deny its existence either. Who knows, maybe that reading I got that told me I’d die in my bathtub is true!”

“You were told YOU’D DIE?!”

Ouma nodded. “Yep! So y’know, I have no idea how that would happen, but! It could, so-”

“Well it won’t!”

“How can you be so sure of that, Momota-chan? Do you believe in it?”

“Not at all!” Momota crossed his arms. “I’ve never believed in the concept of seeing the future. I don’t like the idea of fate, that your life is planned. No way! I make my own path.”

Ouma nodded. “Poetic, truly. I’d like you to give a speech at my funeral when the bathtub finally decides my time is up.”

“It won’t happen!” Momota exclaimed.

“You don’t want to give a speech at my funeral? You’re so cold, Momota-chan!”

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ die!”

“Can’t wait till I get to spend eternity haunting you! Nishishishi!”

Momota tensed slightly. “Don’t talk about haunting!”

Ouma grinned, laughing.

The pair traversed the streets, commenting every now and then on the scenery around them, walking aimlessly. They stopped at a quaint café, with tables to sit and dine on the outside. It was rather simple, the building painted brown and the tables white, under a green umbrella.

“I’m kinda hungry.” Ouma blurted, glancing at Momota, trying to gage a response.

"And I'm broke." The latter shot back quickly.

“You said you had 550 yen, we could get something cheap!”

Momota gave him a look. “We need that money for the bus!”

Ouma pouted. “Moooooomota-chan-”

“Can’t you wait till we get back to the farm?”

“Nope!”

Momota sighed. “Do they even have cheap food here?”

“Let’s find out!” Ouma sat down at the table closest to them, swinging his legs back and forth.

“Fine.” The taller man sat down opposite Ouma, setting the tires against his chair on both sides. He leaned on the table, looking around.

“Is this a bakery?”

“Yeppers!”

Momota narrowed his eyes. “So you wanna have sweets instead of an actual lunch, no wonder you didn’t wanna go back to eat.”

“Correct again!”

He put his chin in the palm of his hand. “Well you go ahead and get something, I don’t want anythin’.”

“You don’t like desert?” Ouma tilted his head.

“I do! Once in a while at least. Eating sweets too often isn’t good, y’know.”

“You sound like someone’s mother.” Ouma chaffed.

“I do not!” Momota exclaimed.

“You totally do! Next you’ll start telling me I’m grounded!”

“I won’t!” Momota huffed. “Just get somethin’ already.”

“If you say so!” Ouma said, leaning back in his chair.

As if on cue, a waitress approached their table, holding two menus for the two. She wore a radiant smile on her face, her long dark hair picked up into two ponytails styled with a big green bow. The name tag she wore identified her as “Chabashira.”

“Hello! Welcome to Hot Cross Buns! How can Tenko help you?”

“Hey! We’d like your chea-”

“We’d like to order everything on the menu!”

“NO WE WOULDN’T!”

The waitress cringed, her smile faltering immediately. “You degen--” She glanced to the side before continuing her sentence. “Would you please not yell? It’s disrespectful to be so loud.”

“Sorry.” Momota muttered.

“Anyway!” She continued. “What would you like?”

“Hmmmmmmmm-” Ouma looked over the menu, in contemplation.

“Remember to pick the cheapest option.” Momota whispered.

“Ooookay!” Ouma chirped, looking up at Chabashira. “I’d like the strawberry cake!”

Chabashira nodded, scribbling it down on her notepad. “Alright! Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s all!”

“Great!” She smiled once more, though this time it seemed to be a bit forced. “Tenko will be back with some water!” She grabbed their respective menus and ran off.

Momota nodded, before turning to Ouma once she left. “Water is free, right?”

“Of course! Water is always free! It’s free when you go outside and drink straight from the sky!”

“Are you implying you drink rain?!”

“Who said I did it? I just pointed out the truth. Maybe you should give it a try though Momota-chan, you’re missing out!”

“So you have done it!”

“Who knows!”

“You do!”

“You’re right! And I’m not telling!” Ouma giggled.

