IshiMondo Collection

‣ because you believed

NOTE: i'm used to using last names for most of these characters, but to maintain some kind
of consistency the narrator refers to them by first names and characters call each other different
things depending on their preference. also, the phrases all in italics are coming from the tv. this fic can
be standalone (just know that ishimondo was established in their second year of high school, when
they were sixteen), but i also like to imagine it as a follow up to about him + a moment of honesty.

————

"No, dudes and dudettes— I swear, it was really a UFO!"

"Calm down, Hagakure-kun! There's no such thing!"

Makoto, as the resident peacemaker, was doing his best to calm the fortune teller, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. He could hear Celes and Byakuya giggling at his misfortune somewhere nearby, probably over cups of tea.

Yasuhiro waved his arms about wildly, occasionally clasping them over his head as if in prayer. No one could imagine what it was he praying to, and he'd never bothered to explain. Apparently the only few gods he had named had been from various anime and manga, or at least that's what Hifumi had said.

His flailing had gotten somewhat out of control, and he smacked into Aoi and nearly knocked her over. She managed to keep herself upright, but her beverage was knocked out of her hand and it spilled onto the carpet. At this, everyone gathered in Mondo's kitchen and living room could feel Sakura's glare, and stepped out of her way to allow her easier access to Yasuhiro.

"You will apologize to Aoi," she growled, gripping Yasuhiro's dreadlocked head firmly in one hand. He did so with tears in his eyes. He was a different sort of upset now, but at least he had quieted down, and he glumly took his seat beside Leon on the couch. Leon managed to pull him into a conversation about the baseball game on TV, which seemed to calm him somewhat.

Mondo returned to the living room area with a twelve-pack of sodas in tow, and he handed them out to some of the guests. Aoi tripped over her words trying to apologize about her spill, but upon hearing what had happened he assured her that Yasuhiro would have to clean his carpet later.

The biker checked the hour on his phone for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. There was still another fifteen minutes or so to go until the event everyone had gathered for. He'd promised Leon that he and the guys could watch the game until then— though now that he looked more closely, both Chihiro and Hifumi appeared to be messing around on their laptops more than they were watching baseball.

As he looked around at everyone, he couldn't help but smile to himself. It had been a little while since they'd all been in the same place like this. There'd been some changes since their last meeting— Byakuya had formally taken over his family's business dealings, Kyouko had been hired by the local police department to assist in investigations, and Aoi had earned herself a spot representing Japan in the next Olympics. Everyone had been quite busy.

Mondo himself hadn't started college yet. For one thing, his history made his options limited. He'd managed to narrow his choices down to a couple of lackluster schools, but for now he was hanging behind to reorganize the gang he'd built with his brother. He was making massive changes from the ground up. He was completely reforming its purpose— he was giving it a purpose other than wreaking havoc.

When Mondo had first been faced with the prospect of leaving his gang behind to pursue a proper job, as his brother had intended to do, he had been somewhat skeptical. He had never intended to spend the rest of his life as a criminal, but he loved his bike and the open road and the bond between him and his followers. He loved living in the moment, loved taking risks, loved getting his adrenaline pumping.