Naboru's Odd Jobs

Namaki sank into the green ruin he called a sofa. He planted his feet lazily on the small table in front of him, as the saggy beast beneath him cried his springy cries. He looked at Saboru and smirked. The warm, red light of the sun setting behind Skytree, clashing with the flashing colors of the television, mercilessly highlighted Saboru's scrunched, panicked expression. His eyes fixed on the screen, as he chaotically mashed his fingers on the joypad. The glitched music of the ancient videogame— snatched from an old bum that had no idea what it was—filled the shop. Outside, the chipped red-neon sign reading “Naboru’s Odd-Jobs” rattled against the window, rhythmically accompanying the game’s soundtrack.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They didn’t move.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Go open the door,” Namaki said

”You go open it!” Saboru barked

“Rock paper scissors?”

”Rock paper scissors.”

Their hands squared against each other.

"One…two…three!"

Saboru jumped up.

”Dammit! Why do you always win?!” Saboru snarled “You are cheating!”

Namaki shot up from the sofa, as if the green mess was suddenly made of fire.

”You ALWAYS pick rock!”

A beat— then the two friends started laughing.

“It’s probably just Kim,” Namaki said while his friend headed for the door.

The knocking grew more and more insistent.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” The red haired man expertly maneuvered through the littered floor and opened the door. Saboru fell silent.

”Took you long enough. Do you even work here?” The haughty, unfamiliar voice cut through the noise of the tv. A client. Caught in a sudden panic, Namaki turned off the tv, swept the trash off the table and badly covered it with a moth-eaten blanket.

”G-good evening. Please, come on in,” Saboru said, but the staccato of the woman’s heels had already gone past him. Namaki, still trying to tidy up as best as he could, was interrupted by the commanding presence of a tall, neatly dressed and thoroughly unimpressed woman. Her tiny, pointy nose wrinkled, while her black eyes darted back and forth between the two men and the cluttered space. Namaki sprung up and wore his most saccharine smile, ”Welcome to Naboru’s odd jobs.” his foot slammed on a small button near the sofa and a yellow armchair shot up from the floor, launching trash around the space. “Please, have a seat.” The woman didn’t sit. Her narrow eyes froze on him, small mirrors that could only reflect disappointment. Namaki’s smile turned into a trembling, embarrassed curve.

“Sabo, go…go make some tea for the nice lady.”

The red haired man, an even less convincing smile stamped on his face, popped near the woman’s right shoulder

“Right away. What kind of t-“

”Let’s cut to the chase.” Her tone was final.

“I need someone to retrieve a family heirloom for me. A pendant.” She mechanically extracted a piece of paper from the big folder she was cradling like a baby made of paper and data and handed it to Namaki. A crimson jewel encased by two moving rings was elegantly drawn on the sheet. He could barely contain the urge to salivate all over the paper. Perfect hair, the cream silk blouse paired with the tailored emerald waistcoat and now echo ink—she basically reeked of money. Saboru rubbed his hands together like a greedy fly

“And whe-“

”My tenth great-grandmother had it with her during the Great Awakening,” interrupted the woman. Saboru didn’t bother to hide the annoyance forming on his face any longer.

“I’ve located it in the roots. A little outside salvagers’ territory”

Namaki’s forehead wrinkled. Such a high profile woman would have no issue directly tasking the salvagers to get her the necklace.Her sharp eyes seemed to perfectly predict what Namaki was thinking

“I have a greedy pig for a brother. If he found out that the necklace had been located, he would stop at nothing to put his sordid hands on it,”

“So you need us to get to the roots without being seen?”

”Exactly.”

“You do understand that there are no legal ways to do it, right?” Namaki questioned, already planning on hustling the reward.

”Yes.”

”And what’s in it fo-“

”Five thousand golden petals.” Saboru’s jaw fell. The rage from being interrupted yet again leaving its place to an incredulous and dreamy expression. Namaki clenched his hands together. It was too good to be true. He looked— really looked—into her eyes. Not even a flicker of hesitation. The woman, still meeting his gaze while adamantly ignoring Saboru, put two pairs of contact lenses on the cheap table.

“A thousand upfront, the rest once I have the necklace. You have 24 hours to decide. Put them on and I’ll know you are in. You’ll know where to go.” Then she turned around, her heels clacking with precision through the trash and out of the shop.

“FIVE THOUS-“

“It’s too fishy”

Saboru slammed his fist on the table and then pointed his index finger towards Namaki “What is it with people interrupting me today?! Who cares if it’s fishy! 5000 gold petals for a quick trip to the roots!”

Namaki flinched. Saboru was right, it was too much money to pass on.

”Slimy bitch,” Namaki whispered , his silver hair flickering with the orange light filtering through the window. Saboru smiled callously, like a snake eyeing its prey. Slowly he slithered around Namaki’s shoulder and softly whispered into his right ear.

“It would cover the rent for forever,”

then into his left one

“We wouldn’t have to work for aaaaages”

”Damn you both!” He stood up and grabbed the black jacket hanging on the wall.

”I need to clear my head.” The red haired man smiled victoriously as Namaki stormed out of the shop and ventured into the streets. The sun had now abandoned the sky behind the floating Republic of Skytree, and the neon paint signs illuminated the packed street like colorful fireflies gently rocked by the chilly breeze of the evening.

