"Is he really alive?"
"That's impossible, you know, right?"
"I know! I saw him burn to death with my own two eyes! I did it with my own two hands!"
"Chill, bro. I'm just asking. Boss will kill us if we don't get this right."
"Shut up. Hey! Hey! That's the guy! He's with him!! Camera, camera! Snap it!"
"I'm doing it, jerk!"
"They're gone!"
"I got it! Look! It's clear!"
"Send it to the boss."
Saint and Fighter had just arrived at the supermarket. They had run out of food and snacks, so they decided it was time for a grocery shopping trip. Fighter was excited about the prospect of getting new ingredients for his next recipe. He had been improving in the kitchen, mastering easy dishes with ease and now eager to challenge himself with more difficult recipes to satisfy his one and only customer, Saint.
Saint, who couldn't cook, was grateful to have an amateur chef for a roommate in Fighter. Since Fighter started cooking for him, Saint no longer ate dinner at his workplace. Whenever Fighter prepared a meal, Saint would eagerly come home to dine with him, which always brought joy to Fighter to see Saint enjoying his cooking. Fighter would even wake up early to make Saint coffee or prepare a simple breakfast. Living with Fighter made Saint feel comfortable in a way he hadn't before; he felt a deep connection and trust with Fighter that he had never experienced with anyone else. Fighter made him feel safe and protected, and Saint was committed to offering the same sense of security to Fighter in return.
"Saint, can I have this?" Fighter excitedly showed Saint a box of chocolates.
"Of course. Whatever you want," Saint smiled sweetly, watching Fighter add the box to their shopping cart.
"Saint, shall we buy... shrimp?" Fighter asked, his eyes fixed on the seafood department.
"Of course," Saint replied.
They headed over to the seafood section, where Saint picked out a good amount of fresh shrimp.
"Saint, and also... butter... garlic... spring onion and... oh, oyster sauce!" Fighter recited the ingredients he needed.
"I can tell you'll be making something delicious," Saint remarked with curiosity.
"It will be really delicious! Come on!" Fighter replied enthusiastically, already looking forward to cooking their next meal together.
Fighter eagerly dragged Saint along to gather the ingredients, holding his wrists gently as they moved through the aisles. Saint couldn't help but smile at Fighter's pure excitement. He quietly observed as Fighter pursed his lips upward and furrowed his eyebrows in concentration while selecting each ingredient. Sometimes Fighter would show him a product for approval, and Saint would respond with an affirming smile.
His world had become more colorful since Fighter entered his life. Saint had rarely gone grocery shopping before; he used to order food or eat out instead. Now, shopping with Fighter was enjoyable and fun. It was a new experience that Saint hadn't anticipated enjoying so much. He felt a warmth spreading across his cheeks, realizing how much he cherished these simple moments with Fighter.
"Saint? Are you feeling alright?" Fighter lightly touched his blushed cheeks.
"Oh? Uh, yeah... yeah," Saint stuttered, flustered by the sudden touch. His heart was now beating uncontrollably.
"You're red," Fighter observed, gently caressing Saint's cheeks with his thumb.
"No, no, no. I'm... I'm fine," Saint faltered, attempting to compose himself. He tried to move away to continue shopping, but Fighter stopped him.
"Wait... Are you perhaps... blushing?" Fighter asked, narrowing his eyes with a playful grin.
"What? No! I... I am not!" Saint protested, his cheeks growing warmer.
"You are!! Oh my Saint, you are!! Look! You are blushing!" Fighter teased as they walked, Saint pushing the cart.
Saint could feel himself blushing even more at Fighter's endearing antics.
Fighter stopped his teasing when he spotted the Wine and Beer section. He left Saint and hurried towards it, with Saint following behind. Fighter discreetly picked out his favorite beer and added it to their cart. Then, he pointed out a specific wine that caught his eye, clearly wanting it. Saint noticed Fighter's interest and decided to purchase it for him. They could enjoy it together sometime later.
They purchased everything they needed and headed straight to the cashier to pay for their items. With four full bags of groceries, they were about to leave the supermarket when a masked man entered, brandishing what looked like a weapon. Fighter quickly noticed and instinctively pushed Saint with the cart outside. A gunshot rang out.
"Fight?! FIGHTER!!"
Saint turned around, only to face a scene of complete terror. Fighter lay on the ground, as if shielding something or someone. The masked man pointed a rifle-like firearm towards anyone still inside the building, with Fighter just a meter away from him. Saint was overcome with fear, dialing the police on his phone as panic spread among the people passing by. Trembling, he prayed desperately for the police to arrive swiftly and rescue them all.
"Fight..." A tear rolled down his cheek.
When Fighter noticed the man with the rifle entering the supermarket, his first instinct was to push Saint completely out of harm's way. Without hesitation, he turned around and dropped to the floor, shielding a mother and her child who were behind him. The mother and child were crying in horror, and Fighter quickly realized the child was injured as he cried out in pain. The gunman fired a shot into the ceiling and then aimed the weapon at everyone inside, causing panic and fear.
Fighter pulled the mother and child into his embrace, trying to comfort them amidst the chaos. Inside, everyone was on the floor, crying for help and terrified. Fighter examined the child's leg and found a long cut on his small left leg.
"What happened?" Fighter asked the mother in a low voice.
"I think he got it from the sides of the shopping cart," the terrified mother explained.
"Calm down. Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Fighter assured her gently. He carefully held the little calf of the child and closed his eyes, trying to focus and calm himself amidst the chaos. He took deep breaths, attempting to channel his healing abilities, but to his surprise, nothing happened. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he opened his eyes, realizing nothing was coming out from his palms. The mother looked on, equally perplexed by Fighter's actions.
In a kneeling position, Fighter raised his hands up while glaring at the gunman. The man gestured for Fighter to stand, and he complied cautiously. They faced each other, the gunman aiming the rifle at Fighter's forehead while Fighter kept his hands in the air, maintaining a steely gaze into the man's eyes.
"Don't do anything stupid, young man," the gunman warned, noticing Fighter's expressionless demeanor.
Fighter smirked at the man, who furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance at his victim's bold response. As the man began to bend his finger to pull the trigger, Fighter acted swiftly. He gripped the barrel of the rifle with both hands, surprising the gunman and causing him to panic. With determined strength, Fighter twisted the barrel and bent it upwards, completely disarming the man and taking control of the situation.
Pushing the gunman towards the door, Fighter used the bent rifle barrel to maneuver him out of the building. Once outside, Fighter swiftly snatched the rifle away and struck the man with it, stunning him. The police, who were on standby, moved in quickly to arrest the assailant.
"Are you alright, sir?" asked an officer, concerned for Fighter's well-being. Fighter winced as he felt pain shoot through his right wrist. The officer gently guided him towards the medics for treatment.
On their way, Saint, tears streaming down his face, stopped them. Fighter halted and was immediately pulled into a hug by the distraught Saint. With Saint crying on his shoulder, Fighter rubbed his back, trying to comfort him despite the pain in his wrist.
"I'm sorry," Fighter murmured softly.
Saint shook his head, holding Fighter tighter in his embrace as he sobbed deeply.
They reached the rescue team, where medics tended to Fighter's injured wrist. Saint sat beside him, holding his left hand for support.
"Stop crying naaa~" Fighter gently untangled his hand from Saint's grasp, cupping Saint's cheeks and wiping away his tears affectionately.
