Mihoshi took the scenic route through the city, feeling the sheer history sink into her skin. Chubby faces cherubs and well hung Romans lay all around here. This was truly her favorite part of Rome, and she made a point of it to go on a walk at least once. Her starting point was always different to work, but she always made her way through here somehow.

It was a warmer than average spring day. The breeze was cool, but other than that the city seemed to bake under the uncharacteristic heat. Mihoshi had plucked herself a pair of designer sunglasses from the lobby of the hotel where she was staying and ventured out into the bright, hot sun.

Stopping for a few moments to stare at a particularly lewd statue, Mihoshi raised a hand to block the glare from her eyes to admire the marble visage. She heard a noise and looked towards the road, only to see the most incredible sight. The reddest, most shiny Ferrari F355 was rolling up to her with its top down, revealing the driver. He had a smarmy smile and eyes that were probably sparkling behind his sport sunglasses. He was, for all intents and purposes, the biggest douchebag she'd ever seen. He smiled at you and tipped the sunglasses down, eyeing her like a piece of meat.

"Ciao bella ragazza!" He said in a singsong voice. "You need a ride? Beautiful flowers like yourself shouldn't be moving around in such horrible heat! You might faint, and then who knows what could happen right?"

She stared at him. He stared at her. In her surprise she exclaimed in her native language, "Fellini-san!"

He cocked his head. "Japanese…? Haha, do I know you from somewhere? Japan…." He scratched his head before parking the car where it stood. Mihoshi crossed her arms and spoke back to him in Italian.

"Do you really not remember? I was big that year too."

Mihoshi watched him struggle with the deduction before pointing at her face. "Gunpla World Championship? Remember?"

His mouth fell open dumbly as he realized. "K-Kirara?! Oh man, I did it again!" He smacked his forehead with his palm in exasperation at himself before propping his sunglasses up on his head.

"Well come on, I'll give you a ride. What I said about beautiful flowers isn't exactly wrong you know." He winked, and she sighed. She threw herself away with reckless abandon and flopped into the passenger seat, her bag abandoned in the back. Fellini turned the car on and then mashed the pedal for effect. The car roared to life and he smiled at her, an eyebrow cocked as though to say 'cool right?' She stroked the washboard, the surface warm to the touch.

"So, this is what you spent your money on, eh, Gunpla World Champion MISTER Fellini?" She teased, dragging her finger over the stitching on the glove compartment. "A Ferrari? Really? Can you even afford the insurance?"

Fellini balked and shook his head, sending his hair flying. It had been pulled back into an even larger ponytail than normal and she could see tanlines on the back of his neck. It was an exciting little detail that she catalogued in the back of her mind for the future.

"Well, you know, after they mass-produced the Fenice, all that royalty money…" He smiled sheepishly before turning to her again. "You know Kirara, you don't have to call me now. We're, uh, not in Japan anymore you know. Hell we don't even have the same relationship as back then, as a competitor and a commentator I mean. So if you want, you can always just call me R—"

"Ricky?"

He paled. "Just…. Just Rick is fine."

She poked his cheek, talking in a cheerful but condescending tone. "So, I guess, Ricky, that means you can call me Mihoshi then."

He stared at her before nodding with a smile and smacking his sunglasses back over his eyes.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road baby! Hey, do you mind if I put a little music on?"

Music? Whatever objections she might have had were quickly silenced as Fellini had begun to dig around in the console for something. Finally finding it, he removed a blank jewel case. The CD inside was clearly home-made, with 'musica per la guida' scrawled on it in surprisingly messy handwriting. She wondered then how did his handwriting manage to be so bad if he was such a good builder. Shouldn't steadiness with a knife and file translate to skill with a pen? Any strange thoughts were quickly pushed out of her head as the CD was inserted, and Fellini ramped the sound up.

"ALL RIGHT MIHOSHI, WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO?" He shouted over the opening cords. She scrawled down the address on a napkin and he accepted it. He shifted out of the gutter and into the fastest lane in the road then, mashing the gas pedal and throwing his head back, screaming the opening words: JUST WILD BEAT COMMUNICATION