Chapter Text
it all started in a convenience store.
not an original place to pick, to be sure. and that was why jisung chose it; most people would avoid restaurants, schools, and hospitals because a crowd of people would flock there during the initial outbreak. there was hardly anything left – anything good, that is. sleeping in the streets sounded a lot worse, so, yesterday night, when park jisung spotted it, he had to go inside and stay for a bit.
the sun shone a bright blinding yellow up in the sky, and for a second, it didn’t look like the end of the world. until you took a closer look, that is. forgotten cars, dead corpses, and blood. broken glass and rundown stores, empty, as most of its contents, had already been stolen by survivors. occasionally, you’d find the undead – their unmistakable growls as they dragged their feet on the floor, rotten, and disgusting, falling apart, looking for more victims to take.
na jaemin made his way through the nearly empty streets.
whenever he stepped by an old rotten corpse, he jabbed them a couple of times with the bayonet in his shotgun, for good measure. he was alone, dressed in his old, dirty military uniform, walking quietly like he was invisible.
a few feet from him there was an old broken sign of a convenience store. he was certain it had already been completely raided by now, but he made his way to it, anyway. in the apocalypse, you need to take the risk, sometimes.
silently, jaemin opened the doors, stepping into the store with his trusty shotgun in hand, with no idea of firing it – he wasn’t stupid. making too much noise would only attract more of them.
he made his way across the entrance, reaching the cashier, when he noticed something in the corner of his eye, or better yet, someone.
jaemin reacted fast by aiming his shotgun at the person sitting there, guard extremely high, ready to shoot if they made any sudden moves. although he wasn't the “shoot first and ask questions later” kind of guy, after a long while surviving in the wastes, he’d learned not to let his guard down. no matter what. trust issues came with surviving the end of the world.
his eyes widened analyzing the figure in front of him.
it was a boy. black hair, dark eyes. probably in his late teens. he looked terrified, which, all in all, was a fair reaction since there was a strange man aiming a 12 gauge shotgun at his head.
he was frozen in place, like a statue. didn't look like a threat.
jaemin kept his gun aimed at him, anyway.
slowly he shifted to the side, standing face to face with him, taking quick glances to make sure there was no one behind or around him. jaemin stood there, quietly, very still.
he took a second, then asked, “you armed?”
the boy raised his hands, shaking his head profusely. tears came to his eye, so clearly not used to this yet. jaemin hated it. he didn’t want to emotionally scar another human being, much less a kid.
“no...” he whispered, afraid it wasn't enough to convince him and he’d end up as dead as the several corpses fallen all over the city. in a hurry, the boy continued, not daring to lower his hands or hide his tears. “p-please, i just stopped to eat a little... i needed a place to sleep. p-please don't shoot me. or eat me...!”
the boy’s words burned his ears, echoing in his brain. it flared up memories he wished he didn't own. memories of blood, corpses, and burnt fingers... jaemin lowered his gun slowly, shaking his head and letting out a long sad sigh
“i'm not gonna hurt you,” he said quietly. “and i'm not gonna fucking eat you, i'm not a cannibal,”
“do you promise?”
hope bloomed in the boy’s big round eyes, as he stared back at jaemin, lowering his hands just a little.
the sheer innocence and gullibility of the boy, along with the pure raw honesty in his eyes made jaemin lose any belief that he could be a threat. he lowered his gun completely, letting it balance on the lanyard over his shoulder.
“yeah, promise,” jaemin ran his hand through his hair, questioning how such a soft innocent thing had been to survive this long by themselves.
his tone was coarse but not aggressive, more sad than angry. bringing his gun up again, though no longer pointed at the young boy, he looked around, to make sure they were alone, looking back at him.
he asked, “are you alone?”
“yes, i'm alone,” said the boy, softly. “... are you?”