Namaki hunched his shoulders and began weaving through the crowd. The industrial street of Tenshu, with its metallic trussworks arching overhead like the vaults of a colossal cathedral, was buzzing with the tired workers finally clocking out of work. The tangy smell of metal mixed with sweat hit Namaki’s nose like a familiar jab as the wisteria petals fell from the metallic grid like a gentle autumn rain. The street grew wider and wider until he finally arrived at the Tenshu branch station. The Illuminated sign hummed intermittently as the timer for the next train flashed right outside the entrance. The citizens inside the hall were silently sitting, standing, fidgeting mindlessly with their fingers. Namaki knew most of them, but their faces always looked so different after a tiring day of unrewarding labour. He shuddered

“5000…” then shook his head vigorously. 

As the train's doors finally opened, Namaki sprinted in and squeezed himself between the passengers and against the large, dirty window. The doors closed before most of the people in the station could enter and the vehicle accelerated into the tunnel. As usual Namaki, squished and already sick of the ride, took in every aspect of the branches. The fossilized pieces of the old world that connected all of the floating parts of Skytree were studded with small openings that bled moonlight onto the tracks. Lamppost, curved and deformed buildings, entire families frozen in time.

“Sup ancestor,” muttered Namaki as the train shot by his favorite statue— a young woman with her hand holding an obsolete piece of pre-magic tech. She was barely sticking out from the carved surface of the tunnel, the look on her face eroded by time. As the train arrived at the Commercial District station, Namaki forced his way out of the carriage and outside the hall. The sky was lit with moving ads, signs and the little glowfish that managed to escape the shops’ lanterns. The stream of people crossing the red gate signaling the entrance of the food market were assaulted by barkers in skimpy dresses.

“Hey cutie~” a provocative woman with a fluffy, white tail wrapped around his arm

“You look like you need a drink,” then, with a mischievous smile “Maybe we both do…”

Namaki shivered, his eyes bouncing from the woman to his empty pocket. He sighed

“Maybe some other time...” 

The woman pouted for a fraction of a second, only to repeat the same routine with her next prey.

“We wouldn’t have to work for aaaages’” Saboru’s words echoed into his head as he proceeded into the street, still lustily looking back at the tailed woman. The pubs and restaurants, swarming with people, painted a crooked landscape. Namaki always thought that the curved buildings on the ground level, bent slightly towards the Main Street, looked like judging giants inviting the little humans into their perverted bellies. The smell of grilled meat, fried food and booze permeated the street, almost pulling out by force a little streak of drool from the silver haired man.

He strolled through an inconspicuous side alley and into a gravity pocket. As he stepped in, the familiar feelings of weightlessness and the lurching stomach accompanied him as he flew to a small piece of street floating right above the giant buildings below. A tiny stand occupied most of the floating piece of land, the malfunctioning sign reading “Fly Ramen” right over a stylized bowl topped with a pair of floating chopsticks. Namaki sat in front of the empty counter.

“Hey Bufo.” The short cook, dressed in a once-white jacket, turned around and away from his broths, revealing his green, elongated frog face.

“If it isn’t my least favorite customer.”

”You mean your only customer?”

The frog man smirked

”Is Sabo here too?”

”Nah, just me.”

”Good. The little shit keeps calling me Toady.”

The two men shared a grin

”The usual?”

”The usual.”

Bufo quickly assembled a bowl and served the hot ramen to him. The cloud coral broth warmed him from the inside at the rhythm of the glowfish in the lanterns trying to get out and have a nibble.

“What’s on your mind?”

”A big job..”

”Awesome!”

”It’s fishy as hell…”

Bufo put his warty hand on Namaki’s shoulder. A big smile formed on his green, wide face.

”You should take it,” 

Namaki raised an eyebrow  ”Really? Why?”

”Cause you owe me a lot of money.”

He almost choked on the noodles. “Ahem… you really have the best Ramen in town,” a couple of coughs, “So tasty,”

“You are the worst.”

Namaki laughed weakly and began to gorge on the bowl. Once finished the food,he got up and straightened his jacked.

“It was delicious, put it on my tab,”

“Fuck you, man.”

Namaki took the gravity pocket down and dove into the crowd. Still eyeing the happy dunkards stuffing themselves with booze and meat and the barkers flirting with every person they could find, he made his way to the branch station. The journey back blurred into a concoction of regret and desire, and in what felt as a much shorter time than he would have wanted, he was back at the front of his business. He inhaled deeply and opened the door. Saboru was unexpectedly active.

“Are you really cleaning?” He said with his eyebrow raised.

”Why not. We're gonna get rich soon, might as well not sleep in filth tonight.”

”What makes you so sure I’ll take the job?” 

Saboru shrugged, still cleaning the floor ”You took the “Sabo is right jacket" and went to Toady,”

“I hate you,”

”Sure you do. Wanna put the lenses on?”

”Yeah..”

Saboru dropped the broomstick and leaped to the table. The lenses were thin, transparent, weightless and almost gel-like. As soon as they put them on, they immediately wrapped to their eyeballs like an octopus. Surprised screams filled the shop, but the pain wasn’t there. The lenses felt as if they had become part of their very self.

”This is not tech,” Namaki muttered.

”Of course the bitch is blessed!” A hint of jealousy flashed across Saboru’s face

”I’ll take it as a compliment,” the voice of the woman echoed into their skulls. The pendant, its location, specifics on how to retrieve it and where to get it flashed in front of their view. And then it appeared

A thousand gold petals, deposited directly into their account.

“I expect swiftness and secrecy. I’ll be watching you.”