Chapter Text
“Welcome in.”
Your mouth moved before you could fully process the chime of the automatic door— a mechanical, dazed response you had instinctually memorized. It was your first day working at a brand-new corner store, but the experience was far from new to you.
A rugged breath left your mouth as you pushed yourself up from the cheap stool underneath you, forcing yourself upright in the name of the store’s no sit policy. Four years ago you might have complained, but now it was something you were used to. Even so, you found it difficult to keep your shoulders from slumping, the day weighing heavily on your tired mind as the end of your shift drew near. You knew for sure what you had to deal with today was nowhere close to what you were put through a few years ago, but for some reason, it felt pretty damn close to it.
At 17, you started working at your first job in a convenience store. It was only your first day, but whatever god was watching over you decided they couldn't give less of a shit and slapped you with the most difficult shift you've experienced to date. One to five customers would come in at a time, every 20 minutes you needed to clean up a mess in one of the aisles, and you broke up at least 6 fights over the low-stock discounted items. Back then, you were certain the old lady who owned the store was in cahoots with the devil himself after she scheduled you to work the one day her store was having a flash sale. You would’ve quit if it weren't for that wicked senior stroking your ego, telling you what a natural you were, and asking if you were sure it was your first job after the good job you did…
Three years of working at that store flew by, and you became fond of the laid-back work style that came with the job. You hardly ever experienced any hardship, having a busy day every month or so due to random sales. Part-time became full-time, and your pay increased quite a bit more than you would have expected. The old lady was always strict on you, but after such a pay raise, you could only assume she had a little soft spot for you. You'd be lying if you said that cranky grandma hadn't grown on you a little, too.
It was about a year ago now that it all came crashing down— literally. A meteor had its sights set on City Z, your home, and you were sure you would have kicked the bucket that day if it weren’t for the hero who cracked that piece of shit rock open. You remember it so vividly; the silent acceptance you felt as you watched that blazing red rock rushing towards your city, prepared to see it all vanish before your eyes, but it never happened. One moment, you're watching a meteor barreling down towards you, then the next you're watching as it erupts into a brilliant blue explosion, blinding you in all its glory. And sure, the debris from the space rock still crashed into City Z, wrecked both your shitty apartment and the corner store you worked at, but you saw that as a damn good trade to keep your life intact.
Though apparently, a whole lot of people didn't seem to have the same mindset as you. The hero received endless bashing from the public after the incident, blaming him for the damage as well as accusing him of tricking the system to climb the ranks faster. You'd never felt so confused and angry at the internet before as you scrolled endlessly through your phone, reading hateful rants while you were sprawled out on a stiff motel bed the night after it all happened. This guy saved your lives just for you to talk shit about him online?! And how could you say he's cheating the system if he punched through a meteor?! A meteor for cripes sake! You remember getting no sleep at all that night, too pissed off to even try getting comfortable on that poor excuse of a mattress. You promised yourself then, that if you ever met the hero who saved your life, you'd treat him like he saved your friggin’ life!
You moved back in with your parents for a bit after that to save some money, giving yourself enough time to get back up on your own two feet while City Z was being built back up. And after 5 months of a couple of part-time jobs, you departed from City B and headed straight back into what’s become known as one of the most dangerous cities on Earth. Your parents were understandably opposed to your decision, not wanting their only child to be susceptible to an untimely death. If it weren't for Grandma contacting you about a new building— you had started calling her that about two years into the job, and she never told you to cut it out, so it kind of stuck—, you might have listened.
There was something other than Grandma that was drawing you back to this godforsaken city though, but you couldn't bring yourself to put a name to it. Maybe you liked chasing thrills, so the thought of running into a monster every once in a while excited you. Maybe it was the fact you'd lived here alone for a good few years, and you liked the independence that came with it. Or maybe, it was just so you had a bigger chance at running into that hero…
Naaahhh… You were a little desperate to meet and thank him, but not that desperate. The other reasons were plausible, but they didn’t really explain the deep pull you felt towards the city.
Now here you are, a couple of weeks after moving back into City Z, working under Grandma once again, in yet another convenience store. The only big difference that stood out heavily from the old shop was the brand-new sheen the place had. Everything was shinier and better, and you were surprised to see the old cheapskate had put any extra amount of money into the place at all.
The busted old cash register you had to do your own math for, only good for keeping tabs on customer accounts, turned into a fully automated monster of a machine. Not only do you no longer have to wrack your brain calculating the correct amount of change as quickly as possible before a customer flips their lid, but you also don't need to worry about keeping inventory and various other bullshit things you hated doing! This glorious piece of technology just does your whole damn job for you! You'd never been so happy to start working before in your whole damn life!
But, there was just one, itty-bitty little problem…
The store’s location… was right outside of City Z’s infamous “Ghost Town.”
A total of three customers walked in today. Three! In the span of a 10-hour shift! Not only are you running the place alone— which you wouldn't usually mind— but you're sitting on your ass most of the damn day, staring at the sliding glass doors, going crazy wondering when a customer, or even a monster will show up! You’d prefer either at this point!
