I don't know what possessed me to write an entire chapter about a stupid ride in a stupid cab...but it's too late now.

btw, I know very little about cigars. :D

And, about the diner's coordinates in the last chapter...I was about to put "Fourth and Freemont," but then I realized that was form a song...so I put the first thing that came to mind. XD -historyclasshistoryclasshistoryclass-

Thank you all so much for reviewing!! -loves-

Akasuki does not belong to me.

The air inside the taxi cab was thick with the smell of tobacco and old socks. It made Sasori's eyes water and his lungs burn as he slid into the tattered maroon seat next to his best friend. Dark green smoke trailed back to them from an Etch 3000 cigar in the driver's jet-black hand.

"Suzume Diner, Kanto, please," Kisame said politely. Giving only a nod to show he understood, the driver took a long draw on the cigar, and yanked the shift. The cab lurched forward, and Sasori clutched his stomach. It sank to his toes and he pressed his forehead against his knees, holding his breath anxiously.

A moment later, Kisame was rubbing the redhead's back comfortingly. "You okay, buddy?" There was a long pause as the cab rose in altitude and Sasori steadied his breathing.

"I h-hate cabs," he said shakily.

"I know, I know. But this is the quickest way."

"...Fine."

Deciding the shorter man would be alright, Kisame turned his attention to the dark window on his left. At first glance, it appeared to be made that way. But upon closer inspection, one would find that it had been stained by deathly smoke.

The splicer glanced at Sasori, who had his head between his knees, and shook his head with a short laugh. Staring out the lightless window, he could see the tops of buildings and other hovercars (mainly taxis) zoom by.

The skyway was far above the soiled streets where children played and vermin thrived, and higher than most building. Few people owned cars, so the taxi drivers, with their two-size, million-style cabs usually had work. Many walked, which was Sasori's preferred mode of travel, but in some cases flight was necessary. Kisame didn't care either way.

The blue-haired man began thinking back to the first time he and Sasori met. It was the first day of third grade. Too-tall Kisame, with his spikey hair and bad attitude, and shy Sasori, with an unruly mane and knee-less jeans, stood on opposite sides of a crowded, sunlit classroom.

Sasori had just moved in, and was teased by his classmates throughout the day. Nobody messed with Kisame. He sat alone at a short, round table and sketched. But all the while, he watched the new kid out of the corner of his eye. The way the other children picked at the poor boy enraged him, but he said nothing.

At recess, a pack of the bullies confronted Sasori and stole his notebook.

"Androids?" they cawed in disbelief at his drawings. They were a child's work, but works of art nonetheless. "What are you drawing those for?"

Sasori begged for the notebook back, but the tallest held it above his head. They laughed and jeered until the poor redhead was in tears.

A large, foreboding shadow silenced them all. Kisame calmly pulled the notebook out of the leader's hands, dropped it into Sasori's, and growled, "Leave him alone."

They were best friends from that day forward, and Sasori never had to worry about bullies again.

A gravelly voice shattered the flashback. "You two have any family?" the driver asked gruffly. Sasori gurgled a "no" and Kisame mumbled something about his an older sister (whom he hadn't seen in ages.)

"But you've got friends, at least," a softer, unsure voice offered. The splicer and his companion blinked at the back of the driver's head.

"Yeah," the said in unison.

The soft voice laughed gently. "Then you're lucky. That's more than a lot of people have." The pair found themselves smiling as the strange driver tossed his smelly cigar out the widnow.

Hope you likes it, rawr. :3

Also...can anyone guess who the driver is?? He'll be appearing again...Muahahahah