“yeah, have been for a while,” jaemin rested on the counter, arms crossed over his chest. calm. “you can put your hands down, i'm not gonna shoot you, i don't kill kids,”
“i'm not a kid... i'm 19,” muttered the boy, jutting his bottom lip out, lowering his hands completely. he put his backpack over his lap, holding it tightly. “did you come looking for food? t-there are still leftovers from dinner in the back. it's cold... but... it's good,”
jaemin couldn't help but smile very lightly. it had been a while since he had a conversation with someone, or better yet, met someone at all. he chuckled very lightly at h is correction, taking a deep breath of air in his lungs.
“yeah, thought it might still have some canned goods in the back or something,” he answered. “well that's generous, but aren't you going to it? i don't want to steal your meal,”
“it’s fine…” the boy gestured for him to go. “i’ve eaten already so i’ll be fine for a few days,”
very slowly, the boy got up from under the table, and walked towards the kitchen in the back, tossing the plastic plate in the trash.
jaemin let out a sigh, following the boy to the back at a distance, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. and... just in case.
“a few days?” he asked. “your supplies must be even lower than mine. if you want i still have a decent amount of mre's. kinda gotten sick of them. they're good. but, ya know, eating the same thing every single day gets... gross you know?” he scratched his head, noticing how stiff his conversational skills had gotten after months of very limited human contact. “it’s not much but i think it's good payment for a hand made meal,”
“yeah, i know what you mean… b-but you don’t need to repay me or anything, don’t worry… it’s fine…” said the boy, holding onto his backpack, and keeping his distance from him, looking down at the floor.
jaemin put down his sling bag, putting it over the counter. “no, no, i insist, i don't like not paying for things, man. here,”
he put down 4 mres on it, sliding them in the other’s direction. he picked up a plastic plate, putting it near the small pot, hoping to find some sort of improvised stew, but when he opened it his eyes glimmered in excitement.
jaemin's diet for the last year had been reduced to canned beans, meat, tuna, and mres, and though the latter could be considered a full meal, they weren't exactly made with love and goodness of the heart in them. the sight and smell of the hearty kimchi fried rice warmed his insides.
“fuck, you made this? how?” he asked a bit in shock, glancing at him, before taking a plastic fork and grabbing a bite, tasting the heavenly food in front of him. his eyes closed as he felt a shudder climb his back. “this... is so good, it's been ages since i've eaten actual homemade food,”
the boy watched as he ate, quiet and skittish, like a lost kitten.
“i f..found food in this old retirement home in the center of seoul a month ago,” said the boy, shrugging, like it hadn’t been a suicide mission. “i managed to sneak in and... kept portions to last a while,”
the boy reached for the mres, “t-thanks…” he whispered, shoving it inside his backpack.
“wait, wait, wait, the center of seoul?!” jaemin stopped shoving food down his throat. “central seoul is a death zone. even the army had to fall back from it. how did you manage that?!” he took his canteen to his mouth, taking a long sip after he finished eating.
the boy shrugged at what he said like he had gone to central soul more times than he could count.
jaemin huffed, impressed, “damn,”
he looked down, and asked, pulling on a loose string on his shirt. “… w.. what do you plan on doing?”
“going home, most likely. today was a bust for scavenging so i'm just going to head out and rest for the day,” jaemin shrugged, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand.
the boy scan ned him, once again.
“… i see…,” he let out, looking down at his dirty shoes, biting his lower lip to gain some courage. “i… uhm…”
jaemin read the boy’s body language like a book. his tone was... recognizable. he knew what he was about to ask, and while, yes, the probability of survival increased when people weren't alone, he couldn't risk it either way. his survival was above all else. he couldn’t allow himself to be held back by a random kid he had just met.
“y-yeah? what's the matter?” he asked in an awkward tone, putting his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave.
“do... w-would you… mind if i...” the boy swallowed hard. “if i went with you? i know it’s ridiculous... but…”
the rest of his sentence wasn’t audible. he sniffed, looking down, shaking his head.
jaemin was in a tough position. both his defensive and protective instincts flared up. he didn't want to leave the boy behind, not here; where danger ran free, when the boy looked scared and fragile. but he couldn't trust him. he couldn't trust anyone but himself. he didn't want to be mean, however, such was life in the apocalypse.
he sighed heavily, his bag and gun doubling their weight on his shoulder instantly, weighing him down along with his consciousness.
