Categories > Anime/Manga > Gungrave
Time Bomb
1 ReviewsTick Tick Tick, Boom.
Time Bomb.
Bunji spent hours screwing his new C-drum magazine to the mount of his Browning. The black round drum reeked of new metal, and this one held a hundred rounds, thirty more than his old C-drum could muster. Three paces to his right, in the corner slaving over a lamp-lit desk, sat Lee. Lee didn't mind monthly bills, as long as all the receipts were on his desk when it came time to tally amounts and sign checks.
"Boon?" as he spoke, he didn't even bother averting his eyes from the checkbook.
"Yo," Bunji said, a resounding click, and the drum was mated proper to the mount. He held up both his Browning's with glee, grinning ear to ear, as he aimed them toward the open patio doors.
"Where's the receipt for those round ammo magazines you picked up tonight?"
"It's in your, in box." Bunji said, emphasis on the 'in'. Bunji often mocked Lee's anal need for an orderly desk routine. He felt that shit was fine for Lee's office at Magritt, but for him to bring it home was just overkill. As he gathered up his extra mounting screws, his fingers followed one of them rolling across the floor, stopping at Lee's foot. Bunji glanced up, towering over him now was Lee, hand on hip, other hand at his side, the night's receipt bunched up in his fist.
"Do you remember last night, when we went downtown to do some shopping?" Lee asked, his face warm, his thin lips curled into a smile. Bunji knew that smile...it was not a happy smile; it was one of Lee's delicate ticks. The sort of tick that eventually led to at least two more ticks, and then, a boom.
Bunji got up from his position on the floor, dropped the screw into his kit bag, and then set his guns neatly on the table, by his favorite chair. "I don't remember."
Lee cleared his throat, stepped closer, watching as Bunji slid his hand under his shirt, to scratch a sudden itch on his chest. "Let me refresh your memory..."
"We went downtown, and stopped into the Gallery center. You took a nap..."
"Oh yeah," Bunji snorted, and recalled it now: he'd fallen asleep as Lee tried on countless versions of the same style black shirt. They all looked the same on him, yet he insisted on trying each one they had to offer in his size, simply because some of them had different designers, or worse, three buttons instead of two. "They had comfortable chairs there."
"Do you recall when it was time to leave, and I wanted to purchase the shirt I decided on?" Lee asked, again, delivering another cool, lifeless smile, this one causing his cheeks to dimple. Tick. Tick.
"Yeah, you woke me up. I wasn't happy, I was dreaming." Bunji furrowed his brow, then backed up toward his chair, one eye searching for the remote, the other watching Lee.
Lee crossed his arms over his chest, sucked in his bottom lip, and continued, "I'd forgotten my wallet, and so I said to you, Bunji- take care of this. And do you remember what you said?"
Bunji took off his shirt and bunched it into a ball in his fist. He nodded, giving a quick wipe under each arm with the shirt, before tossing it to the floor and reaching for the remote. "Yeah I remember. I said no. Seven hundred fucking dollars for black silk shirt, it only had one button. I wasn't spending money on that. It's excessive, and in my opinion, you don't need a fucking shirt over a hundred dollars." Bunji smirked, switching on the television set. He tried to avoid Lee's glare for as long as he could, "Not only that, you were asking for money, for a shirt, that wasn't even a shirt. I mean, if you asked for that kind of cash, for like what you have on now, I'd have paid up no problem."
Lee uncrossed his arms and tugged at the jacket of his pantsuit.
"But no, this was for some fucking shirt that you'd what? Walk around in, with your chest hanging out? I ain't paying for you to walk around looking like that, that's fucked up." Bunji went silent as Lee held the receipt up to his face. Less than an inch from his nose. As Lee's hand lowered, and the paper disappeared from view, Lee's smile was wearing thin. Tick. Tick. Tick.
