Hajime Iwaizumi

"Goddamnit."

Hajime groans as he lays underneath a car tinkering with its engine. He rolls from under it and ran his fingers through his brown spikey hair then wipes the oil on his skin tight black shirt. He grabs a few parts and tools from a nearby box and rolls back under. It was a scorching hot summer in Miyagi, Japan, Hajime's whole shop was covered in fans and a TV nearby was playing a volleyball match. Hajime had the whole day to himself. He had no wife, surprisingly. No kids to have running around his shop and possibly loosing a finger. That already gave himself shivers thinking of a nagging wife telling him go stop spending time at the shop and raise snotty nose kids. Don't get him wrong, Hajime loved kids. The idea of having a mini him was exciting, it's just the woman that gives him problems. His past relationships always ended because he spent too much time at his little mechanic shop, but he had everything he needed here. His routine was simple. Wake up in his studio-apartment, make a horrible made waffle, head to work in his nice jeep, fix cars for how many hours he wanted, go to the bar and flirt with any girl that looked at him, go home, fall asleep to wresting matches, then wake up and do it all over again. Was he looking for someone to settle down with? Yes. Was he going to try to look? Hell no.

Hajime rolled back from the truck and wiped his hands this time on grey sweatpants. That's when his head snapped to the door when he heard the bell jingle, signaling that someone entered the shop.