Chapter 1: Am I only living, living to survive?

The morning, like every morning, started with a blaring alarm and yelling in his ear. Jun groaned as he nudged Cheeseburger, his tripod cat, off his back so he could sit up, tiredly staring at the big numbers 5:00 on his phone screen. Far from having had enough sleep, he had to roll himself off the bed to fall the short drop to the floor. Cheeseburger hopped her way down next to him, purring as she rubbed her face against his sleep tousled hair before he finally got up on his feet to shut the alarm off.

Arms stretching over his head, he did a few stretches before walking to the tiny kitchen, all the while Cheeseburger tried to trip him until he gave her her breakfast. She happily munched away on her wet food, human company momentarily forgotten, and he started preparing his own breakfast. He had two shifts back to back today, so his usual meal was replaced with a sturdier one that would last him longer. The rice and fish never failed to remind him of his days at the Slifer Red dorms, and he felt a sting in his chest at the thought of the friends he hadn’t seen in so many years, and he couldn’t help himself but open the instagram app on his phone as he waited for the rice to cook. He tried to avoid thinking about them, but the anniversary for his DA graduation had just passed, and he knew they all would have met less than a week ago, back at their old school. He went to Asuka’s page first, all his old friends' usernames committed to memory by now. Right there, the newest post, he could see all of their faces smiling at him in front of a backdrop of what had been home to him; the red dorm. It had been fixed up a bit, but still looked ragged and not fit for a Manjoume to live in, even ten years later.

He missed it so much it hurt.

Working double shifts at the convenience store was hell, especially when you had to pretend to be someone else. The store was in a pretty bad neighbourhood, which he had known when he applied, since a place had to be at least a little bit shady to hire someone without any sort of identification, but that also brought along a lot of annoying customers.

It being Friday, a lot of people bought copious amounts of alcohol. Most of the time when he asked for an ID to prove that the person buying it was of age he got an angry response, but he just had to smile and bear the insults from teenagers who claimed they “know the boss” or are “totally 30 years old, see, the ID is totally not fake”. After 8 years of working at the same place, he’d heard all kinds of ridiculous excuses for why he should sell them beer or cigarettes just this once. But what happened at the front of the store had to be legal, the boss had made sure of that. Jun kept his ears away from what might happen behind though, but he knew it wasn’t anything major. The boss wasn’t that bad after all, law wise. He followed it most of the time. The man was less particular with the treatment of his workers, and let the customers get away with all sorts of things said and done to the staff. Most of them didn’t have proper contracts, so there was little they could do. Jun had figured out rather early on that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t flaunt IDs. He could say his name was now “Tanaka Haruki”, but without the right amount of cash and the right contact, he couldn’t get any sort of good ID that would get him access to what most people took for granted. What he used to take for granted.

6 and a half hours into his second shift, and he felt like he was dying. He pulled out his phone to check the time yet again. The store was empty, but it was open for another few hours. He could count the customers he’d had since 8 PM on his fingers. He hated these days, when he was called in to work another shift on a day he was already scheduled because the owner had fucked up the scheduling. Luckily it only happened a few times a month, but it was grueling. Especially since he usually had to get up and go to work again just a few hours later. This time he was lucky that he was working an evening shift the next day, and could sleep in and not wake up at five tomorrow. If he hadn't been able to get the few extra hours of sleep he would have been at risk of crying.

Time passed by slowly, dragging on until it was finally one minute till closing. He was counting the seconds, staring intently at his phone. Just as the counter changed to 23:00 he heard the doors open and the bell chiming. He stifled a groan and got his best (but oh so tired) customer service smile on. “Good evening! What can I do for-”

The person was at least clearly of age, but there was so much beer stacked next to the register that he felt like he was going to pass out. Especially when the man opened one of the cans right in front of him, before having even paid for a single one of the cans. 

He scanned the cans as fast as he could, without meeting the man’s eyes. He was way too tired for this.

The next morning he woke up to the blessed sound of only his cat. The meows were as loud as ever at 5 in the morning, but once she had gotten her breakfast she was right by his side, purring into his ear as he fell back asleep.

He woke up again at 9, not feeling rested but much better than before he went back to sleep at five. Since he had another 6 hours ahead of him before he had to go to work, he decided to go to the gym. It was something he had gotten into the habit of doing at least once a week, having figured out it was a good way to fake looking healthier, and after he got himself a proper (half) life again, it had stuck. Besides, it was a good way to keep in shape in case his brothers found out he was alive and he had to run. He was always prepared to run; a bag packed with some clothes and cans of food both for him and Cheeseburger, and the cat always seemed to like it when they went somewhere in the cage. She was a little weirdo, but at least she was cute.

He jogged to the gym as warmup, the spring in the air finally arriving and allowing him to shed the winter coat he had bought second hand almost nine years ago. He really needed to get a new one for next winter; the thing was falling apart. 

The gym was mostly empty, and he went into the changing room to change. The place was usually more crowded in the afternoons, so he always preferred to come in the morning. He usually came earlier, but after so many hours of work, he really needed that extra sleep.

He made quick work of changing his clothes, too self-conscious of his scars to want anyone to get a good look. He’d never had any good luck with the boyfriends or girlfriends he’d made through the gym anyway, so the less view anyone got of his body the better.

Jun couldn’t help staring at the built brunette by the treadmills though; he only saw him from behind, but the man had been running on it for 20 minutes now. He wasn’t all that tall (Jun might even think he was taller by a little bit) but what he lacked in stature he made up for in muscles. He’d always had a thing for legs, and he might have lost himself in them had he not forced himself to get back to his workout. The next time he looked over, the man was gone.

Washing himself up and getting changed was a whole affair. There were no private stalls to shower in, so trying to keep from getting stared at too much was a hassle. At least he didn’t have as much hair anymore, so washing it was a lot quicker. It was the only pro to have cut it off. He was just pulling on his non-sweaty shirt over his head when he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in years.

“Manjoume?! Holy crap, what’re you doing here?!”

Jun froze. No one had called him by his real name in almost a decade, and the first thought that popped into his head was that he’d been found out by his brothers, and was now going to die. He turned around, eyes wide as he was face to face with the built brunette. It was Yuuki fucking Juudai.

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