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Jun shook his head and shrugged at the same time, still not turning around. “Just working on cars.”

Alex clenched his fists, trying not to punch something. This conversation was going nowhere. Used to talking his way through anything, Alex couldn’t do it with a wall. It infuriated him that this was what Jun had succumbed to, even if this mechanic lifestyle was better than being a recluse staring at screens all day.

Alex’s fingers gently brushed the seams of his pockets. He took out the stock paper postcard and slammed it on the workbench, under Jun’s nose.

Jun didn’t budge. Sliding the paper closer, he jammed a finger under the word “Memory.” He brought his mouth close to Jun’s ear and articulated every sneering word. “Next Wednesday. Two o’clock. Paragon office. Be there, or else I’ll drag your ass there myself.”

Marching towards the door, Alex called out, refusing to look back, “You can tell Hal if you’re in or out by the way! You got until tomorrow morning, or I’m gonna make Matt do it!”

Against his better judgement, Alex turned back. Jun hadn’t moved. His eyes were fixed on the invitation, and something about that stillness made Alex’s chest burn.

Alex slammed the door behind him. The sound cracked through the night air, and he didn’t look back.

3

Nightcrawl

“In Loving Memory of Ritsuki Ayase. December 27th, 1990 – September 19th, 2013. We invite you to join us in remembering—”

Jun diverted his eyes away to the oil-stained concrete floor.

Reading his full name was enough to bring back the heavy tightness in his chest. It had been so long since anyone outside his own head had said that name. Jun had spent the last month trying to bury the memory of the mall. Reading it in full threatened to dig it all back up.

He thought anxiety and panic would set in the moment he saw Alex. It had been a while since they talked, and it should have gone better than that. Jun wasn’t sure why he didn’t react accordingly. Perhaps he just didn’t have the mental energy to ask Alex questions back. In fact, he hadn’t had the energy to seek out any answers since the incident. Working at the garage had been the distraction he needed. He preferred this life: doing what he was told as diligently as possible without question.

But curiosity always snuck back in the cruelest of ways. Jun glazed his eyes carefully back at the invitation again.

“In Loving Memory of Ritsuki Ayase—”

He crumbled it up, hoping it would disappear. When he loosened his grip, the paper expanded. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to remember him. He just wasn’t prepared.

“Yo!”

Jun turned around, hiding the paper behind his back.

“Ya done with the Civic yet?” Hal asked.

“Yeah, just gotta double-check the calibration. It should be good by morning.”

Hal whistled, checking out the car. “Damn son, you work faster than me when I was your age.” He chuckled awkwardly when he turned back to Jun. “Speaking of, ya gonna make the decision now or wanna wait till morning?”

“About?” Jun asked slowly.

“About the job.” Hal raised a hand as if Jun was going to protest. He wasn’t going to say anything anyway. “Listen, if it’s too much, you can let me know, but take the night to think about it.”

“Why me though? All I do is fix the cars.”

Hal nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in agreement. “True. True. But you see, man, Augs and I might attract the wrong attention around here. Too many people know our faces. But you? You’re a nobody. A luxury we just don’t have no more.”

“A nobody…” Jun’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure how being called nothing could be a compliment, but it sounded like one.

“Hey. I’d rather be a nobody than be a somebody who left behind an unwanted trail of crumbs. Trust me, bro, you’re the perfect guy for this job.”

“Not Matt?”

Hal scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Nah.” He glanced behind his shoulders, then bent closer to Jun, voice low. “He ain’t a nobody. He got more motherfuckers on him than me.” He swatted his hand away as if he was brushing off the idea of Matt’s existence.

“But anyway, don’t worry about him. Just let me know if you’re down or not. Otherwise, we’ll wing it or something. But trust me”—he cupped the edge of his mouth with a hand—“you’re the best option.”