Before Momota could reply, Chabashira returned with two glasses of water.

“Here you go!” She set the glasses down on the table, immediately heading back as soon as she did.

Momota took his glass and began to idly drink it.

“Have you come here before?” He asked.

“Nope, actually! I’ve passed by this place plenty of times, but I’ve never actually bothered to eat here.”

“So how often do you come to this town?” He inquired.

“Once in a while, most of the time it's against my will.”

“Your friend is the one that brings you, right? Iruma?”

"You remember! I'm impressed, Momota-chan!" Ouma smiled. "Yes, that bitchlet usually drags me around the town to go shopping with her. She usually compensates by buying me something but most of the time I'm being held hostage!"

"You sound like you don't entirely mind going with her though?"

"Of course I mind!" Ouma leaned back in his chair flamboyantly. "She's so mean to me Momota-chan, you should hear the things she calls me!"

"You just called her a bitchlet, so it's probably a mutual thing." Momota pointed out.

"Wow! You catch on quick, huh!"

"I pay attention when I can."

"Must be hard for your caveman brain to do, I imagine!"

"It's NOT!"

"Soooooooo you admit you have a caveman brain Momo-chan?"

"I DON'T!"

"Jeez, don't be so loud! That waitress is gonna scold you again!"

Momota huffed, his chin in his palm and his free hand tapping the table rhythmically. "Says you."

"Hm? What'd you say Caveman-chan?" Ouma leaned in closer, his smug smirk plastered on his face.

"You're just as loud as I am! You got no room to talk!"

The prankster clutched at his chest theatrically and gasped. "I am NOT loud! I'll have you know I am the least loud person I know!"

"Then you clearly don't know many people." Momota said flatly.

"I know you! Which proves my point that you're louder than I am!"

"That doesn't even make sense!"

As if she materialized out of nowhere, the waitress came up to the two, her smile extremely strained now.

"Here's your cake. Enjoy." Chabashira said it quickly and swiftly, muttering something neither male could hear under her breath.

"That's a lot of cake." Momota commented, noting that they were given an entire cake rather than a slice or two. "How much did it cost again?"

"110 yen!" Ouma said, mouth full of cake. He wasted no time with his sweets.

"That's incredibly cheap! There must've been a sale or somethin' today."

"Or maybe it's gone bad and they've made it cheap to get rid of it!" Ouma swung his legs in his chair as he ate.

"Don't say that!" Momota made a gesture with his hand. "It looks good, so I think we just got lucky."

Ouma looked at Momota, resting his head on his hands. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? At aaaaaaaall?”

He glanced back at Ouma, simply shaking his head in response. “Nah, I’m fine.”

"Are you reaaaaally sure? I'll just eat the whole thing if you don't want any!"

Momota stared at the now partially eaten cake once more, considering it for a second. "Well," He glanced back at Ouma. "It is a lot of cake, so-"

"Soooo?"

"Yes!"

"Yes what?"

Momota made a face. "You know what I mean!"

"Nishishishi, of course I'll share my cake with you! For 770 yen!"

"I'm literally paying for you!"

"Oh yeah!" Ouma continued eating his cake. "Theeeeen I'll get a plate for you!" He waved at their waitress, who approached them quickly.

"Is there anything Tenko can help you with?"

"We would like another plate!" Ouma grinned at her, mouth entirely full of cake.

Chabashira made a slight face of disgust before shaking her head and nodding. "Got it!" She ran off again, muttering the words "no manners", as Ouma had heard it.

She returned instantaneously, setting the extra plate and spoon down on their table.
Not wasting any time, she walked away to continue working.

Momota moved to grab his plate and bring the plate closer, figuring out how to cut his piece.

“Hold on! I’ll cut your piece for you.” Ouma pulled the plate back towards him, cutting a very thin slice for Momota. He slid the plate back to him, cheery as ever. “There!”

“That’s hardly anything!” Momota complained.

“You did say you didn’t like too many sweets, remember?”

“You just want the rest of it to yourself! You offered me a piece!”