“look, i'm sorry,” he let out. “but i can't do that. we barely know each other. and i'm not saying i think you'd be a threat but i can't do that, kid,”
“r-right! it’s alright!” exclaimed the boy. “you... you don’t have to apologize.. it was stupid, anyway! completely understandable.. i don’t know what went through my head to think it’d be ok to ask that of you, sir…!”
he faked his agreement. it was obvious with how sad and desperate his dark eyes looked. he nodded again in a way that was so obvious it was forced.
“i.. i h-have to go now. uhm… good luck. fighting, sir!” the boy slurred all those words together, as he bowed at least five times and rushed out of the kitchen and the convenience store.
jaemin didn't ha ve a chance to say another word.
well, even if he did, he wouldn't be able to say anything. his mouth felt like it had been sewn shut. he had denied shelter to a few people before, but none of them had reacted like this – none of them shook him to the core like this young boy .
he readied himself, either way, searching the store for anything he could take back with him. as he had predicted, it had been properly raide d before, unfortunately. besides moldy bread and vegetables, the only worthwhile things he found were a can of corn and one of beans. not very nutritious, but food nonetheless.
after putting them in his bag, he made his way out of the ruined store, turning around the corner to another street. besides the corpses he had passed through on his way to the store, jaemin didn't see anything new as he looked around.
w ell, or so he thought.
curled up in a ball on top of an emergency stairway, he spotted the boy again, easily recognizable thanks to his bright red backpack.
there's no way he's staying there, is there? he’ll get killed here. it crossed his mind confused. guilty rose inside him for saying no that quickly. jaemin felt stupid for not even asking if he had somewhere safe to stay, assuming he simply didn't want to stay alone. the boy had to have a reason, and if this was it, he sure wasn’t gonna leave him there.
jaemin made his way towards the emergency stairs, knocking on the metal very lightly as to not spook him , coughing lightly as well to get the other’s attention.
“uh, excuse me?”
the boy flinched, anyway, shoving his face in his backpack, trying to hide that he had been crying. except, he was still crying and his anxiety wouldn’t let muffle his noises. he didn’t turn to face jaemin, running his shaky hands over his face.
“y..yes?”
jaemin was acting all on his instincts on this, he knew – brain flaring up with the thought of leaving and never thinking of this boy ever again. however, the fact that he was clearly camping out here, along with his soft cries made his empathy take over completely.
“look, uh i don't want to bother, nor you know, stick my nose in your business,” he said as he grunted lightly, hating the awkwardness in his voice. “but are you... you know, really, staying here? i see that you have camp set up and everything so, you know, was wondering,”
the boy began collecting his belongings, shoving all of them inside his bag as fast as she could, as he shook his head and got up, still hugging himself.
“n-no…! that would be stupid... and dangerous…,” he said, far too quickly to be the truth, going down the stairs, still hiding his red face from him. once he was on the floor, he bowed again. “i... i’ll be leaving now,”
jaemin took off his beret, running his fingers through his hair, letting his gun dangling at his waist.
“wait a second, kid,” he said. “look, do you even have a proper, safe place to stay?,”
“no…” whispered the boy, scratching his left arm, shrugging. he turned to look at him, knowing his face would be swollen. “i don’t have anything…”
jaemin sighed. damn him and his curiosity. now he got the answer he was hoping not to get. he slumped his shoulders a little, relaxing, breathing deeply so as to not have a heart attack then and there.
“well then, uhm,” he stuttered lightly, not knowing how to say what he wanted to properly. “look, knowing that i can't, in good conscience, leave you here to die. that would bother me way too much. but,” he hesitated. “i have some free space and, well, you seem like a nice sort of person who wouldn't shoot me while i sleep, so, if you want to, you can come with me,”
“i don’t even know how to use a gun, s-sir…” the boy stated, confused.
