[ 🫧 ] sᴇᴠᴇɴ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ

vi. heiyaoshi

“Don't look down.”

Heiyaoshi whimpered and stumbled after Cornelius, mind spinning as the thoughts inside it darted around frantically like thousands of fish trapped inside a tiny bowl. He curled a hand over his racing heart.

All he wanted was to find a centrifuge and cell lysis buffer before going straight home, no questions asked. He suspected he would get noticed, maybe chased and/or taken to a research facility, caught on security cameras, etc. Being found by a free-willed human who had the strength to knock out two men his size and forced to follow said human on top of the warehouse was not even remotely on his list of concerns. Oh yeah, and the warehouse he was searching in was apparently burnt down by a crazy kid three years ago.

And now here he was, following this strange human across the roofs of thirty-foot tall (some even taller) buildings. The sun was just about to set, the sky fading from deep blue to bright yellow, a faint breeze brushing Heiyaoshi's nose and making him shiver.

Who is this person? How'd he get here? How did he know I was here? Is he going to hurt me? Where is he taking me? How is he so strong?!

So many questions, all boiling like soup hot enough to burn your tongue. