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“Once this is all over, why don’t we get married, Johnny?”
Why Gyro? Why did you have to go on and say that?
Johnny had only entered this stupid race on a whim–to chase the steel ball–to finally be seen not as a helpless cripple, but as a star jockey. But who could’ve known that the chase would end so soon. A man he had met not four months ago, dying right before his eyes. Johnny couldn’t help but let out a guttural scream of anguish when he saw Gyro’s limp body being gently nudged by the ocean currents. How could he just leave him? When he had sworn to love him forever–to marry him once the race was over.
Johnny remembers Gyro’s proposal so vividly. Laying under the night sky, air dry and cold, clothes sticky from sweat. In the peace of twilight, Gyro’s smooth voice interrupts. Johnny had felt his heart beating faster, his face getting unbearably hot, and a fluttering feeling blooming in his chest. Even though he had only spent three short months with Gyro, he knew that he would like to spend the rest of his life with him. Their troubles and travels had created a bond no one else could compare. Safe to say Johnny hasn't felt this kind of warm and fuzzy feelings since his mother died.
Both of them wished but knew deep inside their gut that their happiness together wouldn’t last forever.
So when the president coughed out, “I can bring him back.” Johnny considered it, he really did. He could let America corrupt and rot, give the corpse of Jesus himself to the power hungry president of the ‘great’ country of America, just to get back the love of his miserable short life.
But would Gyro have wanted this? To let his sacrifice be in vain? For Johnny to give in to his selfish desire and the flimsy promise made when they were sleeping under the stars? It wouldn’t even be Gryo…his Gyro. But just having to see his face, his stupid laugh, his goofy jokes, his strong determination to save a little boy he had only met once, is enough right?
“I’m a man of my word.” Funny Valentine waited impatiently for an answer as his body twisted and spiraled painfully into circular shapes, “You could be with him if you would just give me the corpse!”
Is he really going to do this? Johnny lifted a finger, the nail emitting a faint blue light as it spun rapidly. His eyes welled up with tears, his painted blue lips quivered. He aimed at the man on the dirt ground with trembling hands.
Valentine coaxed further, his sweet, sugar coated words reluctantly beginning to sooth Johnny.
“Gyro wouldn’t even notice. It’ll be quick. You can bring him back, and all you have to do is shoot me with The Spin!” He continued.
Johnny flinched. He glimpsed at the place holder silver alloy band on his ring finger. It could be a real ring…a wedding ring. Like the one Gyro had promised him he’ll get in Italy specially made just for him.
“…Fuck you.” Johnny shot the nail bullet after a hesitant pause—the projectile ripping through Valentine’s flesh and crushing the skull. Blood splattered on the nearby patchy grass. Accompanied with an uncomfortable thud, Funny Valentine’s body fell, red stained blonde hair hitting the ground.
—-
“Oh sir! May I ask what’s in that box?” A man with a clipboard in hand, no taller than 5 feet approached Johnny.
“…This boat is going to Europe, right?” Johnny asked, a wooden crate tied with rope dragging behind him.
“Mm yes. But depending on what’s in the crate, I can or cannot permit you on.” He flipped through the sheets of paper, seemingly trying to find something within them. Johnny looked over his shoulder then back at the little man.
”It’s the corpse of my friend,” Johnny muttered, “I’m bringing him back to his homeland.”
“Then I’m sorry, you can’t bring a corpse with you due to the boat regulations. I suggest you cremate your friend so you can bring his ashes onboard or you’re going to have to bury him in this country.” His eyes sharpened, pencil tapping on the paper.
“I see…I tell you what—get me authorization to bring him onboard. I will be taking him back to his native country no matter what it takes. If you want a bribe, I’ll pay.”
“Hey! Come here, everyone! Get the crate off by brute force!” By then, multiple people came charging towards Johnny, all of them somehow identical to the one who greeted Johnny on the dock. But Johnny easily dodges, the box and his own body suddenly rotating, propelling everyone else off.
“What are you trying to do…? I told you, there’s no way I’m taking this off the boat, Nyoho,” Johnny said smugly, the green steel ball in his hand tapping against the wooden crate, “Guess you’ve got no choice but to bug off.”
”And if necessary, you go get authorization. Got it? We don’t have any problem here, right?” With that, Johnny stepped onto the boat with Gyro’s corpse and left the little man bewildered.
Johnny soon meets up with a man in purple at the deck of the boat.
”What took you so long? Is that a coffin on your back?” The taller man asked, beach blonde hair swaying in the sea breeze.
“...yeah” Johnny answered without facing him.
“Shit, is there actually a corpse in it?” He laughed half heartedly.
“No. Just a box I just so happen to start carrying around with me.” Johnny turned towards him, flashing a weak smile. What a pathetic and useless lie, surely he’ll figure it out… on second thought, he never was that socially bright. Whatever, Johnny didn’t accept his proposal for his ability to tell tone.
Johnny took in the vast horizon of azure blue and fluffy white clouds he wished he could just lay his weary head on. He smelled the salty scent on the deck of the boat, wind running through his shoulder length hair. Both men leaned against the railing, stabilizing themselves from the rocking.
“We’ll be arriving in Italy soon. How do you think my father would react when he sees us together?”
He took Johnny’s hand in his, the warmth doing little comfort. He squeezed his hands tight, the wedding band on his finger digging into Johnny’s skin.
“Johnny.”
“Yes…Gyro?”
“I love you.”
“…I love ‘you’ too.”
——
As the boat pulled up to the dock and the two finally set foot on Italian soil, a little boy with eyes pure as day ran up to ‘Gyro’ and tightly grabbed onto his pants leg. With snot running down his philtrum wiped onto his pants, he cried. The boy, Marco, couldn’t even form his thoughts into words and only allowed ‘Gyro’ to gently pat his head.
Johnny’s lips pulled into a heartfelt smile. Just imagine how he would feel if it really was Gyro who saved the boy. But that would never happen. He’s dead and if they had known that, the boy would’ve been executed long before they arrived in Italy. Johnny now feels a melange of guilt and pity for the boy and Gyro’s family.
”Gyro…” Gyro's father, Gregorio, suddenly walks up to the three, his face unreadable. The rest of his family waved and cheered behind him.
“Father…” Is this the usual Zeppeli greeting? Devoid of emotion? Johnny would’ve thought Gyro’s father would at least be silly as he is but he guesses he takes after his mother more.
Marco finally pulls off ‘Gyro’’s leg and steps back to allow him to receive Gregorio’s greeting—all while sniffling and wiping even more snot with the back of his hand.
“Congratulations, son,” Gregorio said as he smiled stiffly, as if it was the first time he smiled in a long time. He stuck out a hand to give his son a firm handshake before noticing a ring on his finger.
“Wh-“
Just then, Gyro’s younger siblings came running over, almost toppling ‘Gyro’ down as they screamed and laughed. A mix of Italian words Johnny doesn’t understand and shrieks were attempted to be quiet down by Gyro’s mother.
Johnny and Gyro had promised each other that Gyro would finish first and Johnny would finish second in the race. And lo and behold, they kept the promise—or sort of. Gyro’s name is the first to make it past the finish line, not ‘Gyro’.
Johnny really had to give it to Valentine, his seamless transition to pull ‘Gyro’ from his universe to theirs had convinced everyone that he was real. Getting killed was the perfect set up for an unconscious ‘Gyro’ to be put into another universe without any of the parties noticing. Just a bit of gaslighting and convincing, and he fits right in.
The only one who could possibly know about this would be Valentine and Johnny themselves. If anyone else were to come across the truth, Johnny would have to take matters into his own hands… Not that anyone was to somehow find out about this.