#chapters.

eight percent | chapter one | ongoing

“We have insurance on this car, right?”

Atsumu's gaze flickered over to Hinata who’s smiling at him with this crazed look in his eyes. The same crazed look he always had right before he did something that would inevitably get him and the rest of the team in deep shit with Meian afterwards.

“I hate when you ask that,” Sakusa muttered darkly in the back, slinking into his seat. “Stop asking that. Actually, we should stop letting you be the one who drives on missions, period.”

“Kou’s license is suspended!” Hinata chirped, still wearing his electric grin. Atsumu could feel a migraine coming in hard and sharp. “And Atsumu sucks at Mario Kart so we don’t let him drive the real cars, remember?”

“There’s no correlation between the two!” Atsumu snapped. The summer heat seeped into the car, making the black kevlar of Atsumu’s shirt stick to his skin. He pushed his hair back, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“I’m getting it back next month!” Bokuto happily tacked on. Atsumu wondered if he could pay someone to keep Bokuto’s license suspended permanently.

His leader was brilliant on the field. But behind the wheel? Atsumu liked keeping his already very low odds of staying alive intact. Driving with Bokuto made those odds nearly non-existent.

The downstairs lounge was easily one of Sawyer’s favorite places in the building. It was never too busy, and the decor was to die for. Somehow, in the midst of all of the chaos in the city, and the rest of the world, at that, the artwork and furniture in the main lobbies and lounge had managed to survive, mostly unscathed. Anything was a step up from the bakery she and Raleigh had spent so much time in, though. 

Sat back on one of the leather sofas, legs crossed at the ankles, a book in her hands, dark eyes studied the pages before her. It wasn’t as though the apartment complex had a bookstore or anything of the sort, but many of the residents had began swapping things in their new homes, whether it be books or movies, or even board games. Anything to pass the time. Hearing a loud noise, as though somebody had kicked the nearby coffee table, Sawyer sat up quickly, eyes immediately falling on the visitor. Marking her page, she closed the book, a little more attentive. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be downstairs, at this time. “Thought I’d be the only one awake,” She chuckled lightly, crossing her legs once more. “Can’t sleep?”

i’m not afraid of all the reasons why we shouldn’t try, @illucinoire.

am i... dead?

she smiled, and then the spell was cast. and here we are... in heaven? for she is... mine? at last?

no.

he shook it all off, those wishful thoughts being replaced by the slapping one that it was an obvious hallucination. it couldn't have been real, or at least she looked more unreal that she did on the daily. like they were in a different dimension, maybe in heaven, just as he'd thought earlier, with her being the only entity present. better than paradise, he'd argue.

the train's moving but he couldn't exactly feel that it was. he was able to stand just fine without wobbling or swaying to and fro. or maybe it's because he was left shivering on the platform with ten minutes of numbing quiet, a rouge page of last year's school paper being chased by the wind like a pigeon with wings fluttering with feathers of rhetoric and melodrama being his only other companion, just before he'd boarded (he could have sworn he saw what the articles within it were, one of them being an entry of his).

the gentle chunk of lip-gloss stained lid and her morning earl grey lands on the seat next to her with a graceful flick of her wrist. she looked divine. long, soft curls, ash brown long sleeves, taupe boots over stockings, and a veiled black chupalla which makes all the difference. because that's not how lucy dressed normally. that, or she's attempting the same thing jaebin himself tried long ago before with all the dark clothes he could find in his closet. or going back to his previous thought, that this was a hallucination and none of this was actually real.

echo from all around, la luna ringing in his mind, and an entrance he didn't expect came at a moment's notice. an old man joined in, walking toward lucy in the most casual manner, totally ignoring jaebin as if he wasn't right there standing in front of lucy, just meters away. he could not be blamed, jaebin thought. he was so ordinary, he could beat drax at mastering the art of being invisible. he didn't even have to stay still to be able to pull it off.

the grating, metallic shriek heralds the halt of the decrepit carriage, standing in defiance of... its condition? wait. it was a modern model. it wasn't all corroded iron and tacky upholstery, as the sounds would suggest. nothing made sense in that place. especially thinking back on how he got there in the first place.

it was moo. of course, it was moo. it was the same feline who created all sorts of raucous in his life. bringing him his prized kills, dead birds and rats as "gifts" as his google searches suggested, urinating and defecating anywhere he stood or sat, or strategically depositing fresh hairballs in places where he would narrowly avoid stepping on them, covering his favorite sweater with a fine coating of its hair while he wasn't looking, stealing his stuff and hoarding it in unimaginable places... just some of the few he could think of off the top of his head at a trippy moment like such. but yes, moo brought him here. moo and its gang of cats. it's been years and he's still not sure what gender moo is. but that's not the most important thing to figure out.

"h-hey..." he muttered under his breath, as if that would get anyone's attention. it did get the cats to turn their heads swiftly at his direction, giving him chills down his spine.

"maybe if you didn't interrupt lucy bonding with her grandpa, she'd like you more."

whoever the owner of that voice was, he sure was hoping it wasn't any of the cats. he looked mortified, nonetheless, knowing the possibility of it was very likely. no one else was around, and the then identified person approaching lucy still gave him no attention, just as she didn't. he almost felt insulted. but watching them connect, with no words exchanged, just endearing smiles and longing stares, struck him with awe.

what a clown he'd seem. he didn't belong in that place. why was he brought there again? he had no way to leave either way. he stayed where he was, like a fool who wouldn't mind if it meant it was for lucy. he would do anything for lucy. he would follow her anywhere. wait.

i would follow her anywhere.

“your loss, dude.”

al dente’s the essence of your mother’s home recipe for chicken noodle soup.

wrong. kind of. but he should say it like that anyway. “look it up.”

he gasps a little too exaggeratedly, hand finding its way grasping at his chest and wrinkling his shirt slightly. it was all unintended, though. he really was shocked at his straightforward response. he pouts and usually people tell him it’s unbecoming of a man. whispering in his ear was always his mom, “no one can dictate what you can and can’t feel.” so it didn’t bother him whenever he heard the talks.