“I never said how much I was offering you! Nishishishi!”

Momota sighed in irritation. “I’ll make you pay for yourself.”

“But I don’t have any money!” Ouma whined.

“That’s kinda the point, isn’t it? Momota pulled his plate back. “And I said I didn’t like too many sweets too often.” He smiled in satisfaction as he cut himself a bigger slice. “This is the exception!”

Ouma rolled his eyes. “Fiiiiine. I’ll share my cake with you, out of the endless kindness in my heart. Be grateful, Momo-chan!”

Momota snorted, eating his piece. “Sure, sure.”

They ate in a rather comfortable silence, content with their desert. A few minutes passed, before the waitress returned with the bill.

“You can leave the bill on the table once you’ve finished your cake. Tenko hopes you enjoyed it!” She left the two, standing nearby.

Ouma pushed the bill towards Momota, still paying attention to the last bits of his cake.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I got it.” Momota picked up the bill, drinking his water.

And then he choked.

“Ouma!” He whispered harshly, closing the bill immediately.

“Hm?”

“The cake wasn’t 110 yen!” He whispered angrily. “It was 1100 yen!”

“It was? Ah, that menu was kind of dirty! I guess there was another zero!”

“Ouma, stop fuckin’ around! I can’t pay for this!”

“Calm down, calm down! We can figure something out!”

Momota inhaled sharply, glancing around them and collecting himself. “Y’know what, you’re right. I think I got an idea.”

“That’s a first!”

“Shut up!”

---

Momota closed the bill in his hands and set it down on the table, putting his now empty glass on top of it.

“Let’s hope this works.” He bit his lip, a little nervous.

“Probably won’t!” Ouma grinned, picking up one of the tires, while Momota picked up the other.

“You’re so reassuring.” Momota rolled his eyes.

“I know!”

Momota cleared his throat, ignoring Ouma and calling over the waitress.

“Thank you for coming! Come again!” Chabashira smiled, picking up the bill.

“Now, now!”

The two of them began to walk away, moving faster down the block by the second.

And then they heard it.

“YOU DEGENERATE MALES! COME BACK HERE AND PAY THE BILL! THIS ISN’T REAL MONEY YOU MENACES! TENKO IS GOING TO DESTROY YOU!”

Chabashira’s ranting had been loud enough to still hear halfway down the block, her bottled up rage spilling out with each word that came out of her mouth.

“I think she’s gonna follow us!”

“So run faster, idiot-chan! Your legs are long enough for it!”

“YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!”

They turned around simultaneously while running, seeing her hot on their tail.

“Shit!” Momota cursed.

“This way!” Ouma yelled, turning around into an alleyway.

Chabashira continued her pursuit, chasing the two out of the alleyway and into the street.

They ran frantically, swerving around bystanders and street benches. She appeared to be getting dangerously closer with each turn they made, nearly grabbing Ouma by the tips of his hair.

Momota then grabbed Ouma’s free hand with his own, and bolted into a crowd of people surrounding a nearby street market.

Unable to spot them in the crowd they disappeared into, Chabashira shouted. “DON’T COME BACK! YOU’RE BANNED!” She turned around and huffed angrily, walking back. “Typical males.”

---

They ran out of the crowd, going down a few blocks till they could no longer hear her voice.

The duo stopped, catching their breath.

And then they burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Momota exclaimed, still catching his breath.

Ouma giggled, smiling widely. “I’m impressed, we didn’t die!”

Momota laughed, the high of the chase dying down as the seconds passed. “Guess that monopoly money actually was useful.”

“Of course it was! I told you I’d cover it!” Ouma beamed.

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Momota smiled, not before noticing he was still holding Ouma’s hand. The shorter man noticed it instantly, slipping away from his grip.

“Well!” Ouma began, turning away. “Guess we should start heading back!”

Momota blinked, missing the feeling of his hand slightly. He shook his head, following behind Ouma. “Right.”

They began their venture down the road and out of the town, a comfortable silence taking over the world around them. Ouma walked ahead of Momota, humming a soft tune. He was carrying one of the tires with both of his hands, cradling it in his arms. He was content. Peaceful, even. Momota smiled quietly at the sight.

As they arrived at the bus stop and boarded, they sat in the back. Momota at the window and Ouma on the outside. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in a myriad of colors. There was hardly anyone in the bus with them aside from an old woman carrying groceries in the front of the bus.

It wasn’t till Ouma spoke that the silence had broken.

“Momota-chan.”

He turned to face Ouma, only to see the latter not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Today wasn’t boring.”

Momota stared at Ouma, a little taken aback. “It was fun, wasn’t it?” A faint smile made its way to his face, gazing forward at the rest of the bus.

Ouma kept his eyes locked on the floor, not responding.

“I uh,” He began. “I wanted to-”

Momota tilted his head, sitting patiently.

The prankster shut his eyes, sighing as he quickly muttered out the rest of his sentence.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

The astronaut said nothing, clearly stunned by the confession.

“For crashing the tractor, I mean. And flattening your tires. And making fun of your ugly goatee.”

Momota raised an eyebrow at the last part. Ouma continued.

“I said it took a lot to be my friend, and I meant it.” He finally looked up, locking his eyes with Momota for a brief second. As the seconds passed he glanced away to the empty seat next to them.

“I’m not an easy person to deal with. You’ve probably already realized that. But you haven’t just gotten up and left either? Which is-”

Ouma paused.

“It’s nice.”

He peeked back at Momota, not bothering to say anything further. The latter just stared at him with a look of awe.

“Well,” Ouma turned away, not facing him. “Are you gonna say anything?”

“I am!” Momota held his hands up. “I was just-- surprised.”

“I did say I was full of surprises.”

Momota cracked a wider grin upon hearing that, to which Ouma mirrored him.

“Yeah, you are.”

---

Upon arriving back to the farm, the two carried the tires back inside, setting them on the floor. Momota flopped back on the couch, exhausted. Ouma leaned against the doorway, arms folded.

“Sooooo I figure you wanna replace your tires and go home, hm?” He asked.

“I would, but--” Momota took a glance out the window. “Looks like it's already pretty late."

“What, are you afraid of driving at night?”

“No!” He put an arm over the couch he sat on. “I just think it’d be better to drive in the mornin’.”

“Oh, I see!” Ouma clasped his hands together. “You wanna spend more time with me!”

Momota scratched his cheek. “I mean if you don’t mind me stayin’, then-”

Ouma blinked.

He then looked at his nails. “I gueeeeess you could stay one more night, sure.”

Momota moved his head back against the couch, relaxing himself into it. “Thanks, Ouma. I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” Ouma made an open gesture with his hands. “I am the most hospitable and kind host in the world, after all.” He grinned.

Momota chuckled, sitting up. “You’re definitely not the worst one.”

“Why thank you Momota-chan!” Ouma simpered. He moved towards the other side of the room, holding onto the doorway that led into the hallway. “Wish I could say the same for you though! You’re an awful guest!” He snickered.

Momota shook his head with a faint smile on his face, not bothering to retort. Watching Ouma walk out of the room shortly after, he heard the light switch on in what was presumably the kitchen. He realized Ouma had likely gone to go make something for them to eat, considering they had really just eaten only cake for lunch mere hours before. He gazed out the window once more, noting the scenery. Turning off the light in the room, Momota walked outside.

---

A couple of minutes later, Ouma opened the door outside to see Momota lying in the grass, stargazing.

“So that’s where you went! I thought Gonta’s ghost finally showed up and dragged you away!”

Momota noticed Ouma, flinching a bit. “Don’t joke about that shit!”

“Nishishishi, don’t worry Momota-chan, he’s friendly!” Ouma giggled, covering his mouth.

“Yeah, sure.” Momota turned his attention back up to the sky, returning to his relaxed position.

Ouma walked closer, standing right next to where Momota was laying. “So I take it you’re staying out here? So rude Momota-chan, leaving in the middle of the sleepover!”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere! I just decided to come out here cause I noticed how visible the stars were. Wanted to take a look.”

“Ahh, I see. The spaceman wanted to be in his natural habitat.”

“Damn right he did.” Momota shifted his gaze from Ouma to the array of stars littered across the sky above them. “There’s next to no light pollution here, so everything is much more visible. I’d love to have a view like this back at my place.”

“You can’t see the stars where you live?” Ouma crouched down to be closer to Momota’s eye level, inquisitive.

Momota scoffed. “I wish I could. I live in the city, and sure, it’s nice and all, but- you don’t get to see stuff like this.” He sighed, relaxing into the grass behind him. “It’s incredible, don’t you think?”

Ouma turned his head to stare at the sky, fully situating himself as he sat beside Momota. The trickster was silent for a few seconds, fully taking in the sight. He had never really paid much mind to the stars, but for some reason they seemed just the tiniest bit brighter.

“What’s so incredible about them?” He asked. “They’re just balls of light.”

“They’re not “balls of light”, they’re celestial bodies that produce light.”

“So they’re like lightbulbs.”

“They’re nothing like lightbulbs!”

“Mmm, I dunno.” Ouma moved his head slightly backwards, face perpetually smug. “Little round things that produce light? They sound the same to me. Nishishi, maybe I should be the space expert instead of you!”

Momota rolled his eyes. “You’re joking, but seriously, they’re not the same at all! Firstly, stars are giant. They’re thousands of light years away, yet they’re still visible to us! That’s part of the incredible aspect I was talkin’ about. Lightbulbs aren’t even half as astonishing!”

“Lightbulbs give brightness to my room and allow me to make sure I don’t fall and accidentally shave your head at night. That’s pretty astonishing to me!”

“SHAVE MY HEAD?!” Momota sat up, making direct eye contact with Ouma. He stayed silent for a few seconds, blinking rapidly. “I’m still trying to process what the fuck you just said, but I just can’t.” Momota brushed off Ouma’s statement, shaking his head. “Regardless, lightbulbs are nothing like stars, nor are they as interesting!”

“Different opinions!” Ouma grinned, clearly reveling in Momota’s confusion.

Ignoring Ouma, he continued. “Like I said, stars are incredible because there’s really nothing else like em. They’re basically these big balls of gas that take years to eventually explode.”

“Big balls?” Ouma repeated.

Momota nodded. "Yeah! They're massive!"

Ouma began to giggle at that, only for Momota to realize seconds later what Ouma was referring to, his face flushing.

"Shut up! You know what I meant!"

"Nishishishi! Sure I did!"

Momota turned his attention back to the stars. "A-Anyway-'' He cleared his throat. “Stars are really interesting. They make up a lot of things! The human body is composed of elements that’re made from stars, did you know that?” He settled back into his position laying down, a wide grin on his face as he spoke. Ouma sat silently, letting Momota ramble.

“-of course, stars only live for 10 billion years, and only the big ones actually explode. Smaller and medium sized ones have their core collapse, which then-”

The astronaut’s enthusiasm continued as he spoke, before seemingly snapping out of it, realizing he had been the only one speaking.

“I-” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I got carried away there, I guess. You get my point though, heh.”

Not changing the blank expression he held on his face, Ouma tilted his head slightly. “Why’d you stop?”

“I figured I was boring you or somethin’.”

Ouma yawned, quite exaggeratedly. “If I was bored, I’d say so! If I haven’t stopped Momota-chan’s dumb spaceman ramblings, it’s cause I prooooobably want him to continue.”

The comment seemed to blindside Momota, the astronaut looking dumbfounded.

“What?” Ouma glanced at him from the side. “Is your caveman brain taking time to process what I said?”

“.....Yes, actually.”

“Well I’ll summ it up for you! Keep talking!”

Blinking, a smile crept it’s way up to Momota’s face, getting wider by the second as he softly chuckled. “Alright!” He looked up at the sky above them. “Well, I’ve been talkin’ about stars this whole time, and haven’t even gotten to mention constellations yet!”

“Those are like when you play connect the dots with the stars to make pictures?”

“As much as I’d like to say no, that definition isn’t totally wrong, so yes.” Momota commented. “Constellations are basically just a group of stars that astronomers named after whatever object or thing it looked like to make identification easier."

Ouma nodded, surprisingly engaged.

"Depending on where you are in the world, you see different constellations. The northern hemisphere has 36 constellations, that's where we are."

"Does Momota-chan have a favorite?"

The aforementioned man turned to face Ouma, pensive for a split second. "I do, actually!"

"Which iiiiis…?"

"Perseus! The Hero!"

"The hero, hm?"

"Yeah!" Momota beamed. "It's named after the guy from the Greek myth. He slayed Medusa, and then saved Andromeda from being sacrificed by using Medusa's head! Andromeda is also a neighboring constellation named after the figure from the myth, which is also pretty cool."

“A neighboring constellation? So they’re always together?”

“Well, more or less. Andromeda is typically below Perseus, whereas Perseus and Cassiopeia are above it. They’re visible in the late summer and in the fall, so we should actually be able to see them!”

Ouma tilted his head and looked up, squinting. “They all look the same to me.”

“That’s cause you don’t know what ya gotta look for!” Momota sat up again, moving closer to Ouma, looking in the same direction as him.

He scanned the sky for a few brief seconds, his hand brushing Ouma’s own in the grass. “Well first, we gotta find Cassiopeia, since that usually makes it easier to find Perseus. Cassiopeia is this sorta w shape, which can be found riiiiight…..there!”

Momota pointed enthusiastically at the sky, revealing there to be the constellation he was speaking about. Ouma followed his gaze, finally seeing what Momota was talking about.

“And Perseus is right there!” He lowered his finger slightly to direct attention to the constellation that sat below it. “See, you can tell cause you can see mirfak, which is Perseus’ brightest star!”

While Momota continued to talk, Ouma watched as his stupid grin got impossibly wider with each passing second. It was almost blinding. The brightest star resid on earth, he realized.

“Ouma?”

“Hm?”

“You look like you wanna say somethin’.”

“Oh! That’s just because I realized the soup I made for us is probably freezing cold by now!”

“You made soup? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“Caaaaaaause I had to listen to the spaceman talk about space, I couldn’t just drag you away!” Ouma began to stand up, offering Momota a hand as he helped him up. “I’m not so rude as to pull you away from your natural primitive habitat just so you could go have some soup! I’ll just heat it up again, I guess!”

Momota blinked, before genuinely laughing. “Alright Ouma.” He shook his head, still content. “Let’s go.”

“Lead the way!” The shorter man exclaimed, trailing behind him as they walked inside.

---

The rest of the night was surprisingly calm, in stark contrast to the prior one. The following day, Momota woke in the guest bedroom, alone. After heading to the bathroom and cleaning himself up, he walked to the kitchen, to see Ouma in there, eating an apple.

“Gooooood morning Momota-chan!”

“Mornin’ Ouma.” He sat down, waving at the man he sat opposite of. He noticed the empty bowl Ouma had presumably left out in front of him, along with some cereal and milk. “Ah, thanks.” Momota poured both of them into the bowl, beginning to eat it.

Ouma raised an eyebrow. “And who said that was for you?”

Momota looked at him. “I-” He blinked. “Well you didn’t, but I assumed-”

“Tsk, tsk!” Ouma shook his head. “Typical Momota-chan, assuming everything is for him! Of course that was mine! You stole my breakfast!” He exclaimed, pointing at him dramatically. “I’m gonna starve now!”

“You’re literally eating right now!” Momota barked.

Ouma had thrown his now fully eaten apple behind him, landing nearly perfectly in the trash bin. “Me? Eating right now? My god, Momota-chan! You’re making things up to make yourself feel better! I can’t believe you!”

Momota narrowed his eyes at him, picking up the bowl of cereal and purposely finishing it. “Keep cryin’, it’s gone!”

Ouma threw away the upset mask he wore, replacing it with a delighted one, clasping his hands together. “I’m so proud of you, Momota-chan! Able to finally finish your cereal, like the 5 year old you are!”

“Yeah, yeah! I almost regret thanking you for leaving it out for me-”

“Well don’t! You obviously did it because it’s what I deserve for being such a good host!”

Momota rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure!”

They bantered for the next few minutes, sitting down casually, only for it to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

A look was exchanged between the two, before Momota got up first before Ouma. “I’ll go answer it, I’m closer to the door anyway.”

“If you say so!”

Momota left the room, traveling through the hall and the living room to make it to the door. He adjusted himself before putting his hand on the door, hoping he looked presentable.

Twisting the handle on the door, he swung it open to see a giant man before him.

The man from the pictures.

The man who owned this farm.

The man who died.

A shriek was immediately let out, sounding far less manly than Momota would’ve liked it to be.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?”

He clutched his heart and fell on his behind, looking up at the now concerned man who stood before him. The giant was speaking, but Momota couldn’t process any of it. The color had drained from his face and he felt like he was going to pass anyway at any given moment.

“Oh Gonta! Welcome back, it was about time you did! I thought you had forgotten about me!”

“H-hello Ouma-kun!” He turned to face the shorter man that had walked in, still visibly concerned about Momota on the floor. “Did Gonta do something wrong?”

“Nah, don’t worry about him, big guy!” Ouma walked up closer to him, patting him on his back. “He’ll be fine in a few seconds!”

“YOU TOLD ME HE DIED!” Momota squwaked.

“Did I? Ohhh yeah, I did!” Ouma laughed. “Yeah, I lied!”

“WHY?!”

“Cause I noticed you were afraid of ghosts.” He beamed. “It was funny!”

Momota stared at Ouma in disbelief.

“I hate you so fuckin’ much.”

To that, Ouma cackled, turning to Gonta, who was even more confused. “Well, how was the trip? Tell me about eveeeerything you did while you were away! I had this freeloader come into the house! He’s holding me hostage, he’s so mean to me!”

Gonta blinked. “Hostage?” He put a finger on his chin and looked at Momota as the latter stood up. “Are you hurting Ouma-kun?!” The inquisitive pose he held quickly morphed into a more protective one, the anger making its way to his gentle features, completely transforming his face.

“NO, I’M NOT HOLDING HIM HOSTAGE!” Momota waved his hands frantically at Gonta, visibly nervous. “He’s lyin’!”

Gonta looked at Ouma, waiting for a reply.

The shorter man took his time giving a response, looking at his nails and yawning quite loudly. “Maybe I lied, sure!”

Gonta tilted his head. “Ouma-kun lied?”

“Nothin’ new.” Momota bristled.

The trickster made a gesture with his hands, offhandedly speaking. “Anyyyyway! Gonta, this is Momota-chan, my new bestest buddy in the whoooole world since you left me for that business trip!” He turned to Momota. “Momo-chan, this is Gonta, I told you about him!”

They shared a look, before shaking hands.

“Momota Kaito! Sorry for uh, y’know- screaming in your face. Thought you were a ghost.”

“Gonta apologizes for scaring Momota-kun. Gonta’s name is Gokuhara Gonta!”

“Alright, alright! You’ve met! Now you can stop shaking Momota-chan!”

“Shut up! I’m not shakin’!”

Ouma raised an eyebrow, then turned to Gonta, pulling him down and whispering in his ear.

“Boo.” The latter said innocently.

“FUCK!”

Ouma wiped a tear from his face, purely amused. “Ah, that’s classic.” He gave Gonta a thumbs up, the giant still somewhat lost but returning the gesture.

Momota huffed, crossing his arms. “Alright, you’ve had your fun, jackass.”

Gonta still looked relatively lost, as Ouma patted his back once more. “I’ll explain it to you later, big guy, but first!” He looked at Momota. “Tires!”

Both of them nodded, Gonta in understanding, and Momota in agreement.

“Right! Tires!”

Moving to the tires left against the wall, the trio moved as a group.

