Erbie

"Kazuichi?" Ibuki strums the chords of her guitar in time with the name.

He looks over his shoulder, a concentrated brow etched deep into his face, and goes 'Huh?'. She knows he only does that when someone's captured his full attention, rude as it may be. It's a sound she hears a lot, that's why she knows.

"She supers on my high school until I level up."

The added scrunch of his nose makes her grin. His focus, once on the broken Huawei under his screwdriver and very meticulous hands, now circles around the nonsense from her lips. "...What was that?"

"She supers," Ibuki says it like a patient kindergarten teacher, "on my high school... until I level up."

He understands. He hates it. His groan has enough bass to make the table shake, the vibrations of which seem to add to her giggles, as though it has tickled her. She leans into the wall.

The Ultimate Mechanic refuses to meet her smile. As much as he loves it, he has a device to fix and he'd appreciate it if the day didn't end with his client yelling in his face. "I don't have time for this."

"No, no! Consider! Okay, she's supering, yeah?" He holds his breath. "But, like, on my high school. Like, right on it. Then I level up."

Glancing at her through his lashes might have been his worst mistake, because now his expectations of seeing a shit-eating grin are shattered by a poker face. He lowers his beanie, ignoring the snort he let out.

But poor Souda can't catch a break. She won't let him. The Ultimate Musician now plucks its resonance loud and clear in his face. "Now the big question is, what would you do in that situation?"

"What kinda situation is this?" He's unable to hide the amusement in his tone.

"Oh," she huffs what sounds like abandoned laughter, "you don't wanna know."

Souda retrieves it as a wheeze. He bonks the table with his fist, the phone rattling, and squeezes a swear under his breath. Offended that such stupidity has itched his funny bone, he now whirls in her direction, embrassement mixed with a fondness she so often catches when they're together. "It's not even funny!"

"I know!" She just now realises she's been giggling this entire time. Here she thought the tremors in the walls had been Owari annihilating her punching bag upstairs.

"You're so gross." He's shaking with her.

"That's what she said."

He punches the table again, everything else forgotten as their laughter laces into united cacophony that takes his workshop hostage. She slumps down, guitar slipping from her grip as her body grows weak under mirth's hand. Souda fares no better; he can sniff and wipe the tears a billion times, but the joke's blast radius had been far too large to mitigate any damage. He coughs hard somewhere between wheezes, passing them onto her. And still, their laughter remains.

"Oh my god!" Ibuki stands on weak legs once she finds some of her bearings. She sets her hands on Souda's work table for support, leaning as she gasps for her life. "Oh my god! Ibuki wants to post it on Twitter. Where's her phone?"

Souda, once air finds him again, watches her searching around like a headless chicken. "Mioda."

"Banger tweet I've got... Huh?"

The silence is much too defeating for the musician's keen ears. Her eyes watch a flushed Souda with a hand over his frantic heart, breath caught mere seconds ago, then flicker towards the undone phone on the wooden surface. Its glitter infested case, decorated by skulls and spikes meant to represent cat ears, lies a few centimetres ahead.