Blink and you'll miss it (but do you miss me?)

by Cheese_muncher34

Summary:

The sharp ringing of a telephone.

Under the harsh yellow lighting in the dingy apartment, it cut through the otherwise dead silence.

The flickering of a screen.
Blink, and you’ll miss it.

Notes:

Ik this is gonna get like no views because i swear NO ONE has seen this movie LET ALONE read fics of it, but if you are reading this i actually love u, u have good taste in movies and i hope you enjoy :)

Obviously this is based on the opening scenes of Kairo, if i don't get bored i might write further who knows tbh

Chapter 1: Leave the world behind

Summary:

August 27. 1998. A small fishing boat is the only thing that remains.

8:04 AM.

 

The blinking of a ship radar.

 

“Change course direction, 120 degrees.”

The windows were fogged up, bathing the control room in dull light. The cold air bit hard. Machines chirped and whirred, crew members running back and forth, clamouring slightly. The captain had been restless ever since they left. They all had, really. Who wouldn’t be? No one even knew what was going on, and the fear left them dangerously on edge. If any of them had the courage to speak their mind, they’d say it didn’t feel quite real yet.

“Roger that, hard to port. You hear that, everyone? Hard to port."

The captain’s subordinate hurried to the navigation screens as some of the other crew members prepared for the adjustment in direction. The captain let out a ragged sigh and rose to his feet, which prompted a worried exchange of glances from the crew.

“I need more information. Take care of it, will you?”
The captain spoke softly, but the others could sense an urgency in his tone. Wordlessly, he pulled his waterproof on and fumbled at the hatch with his cold, numb hands. Arms straining with effort, he heaved the control room door open.

 

Rain lashed at his face as the man stumbled out, clawing at him like some invisible force, restless and untiring. The heavy hatch swung shut behind him, groaning in protest. He leaned against the slick, wet railings for support as the ship dipped and swayed under him, the ground now not even trustworthy to keep them afloat. His footsteps were drowned out by the overwhelming roar of the ocean and the slicing of the downpour through the heavy humid air. It sliced at his skin, too. Just as the cold sank its teeth into him and never let go, ever since they left the port a week ago. His eyelids hung heavy, undersides of his eyes blotched with a dark purple, marking his weakness on his face.

 

The girl on the other side of the deck heard him coming, yet she didn’t turn to address the captain. Staring at the ocean below, just like yesterday. And the day before, and the day before, and the day before.

He wasn’t surprised really. Sometimes there was a man beside her; he looked about her age. Maybe a little younger. They didn't talk much, they just gazed into the distance. He wasn’t here this morning anyway; must still be asleep. Or just resting below deck.

The captain was worried about them. He really was. But he wasn’t here to console her. His guilt for not caring enough wormed into him, but he didn’t have time to try to understand how they were feeling. Maybe later. But the crew demanded answers from him, and he too had grown curious when the radio signal abruptly cut off from Tokyo. And then from everywhere else.

Since they had been rescued by the ship’s crew, the young lady and man from Tokyo had only ever spoken to each other, sparing a quick and grateful ‘thank you’ to the captain and his crew for their rescue. Despite their silence and unwillingness to utter even a word, it was painfully obvious that the pair had experienced what happened in Tokyo first-hand. Rumours aboard the ship spread, and the two didn't even seem to notice. Or care. They just watched the empty horizon from the top deck of the ship. Day, after day, after day.

It was worth a try, wasn’t it? An answer was all he needed. An explanation.

He ambled towards her, boots scraping against the corroded metal floor. The tang of rusted metal mingled with the seawater that plastered his tangled dark hair to his forehead as gusts of wind pulled at the salty strands just as it did to her hair, flailing in tufts, spiked outwards by the sea spray that was spitting out at her like a tame cat turned savage.

Tentatively, the captain reached out and placed a calloused hand on her shoulder.

“Miss, please. I know you don’t want to talk- ”

She didn’t turn. Wind still thrashing the strands of hair that weren’t caked to her neck, her back to him as he enquired, insisting. Desperate even.

“I can’t even imagine what happened to you. And your friend. But we need information, please- ”

“…”

The captain’s free hand shook, and he saw hers tighten on the railing, probably just as frozen solid as his. He took another timid step forward and withdrew his other hand from her shoulder. His voice broke slightly from frustration, but starved for answers, he pressed on.