“yeah, well, don't worry about it,” he waved his words off playfully. “just stay alert and if you see something, tell me immediately,” he stretched his hand out for a handshake. “the name is jaemin. na jaemin,”
“park jisung, sir…,” said the boy, shaking his hand while bowing a bit, still flushed red. “t-thank you, by the way…”
“nice to meet you, park. ready to get this show on the road?” jaemin asked in good spirits, in an attempt to cheer them both up, holding his gun in his hands and turning around to leave, eyes everywhere he could lay them on.
“of course!” mumbled jisung, holding his hand close to his chest, trailing next to him – close, but not close enough to be considered inappropriate or invasive.
“then let's move out. grab your shit,” ordered jaemin with no real aggression in his voice, “it's not too far from here, so don't worry, we'll make it there in no time,”
jaemin led the way through the streets, continuing his ritual of stabbing every single corpse twice to make sure they wouldn't wake and try to rip them apart.
jisung simply nodded to what he said, eyes glued to his movements, shocked at what he did with the dead corpses on the ground. it made him scrunch his nose in disgust. the smell of rotten life was awful, but he didn’t dare open his mouth.
they strolled along the dead quiet streets for about ten minutes, too shy and awkward to say a word to one another. in the distance, he saw the small building and its big red door.
“there we go. this is my uh, home,” jaemin scratched the back of his head. “well, it’s a warehouse but i call it home,” as they reached the door he moved to take the key out of his pocket. “in we go,”
once they arrived, jisung scanned the place with wide eyes. when they entered, jisung stood there, not touching anything, still shaking lightly, clinging to his stuff as if his life depended on it.
jaemin made his way through the small warehouse, laying down his shotgun and bag by what he called “the living room”. it wasn't the most comfortable place in the world, obviously, but he made sure to furnish it. there was a small dining table, chairs, a two-person couch, a coffee table, and a radio system in the corner, that he had scavenged from an abandoned humvee a while back.
all in all, it was one of several places he called home.
in the corner, there were two makeshift rooms with walls made of metal sheets he had dragged in from the outside. one of them was his. and the other was for storage, but with a little bit of moving and elbow grease, it'd make a decent room for jisung, he thought.
“you can make yourself comfortable. i'll prepare the room for you in a bit,” he said entering the small kitchen area, where a tiny gas stove sat, along with several water containers. “you thirsty?”
“n-no, sir, i’m fine, t-thank you…” said jisung, shaking his head slightly.
he kept his distance, still not ready to sit down or do anything other than stare at his back, eyebrows knitted. so, he just stood there, pressed against the wall like some kind of wild animal, staring at the really nice place he had.
“no need for ‘sir’. this ain’t the army. we're all the same here,” jaemin sat down at the table, with a cup of water in his hand. “you sure you don't want anything? i think i still have a twinkie somewhere in the cooler, you can have it if you want. not big on sweets, to be honest,”
he quietly drank more water, noticing just how quiet jisung was. then, jaemin got up making his way towards the extra room, opening the door and dragging out a box of rations from the inside.
“there's a mattress in there,” he said. “it's not the best ever but it'll do until i can get something better, i guess. you can set it up however you want,”
“o-okay… but really, i’m fine...” said jisung, opening a small smile.
he entered the separate room, nodding (it was almost another bow) to jaemin, not making a sound, looking around the pieces of metal and other objects left behind.
jisung placed his backpack close to the mattress, sitting down and taking off his shoes, to stare at the bruises around his feet for walking so much without any breaks. he opened his bag and took out a dirty teddy bear from there, placing it over the mattress.
jaemin stared at him, before looking away.
“i’ll leave you to it,” he muttered, and disappeared out of jisung’s line of sight.
time inside the warehouse passed fast than jisung had expected, mainly because he was alone for most of it. the loneliness hurt the same, but the comfort of having a bed, and the closest thing to an actual house made up for it. he didn’t dare to leave the separate room he slept in, only when he was sure na jaemin had already left.
little by little, he’d clean the warehouse and make sure dinner or lunch was always waiting for him when the man arrived. with the things he had found jisung managed to make delicious single plates for himself, and when jaemin arrived while he was cooking, he’d finish it as fast as possible and hide again, far too shy to start a conversation without sounding like an idiot.
the most they said to each other was good morning or good night and that’d be it. jisung didn’t hate living in there. it was nice, and na jaemin was polite and quiet, too. it was perfect.
two weeks passed like a second.
jaemin easily adapted to not being completely alone.
jisung stayed in his own corner most, if not all, of the time, so he didn't have much contact with him, but at least he didn't slice his throat during his sleep.
although everything inside the warehouse was fine, the outside definitely wasn't.
the undead were migrating again, hoards of undead carrying themselves through the street. soon enough it wouldn't be safe to leave the warehouse, and the food reserves wouldn't last for long. it’s a hard decision, but it’s their only real option for survival.
jaemin knocked on jisung's door softly that evening, after he returned from another patrol.
“park. we need to talk about something, do you have a moment?”
jisung opened the door in less than a second, running his fingers through his hair so he didn’t look messy.
“y-yes?” asked jisung right away, opening a smile. “did i do something wrong?”
jisung looked scared again. even through his fake smile, jaemin could tell. it was as if he expected jaemin to snap and kick him out. he would never do something like that. he was starting to trust him, after all. and besides, he’d had worse roommates before and had done nothing alike.
“don’t worry. you've done nothing wrong, park,” jaemin reassured him. “it's just, we're gonna have to leave this safe house for now,.it's not gonna be safe to live here soon enough. not for a while, at least,”
“oh,” let out jisung. “and when are we leaving? Now?”
“as soon as possible,” said jaemin. “preferably before nightfall. that’s when they're most active,” he pointed to his room with his thumb. “i've already packed so, if you need help, just say the word, ok?”
“i-i’ll start packing right now, then...! i don’t want to bother you… but thank you for the offer,” said jisung awkwardly, in a busan dialect.
before he could stop herself he bowed once more, going back to his room and grabbing as much of his belongings he could at once, already shoving it inside his bag.
jaemin walked away towards the kitchen area to finish packing. as he packed up the mres and what was left of their canned goods, he heard a beeping coming from the radio system.
he stopped, tensing up – it’s morse code.
he shifted towards the radio, picking up a pen and paper and jotting down what he heard. coordinates. the words 'safe zone' and 'a strong friend'. there were still remnants — there were still people out there. his heart squeezed in his chest.
he ran towards jisung’s room, a wide smile on his face.
“park, i have good news!” he said excitedly.
“mh? what is it?” jisung asked, surprised by his change of behavior.
“i picked up a radio transmission,” said jaemin, his eyes glimmering with hope, something he thought he had lost ages ago. “there's still an army, or at least, remnants of it. either way, who knows, this might be a permanent staying place!”
jaemin hadn't been this excited since god knows when. if he were to be completely honest, the only thing keeping him going was the will to live. his hopes and dreams had been crushed months ago, along with any faith in humanity. but this, this was more than an opportunity. it was a god-sent chance for a new life; one surrounded by the only family he had had in years.
“that’s great!” said jisung, smiling sweetly at him, zipping up his backpack, having managed to put all of his things in there. he turned around to put on his shoes, knowing damn well his feet would not be happy about it. “but what about this place? are you just going to leave it behind?”
“yeah, i have a few places like this one, a bunch of safe hoses in different areas,” he explained, leaning against the doorway. “whenever a place gets hot i move. be that heat produced by zombies, humans, or just general weather danger, i'm always ready,” he sent jisung a confident smile. “never hurts to be prepared, i guess. but anyways, whenever you're ready, tell me, i have everything else by the door,”
“oh, i’m ready, sir…” said jisung, stumbling to get up, tucking some strands of hair behind his ear, and tossing his backpack over his shoulder.
jaemin led the way to the door, opening it slightly, to check for danger, gun in hand. seeing nobody and nothing outside he opened it completely, checking the perimeter. safe. he checked his map, seeing that they were 13 kilometers away. it was a week-long trip, if they were lucky.