As if the devil called her to the stage, Isobel, Lee's shiny calico that'd captured Bunji's heart from the moment he laid eyes on her, sauntered in and jumped up on the couch. The sound of the television meant Bunji was about to plant himself in his chair, which for her signaled another nightly session of soothing behind the ear scratching, and relaxing belly rubs. Bunji stared at the receipt in Lee's hand...
Lee leaned down, and with a menacing grin said, "Nine-hundred dollars and eight-three cents."
"Now hold up," Bunji pointed outside, "sometimes Izzy gets loose, and goes outside. Okay, so...so...if she gets out on the street, and a car comes, those diamonds, in that new collar, are gonna reflect the lights, and she won't get run over! That's safety Lee."
Lee's chest dropped, his arms fell to his sides.
"You have until midnight," Lee said with a leer, "to go out there and get my shirt and bring it back here on your dime. You don't, then I take that collar, or...I take your ass."
Bunji huffed. He backed up, pulled a crushed pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans, shook one loose, and then lit it. He huffed again, smoke escaped his lips as he plopped down in the chair and started flicking through channels. It was as if Lee had said nothing worth mentioning. Lee turned, sat back down at his desk, and waited. He finished the bills, ten minutes passed, and then he turned off his light.
"Why aren't you moving?" he asked.
"Are you done with that?" Bunji asked, "Go get me a beer."
Lee clenches his fists, but didn't turn around, or get up from his desk.
"Just bring me the whole six-pack," said Bunji, "I want to be nice and relaxed, when you do me later."
Bunji tried not to smile, even as Lee walked to him, letting a twelve-pack carton drop at his feet.
"Why aren't you moving?" Lee asked again.
"Why should I?" Bunji scoffed, "I've seen what you're packing, shit, I've picked my teeth with it. It don't exactly make me want to run for cover."
Lee's right cheek dented hard, teeth were now exposed, eyes fixed, and arms crossed over chest once more.
Boom!
Lee jumped for diamond studded collar around the cat's neck. The feline hopped up, barely avoiding his grasp. Bunji launched from his chair, and dove into Lee's legs, tackling him to the floor...
Bunji spent hours screwing his new C-drum magazine to the mount of his Browning. The black round drum reeked of new metal, and this one held a hundred rounds, thirty more than his old C-drum could muster. Three paces to his right, in the corner slaving over a lamp-lit desk, sat Lee. Lee didn't mind monthly bills, as long as all the receipts were on his desk when it came time to tally amounts and sign checks.
"Boon?" as he spoke, he didn't even bother averting his eyes from the checkbook.
"Yo," Bunji said, a resounding click, and the drum was mated proper to the mount. He held up both his Browning's with glee, grinning ear to ear, as he aimed them toward the open patio doors.
"Where's the receipt for those round ammo magazines you picked up tonight?"
"It's in your, in box." Bunji said, emphasis on the 'in'. Bunji often mocked Lee's anal need for an orderly desk routine. He felt that shit was fine for Lee's office at Magritt, but for him to bring it home was just overkill. As he gathered up his extra mounting screws, his fingers followed one of them rolling across the floor, stopping at Lee's foot. Bunji glanced up, towering over him now was Lee, hand on hip, other hand at his side, the night's receipt bunched up in his fist.
"Do you remember last night, when we went downtown to do some shopping?" Lee asked, his face warm, his thin lips curled into a smile. Bunji knew that smile...it was not a happy smile; it was one of Lee's delicate ticks. The sort of tick that eventually led to at least two more ticks, and then, a boom.
Bunji got up from his position on the floor, dropped the screw into his kit bag, and then set his guns neatly on the table, by his favorite chair. "I don't remember."
Lee cleared his throat, stepped closer, watching as Bunji slid his hand under his shirt, to scratch a sudden itch on his chest. "Let me refresh your memory..."
"We went downtown, and stopped into the Gallery center. You took a nap..."