“… Please, -”

The silence hung heavier than the storm clouds above, thicker than the murky ocean lapping at the ship’s hull.

“Just tell me what happened in Tokyo- ”

 

… “And what would you like to know?”

 

His breath caught in his throat, heart almost coming to a stop, seized by something else, that wasn’t quite fear, or determination, or curiosity, but rather a mixture of the three. Her soft voice was barely audible in the growling storm, yet she spoke with a clarity which was weighed down with obvious guilt. This was it; this was what they needed to know.

 

"..."

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

She sighed and wiped the seafoam off her face, her back still to the captain as she spoke into the salty wind.

“Okay.”

“…”

 

“It all began one day, without warning,-”

 

They stood, her back still turned, battered by rain, atop the deck of the ship, turning in the seething ocean as they left the world behind.

 

“Like this.”

Notes:

twas a short chapter im sorry my gang
ill get back to work next chapter i promise
-or maybe the chapter after that i dont even know ;)

Chapter 2: The beginning of the end

Summary:

With the lights off, lurking in a grimy back bedroom, is where it all started really. It's a shame no one realised until it was too late.

The sharp ringing of a telephone.

Under the harsh yellow lighting in the dingy apartment, it cut through the otherwise dead silence.

His shelves a mess, stacked up with boxy computer monitors, piles of books and a single, withering potted plant.
His bedsheets were overturned and ruffled, spread unevenly. They were a little dusty and clearly hadn’t been changed in a while. The low hum of old electronics lingered in the air, mingling with the musty scent of stale air, damp carpets, and disuse. Light spilled feebly from a single bulb hanging overhead, in a soft orange glow, casting gaunt, distorted shadows across the room. A half-finished bottle of some kind of drink still lay discarded on the floor next to a precariously placed stack of mismatched DVDs, some still in their cases, others abandoned, strewn in heaps. A few thick, black flecks on the carpet, leeching into the fabric below and staining it.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A clear curtain separating that room and the next hung still on it’s railing, a translucent dark shadow spattered across the cheap plastic sheet.

Across his desk, a jumbled mess of yellowing papers. Notes taken in neat, small handwriting, contrasting to the disorganisation and sheer mess of the rest of the room. Another monitor in the centre, tucked behind more papers, and a keyboard that- wasn't surprisingly- also collecting dust.

The phone chimed, on and on, but there was nobody to answer. Piercing the silent air, which hung heavy and still. Clouded with dust, the dark mirrored surface of the monitor whirred to life, and as if a call from hell itself, the visual silence of the room was broken.

The flickering of a screen.
Blink, and you’ll miss it.

Notes:

Ik this was another short one but the next one will be super long
enjoy :)

Chapter 3: 28 missed calls and 3 voicemails

Summary:

"The person you are trying to reach right now is unavailable. Please hang up, or try your call again later.

 

 

July 22nd, 1998.

A hot summer's evening. The searing golden sun lay on it's back, sleeping just below the city horizon, spilling it's last weak rays of warm, lazy sunshine onto the city rooftops. The bustling of the crowded streets was muted up on the 13th floor rooftop, but the low clamour of city life was still ever-present, echoing up from the sunlit concrete maze below.

 

 

 

"The person you are trying to reach right now is unavailable. Please hang up, or try your call again later."

The cool breeze sweeping lazily through the open greenhouse windows, among the leaves in the small gardening shop was always pleasant in the evenings. The rest of downtown Tokyo was usually just a bit on the warm side, and it was refreshing to spend time in the tiny rooftop store. The sound of the wind chimes was always welcome in the bleak, concrete jungle, a gentle reminder to enjoy the little things in life.

Just another reason Michi Kudo loved working there. She had never been all too ambitious, and found comfort in the peaceful, small shop. She liked her colleagues, Had plenty of free time, and although it didn't pay too well, she had been saving most of it for a while, and she couldn't wait to finally buy her own apartment. Although the homely environment of living in her childhood home with her mother would be missed, Michi dreamed and dreamed about having a place to call her own. 

 

"Still no answer at Taguchi's, Junko?" 

 

Junko groaned and put the phone down, turning round to look up at her friend with her brows slightly furrowed, and an onset of concern setting into her usually bright expression.