“we're going to take the safe roads, but i need you to be on guard, ok?” jaemin asked. “i know you don't have any gun training, so here,” he handed jisung a large, sheathed bowie knife. “in case you need it, you know. just stab anything that gets too close,”
jisung was hesitant, but he held it, ignoring the way his hands shook, smiling positively at him—to try and be useful.
“alright…” he mumbled staring at the knife in hands.
he trailed after jaemin, tense because of the silence. jisung had always been a quiet boy, that is true, but whenever he went to school, he either talked on the phone with his best friend or listened to music. jisung wondered if jaemin would like to talk… but he only bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to start a conversation without seeming desperate.
jaemin, on the other hand, didn't mind it as much, but he felt the uneasiness emanating from his new companion. he thought for a second, still very much paranoid.
“so park,” he started, attempting to break the ice. “where are you from?”
jisung actually looked around, surprised jaemin had talked to him after two whole weeks of complete silence between the two of them.
“busan,” said jisung. “i... still have a bit of an accent. what.. what about you?”
“i did notice it a little bit,” jaemin said, chuckling lightly. “me? oh, i was born in boseong, but i was raised here in seoul, used to go there every summer, though,”
“that’s cool. you fit seoul,” jisung said, then made a face. “not like... c-chaotic seoul, but you know, uh, o-old seoul! not that you’re old… i mean, um.. how old are you?” he asked using formal speech this time around, scared he had offended him.
jaemin laughed softly, a wide smile across his face.
he liked this.
“it’s okay, park, i got what you meant,” he said, lying because truthfully, he didn't. “well i'm 20, turning 21 in august this year. no need for formalities, just treat me casually,”
“it’s kind of weird, though. i’m not used to treating people informally unless they’re my age…” said jisung, scratching his left arm. “well, um, happy very early birthday!”
“oh, c'mon, i'm not that much older than you, you said you were 19 right?” he said., noticing that the streets were awfully devoid of corpses. “thank you very much. i'd invite you to the party, but with the current state of affairs, i doubt that there's any planner available,”
“i’ll bring you a cake regardless,” said jisung, smiling a bit at him, knowing it’d be impossible to do so. it’d be nice to have a party, even if it’s only the two of them and a drawing of a cake. after all, he doubted he’d be able to find the necessary ingredients to make one.
they walked for hours. nothing really happened. they were lucky not to bump into the undead. after a while, the conversation ended in comfortable silence.
as the sun set, jaemin led them to a small standalone garage. he picked the lock precisely and opened it, revealing a big space filled with absolutely nothing. perfect for them to spend the night.
“seems like a nice spot, hm? we can make a small fire outside and we're golden here,” jaemin plopped down his bag, in dire need of rest. “i know you're a pretty good cook but, you think you can do anything with this?”
he opened the food portion of the bag, showing little more than cans of beans, mushrooms, and corn. jisung stared at the ingredients, biting his lips.
“hm… i guess i could try doing korean succotash but, like… a version without most of the original ingredients,” he sat down, grabbing the ingredients, analyzing all of them.
jaemin's face turned to a smile, happy that he wouldn't have to eat another mre, despite not knowing what a succotash was. it’d didn’t really matter to him. if he’d learned something about jisung in those two weeks, was that he made some mean dishes.
“that sounds great,” he encouraged the other. “where did you learn to cook?”
jisung flushed, “ah, well, i’ve always been a picky eater, so i made my own food since i was 11...”
“11, huh. that’s impressive,” jaemin moved closer to him. “now me? i can’t really cook. i seem to burn everything i try to make, which isn’t ideal, right. I don’t know how, but i’m a goddamn disaster,”
jisung started a fire outside, having fun with the ingredients. he did his magic while occasionally glancing at jaemin.