“Gonta can pick these up!” It was more of a statement rather than an offer, as the giant did so effortlessly anyway. The other two simply nodded, walking outside to where Momota’s car resid next to the road.

Momota opened his car’s trunk, digging around for the scissor car jack, pulling it out.

“So you had the car jack, but not the spare tires? Niiice, very prepared Momota-chan!”

“Shut up! I got them now anyway!” Momota adjusted his car to it, preparing it as it was lifted off the floor. He turned to Gonta, smiling. “Thanks for carrying it, Gonta. Can you give me one of them?”

“Of course!” Gonta handed Momota one of the tires he held, content as ever to help.

Momota took it, not before shooting Ouma a look. “Least someone’s nice to me.”

“I’m nice to you!” Ouma gasped. “I’m the nicest person ever! Gonta, I’m nice, aren’t I?”

Momota rolled his eyes, attending to his tires as he swapped the ones on the left side.

Gonta glanced at Ouma. “Ouma-kun is nice! Sometimes!”

“Yes, exactly!” He nodded in satisfaction before opening his eyes and turning to face him. “Wait, sometimes? You weren’t supposed to add that!”

“It is true! Ouma-kun, gentlemen do not lie! Gonta will tell the truth.”

“No wonder Ouma’s nothing like a gentleman.” Momota remarked offhandedly, gesturing for Gonta to pass him the other tire to switch sides.

Ouma watched as the two moved casually, gaping at them. “You’re both teaming up on me?!” He pouted. “I can’t believe it, I’m being bullied!”

Momota poked his head out from the other side of the car. “Good, get bullied.”

He began to produce the same tears as always, throwing himself onto Gonta’s arm. “Gonta, you’re my best friend, aren’t you? DEFEND ME!”

Gonta looked at Ouma in surprise, a bit awkwardly trying to come up with something to say. “Uh, Momota-kun! Stop being so mean to Ouma-kun!”

Momota finished replacing the tires on both sides, moving to put the jack in the trunk and close it. “I’ll stop bein’ mean to him when he stops bein’ an asshole!”

Gonta blinked as Ouma removed his face from the giant’s sleeve, sniffing as he wiped his fake tears away. “I can’t help it, I’m a gemini.”

Momota gave him the blankest look possible, looking like he was 3 seconds away from throwing Ouma across the farm.

The shorter man erupted into laughter once more, only for Momota to shake his head and for Gonta to watch on, perpetually lost.

“Anyway,” Momota began, looking between them and his car. “I figure I should go before it gets any later, I did say I wanted to leave in the mornin’.”

Gonta nodded, waving. “Goodbye Momota-kun!” He smiled. “It was nice to meet you!”

He shook hands with Gonta once more, smiling. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you too.” He turned to Ouma, ruffling his hair, much to the latter’s irritation. “Same goes for you, asshole. Even though you were annoyin’ as hell, I had fun.”

The astronaut moved, turning his car on and getting in. Ouma moved closer to the car, leaving Gonta’s side, as the giant had his attention on cleaning his glasses.

“Wait!” He coughed. “I mean, hoooold on just a second!”

Momota stared at Ouma, noting how the sun shone brightly on his features. He fiddled with something in his pocket, pulling out a small strip of ripped paper. “Here.”

He took the paper, innocently examining it. He turned it around, noting a string of numbers scribbled on it in rather messy handwriting. There was a childish doodle of Ouma next to it, leaving Momota to register what it was.

“Your phone number?”

“Maybe it is, maybe it’s the morgue!” Ouma looked off to the side, saying it joyfully. He then met Momota’s gaze. “You’d have to call it to find out.”

There was a beat of silence, the two of them staring at one another. Momota slipped the paper into his pocket, a tiny smile creeping up onto his face.

“Yeah, I will.”

With that, Ouma mirrored Momota with a smile of his own. He moved back from the car, both of their smiles getting wider by the second.

“Bye Momota-chan! I had fun!”

“Bye!”

He drove off, waving to the two that stood on the quaint farm. It seemed much livelier, he thought.

Maybe he would give Ouma a call.