 

"No... Oh Michi, It's been a week, and I'm really starting to worry now. No one takes a week to process just one disk, especially not our Taguchi, he's a genius at those kinds of things. Oh, I hope he's okay.."

 

"Don't worry, Junko."

Michi gently placed a hand on her best friend's shoulder, and smiled down at her reassuringly, .

 

"You know Taguchi. If he's taken a whole week, he probably has his reasons, you know? Maybe the disk broke, and he needed to get a new one, or something?.."

She sighed condescendingly, rolling her eyes at the thought of their forgetful co-worker having lost the disk by accident.

"He's hard working, and god, he's a lot smarter than me, but he sure knows how to make a problem so much more complicated than it needs to be. He usually has a spotless record though, and he's definitely Boss' favourite employee from the sheer amount of work he gets done. So I do wonder what's holding him up this time. Imagine if he lost it, Oh, he'd never hear the end of it- Oh my god, just imagine-"

"Something's wrong."

Michi laughed dryly, her attempts to cheer her friend up in vain though, and all she felt was a creeping feeling of unease that she couldn't quite swallow.

"Don't be silly, Junko. He'll be alright. You want me to go see if he's okay when we get off work?"

 

Junko's gaze fell past the plants she was supposed to be tending to, gaze almost vacant.

 

"I just got the creeps..."

 

"What?"

 

Michi would be lying if she said her childhood friend's panic didn't worry her too. Junko turned to the other girl, and hurried back toward her, arms wrapped around herself like a child. It was unlike the smaller, brown-haired girl to whine, Junko was always pretty unbothered with whatever went on around them. And here she was, hands gripping at her sides, head tilted down and voice raised; If anything she sounded distraught. Desperate even.

"I don't know, I just feel like something's wrong!-"

 

"Horribly wrong..."

 

 

And there it was again.

 

The pit in her stomach.

 

The awful feeling that something- well- awful, is going to happen.

 

-------------

 

Rain pattered softly, spitting at the glass of the roof and windows. The sun had soon hidden away, painting the sky a deep blue-purple, even the moon to afraid to show her face. An air of hazy twilight fell across the store, and the store was beginning to dim.

The door swung open on it's hinges, and in hurried a tall, broad-shouldered young man, rainwater dripping from the spiked brunet hair plastered to his tanned face, his mouth turned into a comical grimace. He pushed the door closed with an amused huff and plopped down onto the nearest chair, sighing in a half-hearted chuckle.

"Eugh- so fucking rainy out there- just look at me! I'm soaked-"

 

"Yabe!"

Junko got up to greet the man, pacing around his chair and fiddling with one of the hair ties keeping her spiky pigtails secure, picking out strands of hair one by one, distressed.

 

"So what's up with Taguchi? Any news yet?" He chuckled, stretching out his legs and tugging off his sodden coat.

 

"I don't know.. Neither of us have been able to get hold of him at all- It wouldn't even let us leave a voicemail."

 

"FUCK! When I get my hands on that little prick I'll teach him a lesson- we're gonna have to take the blame if he never shows with that disk, it was company property after all- and since when does  Taguchi even do this! I swear he's like.. usually meticulous at this stuff!"

 

"Stop shouting Yabe. And wow, 'meticulous'? I didn't even know you had words like that in your vocabulary."

 

"Shut up, Michi."

 

"Aaanywayyyy, Junko's a bit worried about Taguchi. If I've got to be honest, I am too, a little. Just a little. Would you do us a huge favour and go over to his apartment to check on him? And maybe even grab the finished disk while you're there? That'd be so great-"

Both girls looked up at Yabe with pleading expressions, and took a little glance at each other, almost snickering. They knew Yabe could never resist saying no to his friends, and plus, it was only a short visit. 

 

"Nah. You can do it Michi, you lazy bitch. You really scared for Taguchi but can't even be bothered to get your slow ass on a half an hour detour to his neighbourhood?" 

He playfully clapped her round the shoulder and she rolled her eyes at him as he chuckled again lightly.

 

"I'm waay too tired tonight for that shit. Just this once, you can survive without making poor little me do all your errands. Tell me alllll about how terrifying it was when you get back to work tomorrow, though! I bet you'll find ghosts, aliens, vampires, the whole lot! Ooooooh, how scary! Big bad Michi will have to be brave, like she aaalways does~"

He grabbed her ear and gave it a tug as he mocked his friend, finding himself way too funny. The black-haired girl bristled and swatted him away.