“it’s not that hard...” said jisung. “you should take baby steps. i’ll find a way to teach you, so you don’t have to survive on mres when alone,”
“yeah, that'd be nice,” he said, as he watched jisung work his skilled fingers on the food, amazed by it. “don't know how good of a student i'll be but i'm willing to try,”
“i’m a patient teacher, don’t worry...” he smiled, stirring the food over the fire, shaking the can. after a few minutes watching over the water so it wouldn’t burn, it looked great. not great to jisung standards, of course, but something they could deal with for tonight. “there you go. dinner is served, sir,”
jaemin pulled out two plastic plates and cutlery. “here, serve yourself, the chef always eats first,”
“n-no, it’s fine! you eat first. please,” jisung said, pushing the food his way.
“i insist, c'mon, you need to eat,” jaemin insisted in a gentle tone. “by the look of things it seems you're more tired than me so eat and relax,”
jisung clicked his tongue, not wanting to argue.
he took a bit of food, putting it on his plastic plate, not really hungry to eat that much. he watched as jaemin savored the succotash like it’d be his last meal on earth. he ate slowly, almost hearing his mother’s voice reprimanding him for eating so little. he cleaned the corner of his lips, not looking at jaemin. it wasn’t his best recipe but it was ok.
jisung laid back a bit, resting his back against the garage walls.
“is it good...?” he asked, softly.
“park, you have no idea how much your food has saved my life,” jaemin said.
jisung laughed awkwardly, happy to hear it, almost preening at the honest comments, after all that time alone and cooking to himself.
“i’m glad...” he whispered, soft and shy, not minding the way jaemin ate like a messy child. “since you’ve asked me not to be formal, um, please don’t call me park. it makes you sound like you don’t like me,”
jaemin put more food for himself, taking a sip from his canteen. “jisung, then. sorry about it, i kind of got used to the whole last name thing. now it's just force of habit,”
jisung shrugged because he didn’t mind it that much. but it’d be nice to act like they were closer. it sounded more comforting hearing jaemin say his name.
“um… would you like to play a game?”
“what kind of game?”
“mm.. the questions game, maybe? it’s silly but fun,” jisung shrugged, playing with his hair.
jaemin put down his empty plate, crossing his arms, “you start,”
jisung jutted his lip out, eyes darting up as he thought, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “starting with questions from the past is kind of hurtful...” he mumbled more to himself than him, speaking in aegyo. “mmm.. what’s your favorite color?”
“tough question,” jaemin massaged his chin as if he had a long beard. “but i'd have to say it's probably yellow. now for my question,” jaemin thought for a second about simple questions like his. “what's your favorite animal?”
“mm... bunnies! they’re stinky but very cute. i’ve always wanted to have one,” said jisung. “do you have a lucky number?”
jaemin laughed softly at his response. “i like the number 7, it's basic but it's pretty cool,” he took a second to think again. “what's your favorite food?”
“hoeddeok! ahh, it’s delicious. i miss making pancakes,” jisung was quick to answer, gesturing all too much as he got a bit excited, before hopping in place, turning to stare at him with bright eyes. “what was your favorite subject in school? mine was science!”
jisung's childlike wonder was a great change of pace from his usual routine of silence and killing the undead. it’s distracting – like they’re in another world, safe from the threats lingering just outside.
“was never a big fan of school in general, to be honest,” jaemin said scratching the top of his head, having put his beret over his knee. “but the one i liked the most was probably math. hmm if you could have any power what would it be?”
“super-strength,” jisung stared at the fire, shrugging, slightly embarrassed, feeling his face burn a little. “physical and mental. i’m not very good at defending myself, be it from undead or just… mean people,” he laughed it out, awkwardly. “what’s your motto?”
“my motto? now that, jisung, is a great question,” jaemin questioned himself for a bit before spouting. he had never thought of it before. “i'd say it's something along the lines of trust your gut, no matter what, how about you? what's your slogan?”
