Cross posted on tumblr and ao3

I don't own DMMd

It isn't until a little over a week later that Noiz vaguely remembers the broken doll by his workstation. He'd been too busy working on a private order for one of his clients to really make an effort to return to Keisen in the last few days. Plus, the old man had taken a nasty fall only three days prior, leaving the business in his rather incapable hands.

For the most part, he'd coped, but any sort of motivation to file the papers left him once the blue light of his screens hit the cracked shell of the robot. Noiz crouched down beside it, fingers ghosting around the open area of the eye. At least the most important parts were salvageable. He wasn't too sure he'd ever be able to reconnect the eye perfectly, and the ear was another matter all together, but he figured he could do it.

And yet, he still had the niggling feeling of just how much he would earn back if he stripped it for parts or sold it. Not that Noiz was strapped for cash of course - his family, whilst estranged, did leave him a small fortune in an account that has never been touched, and there was his unsavoury line of work to consider too.

But, cash was cash. Vaguely, Noiz started typing at his screen, typing into various threads on how much a bot like this one was worth. As he settled on his swivel chair, the responses were almost instant, with people asking from all around what the serial number was. Pushing himself over to the bot, he leaned down again and carefully turned the head, frowning as he read the little line of numbers there.

Back at the screens, he typed out the digits. His response was almost explosive, people calling bullshit on him finding a model of such a make. Clicking his tongue as he scrolled through various people giving him prices ranging from a few modest thousand into close to a million, it did nothing more than fuel Noiz's desire to fix it up. Eventually though, of course. He still had the order to fill out for a friend of a friend and well …

Just before he was going to flick the screens off, one last response caught his eye. Noiz recognised the avatar immediately, and frowned at the line that followed:

— Found yourself a personal vibrator?

Noiz flicked the screens off after that. He was really not in the mood to deal with snide remarks from that guy. Bad enough he managed to kick his ass in a friendly game of Rhyme again but now he was following his usage? It was like he had a stalker, when he was pretty sure the roles were reversed only the other year when Noiz himself was slightly obsessed with kicking the other guy's ass.

Scowling, Noiz kicked the nearest tool away, realising his mistake when there was a loud crack that echoed through the shop. Swearing loudly, he quickly moved to assess the damage.

"You are turning out to become more trouble than you're worth," Noiz muttered, although knew he wouldn't get a response. He had successfully managed to crack whatever remained of the bot's shoulder, exposing the metal ball joint and a serious amount of wiring.

Swearing again, Noiz stood, turning a piece of the shell over in his hands. It was weird. The outermost layer was soft, just like skin (no duh, he told himself, it was only supposed to blend in with humans), and the next layer down was ridiculously strong. But not that strong, he noted, as with a small amount of interest he tried to piece it and successfully passed through three layers. Fourth layer was the toughest, and had the weirdest texture. It was rough and bumpy, just like plastic you'd find before it was cultured enough to be made into something.

As he moved to see if he could fit it back in, the bell at the front of the shop rang, followed by a soft voice calling for him. Chucking it on the pile of papers next to his computer, Noiz left to see what the old lady wanted. He'd need to see if he could get a substantial amount of that made. He'd probably have to replace the entire casing with the sheer amount of damage.

Any real thoughts of the bot left him when the old lady smiled in that weirdly motherly way of hers which always managed to make him hurt just a little, and presented him with lunch. She must have noticed the way he frowned when he realised it wasn't pizza or pasta, but some weird rice bowl, because she merely laughed to herself. He still wasn't used to the type of food around here and it showed when he picked up a piece of meat with his fingers, earning him a slap to the back of the hand.

"You know you can't live off of pizza like that, young man. You need to eat real food. Or you'll start to waste away and then where will we be?" She chided as she pinched the skin just above his hip, as if that was emphasising his point. If anything he'd put on a bit of weight in the last few months.

Noiz merely glared at her, but took the offered chopsticks with a short 'thanks'. He dug in without a moments notice, ignoring the sigh from the old lady. He hadn't realised how hungry he had been. Well, he'd only taken a break about half an hour ago, he'd been working all morning, after all.

"Noiz, slow down. You'll choke you know."

Noiz grunted in response, but did so nonetheless. It wouldn't be good to give the old lady a heart attack. Her husband would never forgive him. And then he wouldn't be able to work here and use their space whilst they filled out the smaller orders.

The old lady babbled about the old man's condition whilst Noiz ate, with him offering a small noise of acknowledgement every so often. It wasn't until the bell at the door rang that the old lady stopped. Customers rarely came past, if anything ordering over the phone. Both Noiz and the old lady looked towards the front, with her exclaiming in surprise and Noiz merely sighing.

Well, he certainly wasn't expecting to see him in person anytime soon. His day was steadily getting worse. Just what he wanted. Leaning against the nearest desk, Noiz merely frowned as the newcomer came towards him with a cheery smile unlike the other month.

"Noiz, it's good to see you."

"Aoba," he greeted as cordially as he could manage. Sly, he greeted inwardly, noticing that distinct glow was gone, replaced by amber eyes that shone.

His day was going to shit.