 

"Fine, I'll do it myself. Don't worry Junko, I'll make sure Taguchi is fine. And go kill yourself, Yabe. I better get going then."

Michi stuck her tongue out in his direction before quickly dodging into the doorway, ducking away from a metal spoon that came flying her way.

 

"OUGH- HOW DARE YOU! That could have hurt!! Aim better next time, idiot!"

 

And with that, she ducked into the stairwell, and hurried down the stale, echoing corridor and down the stairs, out of the building.

 

-----------

 

It's odd, really. 

 

When her friends are around, Michi forgets all about anything troubling her. Is it because she loves them so dearly? Or just because she's easily distractable. Maybe a bit of both.

 

One foot in front of the other. Calm. Be calm. All she's doing is checking on Taguchi after all. 

 

So how has her good mood dissolved in the storm again? 

 

 

Well, she never really liked the rain anyway.

 

 

-------

 

The bus ride to Taguchi's district dragged on. The dingy interior kept her mind on edge. Shadows stretched, morphed, reached for her face. But nothing was really there, remember? 

 

Her black, polished shoes clacked on the concrete when she finally stepped off, slinging her bag over her shoulder and gritting her teeth as she gazed up at the sheer concrete block thrust out into the street. It loomed over her, blotched grey walls, soulless plastic railings, It's eerie silence howling into the night, the violet haze hanging over the horizon now replaced with a big black ink, gaping over the wide sky, moon and stars already swallowed greedily by the great, still night.

 

Dread. An overwhelming sense of dread.

 

That's really all Michi felt, as she headed down the dingy dark corridor to her missing colleague's apartment. 

Well, technically not missing yet. But if he wasn't home, she knew it would be time to make the report.

 

Woah, let's not think like that. He's fine. He's fine-

 

The lights were dimmed, and one bulb on the left struggled, flicking on, and off, and on, ominously, while the others spilled a thin, jaundiced glow down into the blackness further on. Dark patches of mould were creeping slowly up the walls, in the neglected corners, and between the cracks and tears in the peeling, yellowing wallpaper which was flayed half off the bare concrete. A weed sprung from a crack in the dusty floorboards, dirt surging up through it, spotted with the odd patch of sickly moss. The rickety doorframes sunk into the walls on each side were blistered with neglect, and shrouded in shadow, the door labelled 011 hid in a shaded space on the right side.

 

It was a shame, really. The fact that she was afraid. Not for herself, of course, but for Taguchi. A thought crossed her mind, leering and taunting at her like the invisible hands that briefly squeezed at her exposed throat. Made her heart knock against her ribs like the rapid struggle of a scared rabbit.

 

What if he ran away?

 

Would he really leave without telling them? Oh god, oh please no- what if he got hurt? Being the youngest of the group, He couldn't even afford to leave right now. He was studying computer science, he's going for bigger and better right? Or maybe he just moved jobs, and he was too scared to tell us? Hell, Michi wouldn't like that either, but at least it's better than other possibilities.

He'd been such a good friend to her, and although they were only co-workers she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for what happened to him. Friends are supposed to look after each other.

 

Stop worrying, god damn it! It's not even that serious- He's gonna be fine. She was just overreacting, that was it. Didn't she just tell Junko less than an hour ago that he'd be absolutely fine? 

He is fine, isn't he?

 

One foot after the other. Hand reached out to the pale, weathered wood of the door. Knuckles almost brushing the scratchy rough surface.

She could just go home.

No, she was way too concerned now.

 

Didn't her mother always tell her she had nerves of steel?

Seemed meaningless then, seems meaningless now.

 

She did it anyway.

Reached out and knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Again and again.

 

Nothing.

 

...

 

Nothing? Nothing?

Her heart sank into her stomach. A sickening feeling, almost. The rapid thrumming of her heartbeat was the one doing the knocking now, against her ribs. Violent palpitations, like a trapped bird flapping it's wings inside her. Short, pronounced jabs in her chest, making the whole thing seem ever more final. 

He must just be at the shop. Or out. Somewhere, he's just gone out.

Michi knows it's not true. 

 

Water begins to well in the crack in the ceiling, a few small drops collecting on the roof.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

 

He's not fine. Taguchi is missing.

 

Drip. Drip. Drip. Trickling down the wall now, in a small stream. Pooling by her feet, taunting. 