“it’s very silly...” jisung looked down, playing with his hands. he flushed an intense shade of red as he spoke softly, accent slipping through again. “step by step, day by day… never forget how wildly capable you are,”
“well that... is a very strong motto,” jaemin let out with a smile. “those are very much words to live by,”
“i guess so. it’s motivating and comforting,” shrugged jisung, embarrassed. “what did you do.. um... for fun, before all of this?”
“well, uh i wasn’t really a 'fun' guy,” jaemin shuffled his feet embarrassed. “but i used to collect rare coins, i know it's boring, but i liked it,” he poked the fire, churning the coals around. “well, how about you, did you have any hobbies?”
“i was a trainee. i didn’t have a lot of time for hobbies, really…” said jisung, scratching his cheek. “but i guess singing and dancing were my hobbies,”
“so you wanted to he an idol? i heard that was really hard to be a trainee, is it true?”
“yes, but i wasn’t all that good, to be honest,” said jisung with a sad huff. “15 days of intense training so we get a weekend off. plus school and everything… my mother hated it,” he remembered how she’d try to stop him from going. “were you with them when this all started? your parents, i mean,”
jaemin’s face shut off, darting his eyes down.
“no, not really,” he took another sip from his little canteen. “my mom died two years before, you know, all of this, and my father... i've never actually met him,”
“oh… i’m so s-sorry i asked…” jisung crossed his legs, looking down, avoiding his eyes.
“it’s alright, kid. i’ve had my time to grieve,” jaemin shrugged. “were you, with your parents?”
jisung coughed, vivid memories of the day the end of the world arrived. all the overwhelming emotions of the day came back and he twisted his nose, trying not to cry.
he said, “i... i was at school, actually. never made it back home. did you… w-were you alone all of this time?”
“i see, sorry to hear that,” jaemin’s soft, comforting smile vanished being reminded of his past, all of it swirling violently in his head. “n-no, i had a group. a long time ago,”
“ah, me too…” jisung let out, nodding, assuming his situation was similar to hers: that he had been kicked out or decided to leave. “i hope they’re doing ok,”
jaemin closed off, a heavy weight pressed in his shoulders. his heart was struck with grief, and he could feel it tugging on him. his eyes stayed glued on the fire.
“yeah, i hope they're resting easy now,” he whispered.
jisung’s eyes widen as his head snapped at the other’s direction. he covered his mouth, looking away, embarrassed at what he said and just… heartbroken for him.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered quickly, bowing a bit for his lack of tact. he should’ve assumed something of the sort must’ve happened as well.
jaemin shook his head lightly, using a rod to play with the fire.
“it’s okay, there was no way you'd know, it's okay,” he looked at him smiling softly.
“still… it must’ve been hard,” said jisung, unsure of what to do with himself now, wishing he could pet his knee or something, but not wanting to invade his personal bubble.
“of course, it was,” jaemin said kindly. “but that's life, we deal with it however we can and move on,” he put down the stick, grabbing his canteen once more. “how about you? mind me asking why you left yours?”
he nodded to what he had said.
frankly, jisung had the luck to never see the death of a close friend firsthand. he had been separated from his best friend right when it all began and stayed alone for a while before finding his group at the start of this year.
“i…” said jisung, hesitant, unsure of what to say. “i had to leave. t-the leader and i didn’t get along anymore…”
jaemin tapped on the other’s knee. there was more to it than what the other had told him, but he knew not to ask about it. the past was better left alone.
“well, guess we both have horrible past experiences, huh?” he made a face.
“i guess so...” he laughed awkwardly, hugging his knees. jisung closed his hands in fists, turning to him waiting for a fist bump. “well, let’s hope for better experiences in the future, jaemin-ah!”
jaemin chuckled at her words, amused by his hopefulness.
“yeah, let's,” he said smiling as he bumped their fists gently. “to a better life,” he raised his canteen.
jisung raised a fake glass, cheering in silence, a big smile on his face.
to a better life, indeed.