You can't even enjoy being on your phone at work either, always having the feeling you're doing something wrong and about to get busted for it, even though there's no one but you in the whole building— better yet, the only person in a 2-mile radius of the store, and that's you being generous! Grandma would let you have some screentime, wouldn't she? If she saw the situation you were in…
…
Probably not.
You breathed out slowly, trying to claw yourself out of your own inner turmoil and bring yourself back to reality. It’s not like you to get so bent out of shape over something like this. Do you really hate being alone that much? Sheesh.
You blinked your tired eyes as you heard footsteps approaching the counter, quickly remembering the customer who had walked in a few minutes after you started spiraling out of control. No more of that, time to tend to your third and probably last customer of the day. You can't wait to go home to your now slightly less shitty apartment…
“Did you find everything alright?” Your chipper tone came naturally despite the heaviness weighing on your mind, and you could feel that fabricated smile slipping onto your face with ease as you took each item that the customer slid your way for you to scan.
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” You heard his voice just barely over the beeps of your scanner, a bored, slightly distracted tone that you understood all too well. He didn't seem too keen on talking. You weren't complaining though. You didn't think you'd be able to hold a decent conversation with how exhausted you were.
You kept silent as you scanned and bagged up the customer's items, taking mild interest in his purchases. Precut assorted vegetables, split chicken breast, soy sauce, and sesame oil… and a bunch of bananas. A stir-fry, huh? That sounds really good right now, actually… or maybe you're just hungry after eating jackshit all day.
You heard a jostle of change as the man got out his wallet, your eyes glued to the register’s screen as you readied it for a cash transaction.
“Do you have an account with us? If not, I could sign you up so you can start saving on later purchases.” You spoke cheerily, the sound grating on your own ears. You didn't even bother pulling up the separate screen, knowing the answer already. Who the hell is going to make an account for a store all the way out here? You sure as hell wouldn't.
“Don’t got an account, and I'm not too interested in setting one up right now either. Sorry.” His answer came without the usual agitation you'd receive for that widely unwanted question, or even any real emotion at all, so you took it easily.
“No need to apologize over it! Your total is on the screen here. Will that be cash or card?” You asked the question more out of instinct than necessity. He’s already pulling the money out of his wallet, so you didn't find any point in waiting to open the register. He didn't reply as he extended his arm to hand over the cash, the action self-explanatory in itself without the use of needless chitchat. Before he could place the money in your hand though, he paused.
“Actually, I just remembered… I used to have an account at the old location I think. Knew the name sounded familiar… Uh, would that still be active even though the place was trashed?” You perked up a bit at that, eyes focusing now on the man in front of you before widening slightly.
You didn't really know what you were expecting when you got a good look at him, but it wasn’t a clean-shaven head and a baggy hoodie with the word “Oppai,” as well as something a few would find distasteful, plastered across his chest. You held a snicker back at the sight, your gaze quickly shifting upwards to avoid staring as well as to wipe the small smirk you could feel tugging at the corner of your mouth. It’d been a while since you'd seen such a ridiculous piece of clothing…
His eyes and eyebrows were a dark shade of brown- almost black, and his expression was slightly curious, but there was an unbearable amount of boredom hidden beneath it. It was a bit sad, actually. Has this guy ever had a fun day in his life?
You tried to focus on remembering this possible non-stranger. You worked a shit-ton of shifts at the old place, were pretty well acquainted with the customers who had accounts with the store, but you could not for the life of you remember this guy. The worst part? He felt so damn familiar! You swear you've met, or have at least seen this baldy around somewhere!
“Eh… Miss?” His slightly concerned tone surprised you out of your thoughts, and you blinked rapidly as an embarrassed flush crept its way up your neck and onto your face. Shit! How long were you staring for?! Get a hold of yourself!
“I’m sorry! That was pretty rude of me… I used to work at that last location, so I was just…” Your words died in your mouth as you realized the implications of what you were about to say, and how it'd probably come across as even more rude compared to what you just did..! You can't just tell an old customer you forgot about them! Especially the ones you were buddy-buddy with! Does it even matter if you forgot him since he obviously forgot you, too?!
You cleared your throat. “Anyway, I’m sure the account is still running as long as you didn't disable it. Could I get the name, phone number, or email attached to it?” You put on one of your nicest smiles, willing him to forget about where that conversation was headed. Thankfully, you're apparently dealing with either the most forgetful or uncaring guy you've probably ever met, because the mixture of concern and slight curiosity that he was once showing was smothered down after you presented him with that question. You inwardly sighed with relief, trying to get yourself to relax a bit. So much for about four years of experience. You can feel it all slipping through your fingers after just one bad day...
“The name under it should be Saitama.”
You blink.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You laugh sheepishly, flashes of jet-black hair and a blue jumpsuit entering your mind. There’s no way you heard that correctly—
“Saitama.”
…
”Y-You’re Saitama?!”