[[ xretrovirus, badmorphinetrip, disarmmywords ]]
Months had crept on since Ren's recovery, daily routines and fresh moments slowly overwhelming his past. Although an entire year hadn't even passed yet since their reunion, Ren's memories of a time without Aoba felt like ages ago; likewise, his memories of being an Allmate felt so distant now that they were almost dreamlike.
Ren was content with this, forging new memories and experiences, even in mundane scenarios such as this. The junk shop was completely empty, and had been all day save for a handful of phone calls in the morning. Haga-san had left for the mainland the previous day, entrusting the shop to Aoba and Ren for a few days so as to not lose business-- and yet, ironically, there wasn't any to be had.
Ren busied himself with rearranging items in the shop, both in the stockroom and in the main area. Organization was important for productivity, he had insisted, though really the task had been a tedious distraction to keep his hands off of Aoba during the long stretches of privacy and boredom.
The familiar chime of a customer walking in rang through the small shop as the door came open, seizing Ren's attention immediately. Despite Aoba being the more experienced sales clerk, and despite the fact that he was currently seated at the front desk and Ren was in the stockroom, Ren still rushed out to greet the visitor.