"Oh yeah," Bunji snorted, and recalled it now: he'd fallen asleep as Lee tried on countless versions of the same style black shirt. They all looked the same on him, yet he insisted on trying each one they had to offer in his size, simply because some of them had different designers, or worse, three buttons instead of two. "They had comfortable chairs there."
"Do you recall when it was time to leave, and I wanted to purchase the shirt I decided on?" Lee asked, again, delivering another cool, lifeless smile, this one causing his cheeks to dimple. Tick. Tick.
"Yeah, you woke me up. I wasn't happy, I was dreaming." Bunji furrowed his brow, then backed up toward his chair, one eye searching for the remote, the other watching Lee.
Lee crossed his arms over his chest, sucked in his bottom lip, and continued, "I'd forgotten my wallet, and so I said to you, Bunji- take care of this. And do you remember what you said?"
Bunji took off his shirt and bunched it into a ball in his fist. He nodded, giving a quick wipe under each arm with the shirt, before tossing it to the floor and reaching for the remote. "Yeah I remember. I said no. Seven hundred fucking dollars for black silk shirt, it only had one button. I wasn't spending money on that. It's excessive, and in my opinion, you don't need a fucking shirt over a hundred dollars." Bunji smirked, switching on the television set. He tried to avoid Lee's glare for as long as he could, "Not only that, you were asking for money, for a shirt, that wasn't even a shirt. I mean, if you asked for that kind of cash, for like what you have on now, I'd have paid up no problem."
Lee uncrossed his arms and tugged at the jacket of his pantsuit.
"But no, this was for some fucking shirt that you'd what? Walk around in, with your chest hanging out? I ain't paying for you to walk around looking like that, that's fucked up." Bunji went silent as Lee held the receipt up to his face. Less than an inch from his nose. As Lee's hand lowered, and the paper disappeared from view, Lee's smile was wearing thin. Tick. Tick. Tick.
As if the devil called her to the stage, Isobel, Lee's shiny calico that'd captured Bunji's heart from the moment he laid eyes on her, sauntered in and jumped up on the couch. The sound of the television meant Bunji was about to plant himself in his chair, which for her signaled another nightly session of soothing behind the ear scratching, and relaxing belly rubs. Bunji stared at the receipt in Lee's hand...
Lee leaned down, and with a menacing grin said, "Nine-hundred dollars and eight-three cents."
"Now hold up," Bunji pointed outside, "sometimes Izzy gets loose, and goes outside. Okay, so...so...if she gets out on the street, and a car comes, those diamonds, in that new collar, are gonna reflect the lights, and she won't get run over! That's safety Lee."
Lee's chest dropped, his arms fell to his sides.
"You have until midnight," Lee said with a leer, "to go out there and get my shirt and bring it back here on your dime. You don't, then I take that collar, or...I take your ass."
Bunji huffed. He backed up, pulled a crushed pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans, shook one loose, and then lit it. He huffed again, smoke escaped his lips as he plopped down in the chair and started flicking through channels. It was as if Lee had said nothing worth mentioning. Lee turned, sat back down at his desk, and waited. He finished the bills, ten minutes passed, and then he turned off his light.
"Why aren't you moving?" he asked.
"Are you done with that?" Bunji asked, "Go get me a beer."
Lee clenches his fists, but didn't turn around, or get up from his desk.
"Just bring me the whole six-pack," said Bunji, "I want to be nice and relaxed, when you do me later."
Bunji tried not to smile, even as Lee walked to him, letting a twelve-pack carton drop at his feet.
"Why aren't you moving?" Lee asked again.
"Why should I?" Bunji scoffed, "I've seen what you're packing, shit, I've picked my teeth with it. It don't exactly make me want to run for cover."
Lee's right cheek dented hard, teeth were now exposed, eyes fixed, and arms crossed over chest once more.
Boom!
Lee jumped for diamond studded collar around the cat's neck. The feline hopped up, barely avoiding his grasp. Bunji launched from his chair, and dove into Lee's legs, tackling him to the floor...
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