 

You're panicking over nothing, Michi.

 

She crumpled against the wall, clutching her sides, fingers digging into her pale skin slightly. The knocking in her ribs faster now. The water spilled out of more cracks in the walls, rushing over her legs. Filling up the room, climbing up to her neck. A familiar kind of panic, flooding up her senses. The pit inside her deepening, heart in her stomach, the worry starting to eat into her. It's hands slowly traced across her throat, gripping her neck in an unfamiliar, cold vice. 

Her panic spiked, breathing fast and heavy. Water burst in from all around, cascading over her head. No, no, nononono-

breath short. Lungs burning. Pupils dilated.

 

Click.

 

The door latch flipped over with a metallic clunk, and the splintering, old door swung open, a skinny, brown-haired young man calmly stepping out.

 

Her wide eyes snapped to him in an instant.

 

And in an instant, the water all drained away.

Hands unclenched her neck.

Her gaze softened.

 

"Taguchi.."

 

Her breath caught in her throat, sweat still plastering short black tufts of hair to her face, legs shaking, she looked like an utter wreck.

 

"Hey- what are you doing out here? Huh? Come on in-" The man smiled evenly. He awkwardly ducked backwards as the still trembling girl tried to give him a hug, and backed away a little as she stepped into his dusty yellowing apartment, keeping his distance.

 

"What were you doing just now?- All curled up and shaken- what happened, huh?" He prodded, tilting his head a little to one side- In something that vaguely resembled a muted curiosity? Michi couldn't quite tell, she had always been able to read her dear friend like a book, so she wondered what was making him act off. He seemed very closed off today, and there was something about his eyes, as if the light in them had died in the week he'd been gone, like a candle put out in stale air. 

Michi chalked it up to her being shaken, she really thought she'd lost him; after all. After her panic just minutes before, everything still seemed extremely off. Weird. Repulsive even. 

Her breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to choke a string of breathless words out, tumbling into a half hearted scolding for worrying her so much.

 

"I-I- Oh, Taguchi, we've been so worried about you!- You don't understand! I'm just so glad you're alright! Who do you think you are? Taking a whole week off without so much as telling any of us! We're your friends, did you not stop to think about how anyone would have reacted? You could have left a note, told us in advance- or at the very least replied to our calls! You got me worried sick back then! When I knocked on your door and nobody answered, I thought something awful would have happened to you! I know it's irrational, but please don't scare us like that-!"

He stopped and turned around to look at her blankly.

 

"Oh. That's what had you all shaking and crying? Plus, the door was always open, silly-"

 

She paused.

 

"It was?"

 

"Yeah. Can you do me a favour and close it for me? A draught is coming in, and it's getting a bit cold."

 

"Cold? It's July?- You know what, forget it. Sure."

 

She stepped across the damp carpet, and gently pushed his door shut, turning the hinge, which was rusted with disuse. So rusted, in fact, that it took her a couple tries, straining, until it finally crunched into place, spitting a feeble amount of reddish rust powder into her hand.

 

"Thanks. And really, are you sure you're okay? You're still sweating, you know."

Michi looked down at her damp tank top, blotched with her own sweat. It was so stupid, really. The first time she'd ever panicked like that, as well. Over absolutely nothing. A friend who, contrary to the belief of literally everyone else, was just sitting around in his apartment.

 

"Oh.. Uh- yeah, I'm fine." She lied. "I was just a little panicked, that's all. Just a bad day, really. I'm not sure why, but everything just feels a whole lot worse right now."

 

"Makes sense. You've always been a bit of a worrier."

 

"Oh Taguchi, stop it- you've offended me- you know I never worry."

 

He straightened himself a bit. "Yeah- you're right. Um. I was just messing with you-"

 

She kept going. "And have you finished working on that disk yet? What the hell even took you so long? You're not even lazy like Yabe, So this isn't like you. The boss is going to be so pissed if you don't hand it in tomorrow; just you wait. He does like you, though. So maybe he'll let you off the hook with a slap on the wrist and a warning. Please tell me you actually finished it-"

 

"Oh. Yeah. I did. It's in a pile, might be in here or the other room. It'll be lying around in one of the stacks somewhere, you can go grab it."

 

"Ugh. In a pile? I swear you used to be organised. How am I supposed to find this one?"

