&; headstrong }(m̶i̶n̶h̶y̶u̶k̶. xii
some moments, he feels so normal that it’s nearly painful. then again, maybe this isn’t so normal after all. everyone has to grocery shop, or at least find food somewhere, but maybe most aren’t eighteen years old, and alone. normal eighteen year old boys likely still have parents that cook for them, and live in their mother’s basement, where they’re pestered about studying instead of playing video games.
but no, jeongguk is alone, and he doesn’t even have his mother’s phone number anymore to call her, and ask her how to be sure which oranges are the best, or which brand of chips she used to get, on the days that were special occasions, since they were terribly unhealthy and she wanted him to stay in shape. still, he’s been shopping and cooking for himself long enough now to be able to survive. most people are too wrapped up in their own lives to think much of him, and he appreciates it.
he stands in the meat department, arms wrapped around himself to fight the chill of the freezers. he looks at the different options, and compares the prices, even though he makes enough money in vanguard to buy whatever he’d like. it doesn’t feel right to spend excessively. he picks up something precut, just so he doesn’t have to make conversation with the butcher, and then turns to pay, and leave, and return home for more time for himself.
instead, he spots a familiar face. if it wasn’t his job to be so familiar with people, he might not remember him, but he places him quickly in memories, in a time when he sported the same green of the dragon protocol does now. xii is supposed to be dead. xii tried to leave, and vanguard left him to die for it, and yet here he is, standing, looking entirely safe and ordinary.
it is so infuriating that jeongguk immediately looks away and storms past him, hoping to get away, and far from xii, and any thoughts of why he made it out, and he didn’t-- why he probably goes by his real name now, and jeongguk is forever protocol-- so protocol that he doesn’t remember the last time someone uttered his real name.