 

He dryly chuckled at the disdainful look on Michi's face. 

"It's green, and it has the shop logo on it.

 

"Ooookayyyyyyy, Mr. Specific." She sighed, frustrated. "Also, clean your room, it stinks. I know you're poor, but so are all of us, and nobody's too poor to give their apartment a little tidy and scrub every few months, at least. It's like you're living in one massive bin. And if you say something like 'ohh I'm too depressed to clean' , that's just sad."

Michi bent down and began to sift through the piles of mismatched DVDs and CDs. She stopped at his house phone, smearing off a thick later of dust to see.

 

28 missed calls, 3 voicemails.

 

So he didn't even check his phone huh? Certainly not like the Taguchi she knows.

 

"Eugh- seriously, it's all dusty in here. And you need to tidy away all this junk. Jeez, and clean your bedsheets, scrub the walls even, it looks like someone straight up died in here- I hope if I could do at least one thing right as a friend, It can be to motivate your lazy ass to tidy. You're not usually lazy as well. Last time I came over it was almost spotless, though that was a while ago. What happened?"

She started rummaging through another heap of disks stacked next to his computer monitor>

"Not in a talking mood, huh? Don't worry, I can talk enough for the both of us."

Whenever Taguchi was in a quiet mood, which was a lot, Michi always talked to him anyway. Talked at him, more like. She knew the usually more timid young man liked to listen, and usually, his silence oddly comforted her.

"So I really wonder what you've been up to, you know. Maybe when you come back to work tomorrow, you'll tell me? I'm sure I'll understand, whatever it is. And it's never too late to ask for help, you know." She spoke matter-of-factly. 

 

Silence.

 

Bordering on uncomfortable, actually. It hung heavy in the air. So quiet in fact she could hear the soft roaring of night time from outside this coffin made of concrete.

Has a week made that much difference? All of a sudden Taguchi acts and feels like a stranger, to the point where even their shared silence feels like an uncomfortable invasion of privacy.

 

She shook her head.

 

"Disk's not here, I bet it's in the other room. Just hold on, I'll be right back."

 

Michi traced her fingers along the tough, stained plastic of the clear curtain between this room and the next. 

Well, it would be clear if not for the fact it was yellowed and stained. Black, almost slimy substance had left it's mark, hanging onto the other side of the plastic sheet, spattered in misshapen flecks, as well as the large, hanging shadow of the main spillage, whatever it was. Ew.

She pulled back the curtain, rustling as it shrank back along the railing, and-

 

Stopped.

Dead.

 

Eyes darkened, a blank, dead stare. Hand clutched at the rubbery plastic of the curtain as she stepped back. And again. Staggered and fell back into a pile or rancid old DVD boxes; pulling the entire sheet of curtain off the railing down with her. Pulling it over herself in an almost protective motion, terrified eyes peeking from below. Breath short. Violently shaking, her hands shifted to cover her trembling body even more underneath the sheet. Daring to peek out, again.

 

Drip.

Drip.

 

The rotten, Mangled body of a skinny, brown-haired boy. It was leaned, propped up, sitting against the back wall in a stunted kind of way, a rough, stained noose closed around a thin, snapped neck. Gaunt, loose, thin skin stretching over bone. His lower half was eaten away, corroded with foul smelling, oozing black sludge, dripping from his glistening, blackening insides and soaked into the noose cutting long gone breath away. The stench rolled over Michi, nauseating. Rotting flesh, burning plastic and glue. Arms bent at unnatural angles, jaw pried open, docile eyes closed, sunken into their sockets. Stretched neck drooling bubbled black acid down greyish skin. Pooling into the carpet, dripping periodically from the corner of the chin.

 

Taguchi; seeping into his own damp carpet. Long dead, by the looks of him. It didn't even look like him, anymore.

 

And as the invisible hands began to tighten around her throat once more, as breathing sped up and vision went narrower, Michi had a sick, twisting, visceral feeling in her gut. An awful realisation.

 

Oh, They never could have saved poor Taguchi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Yeahhhh I know I tweaked the dialogue of these scenes quite a bit but I wanted to add more personality to the different characters because the movie never really explores it as much
And sorry this one took me ages and its lowkey ass but I hope that the literal 3 people who read this fic like it because it took me FOREVER.

I love Taguchi bro did NOT deserve this.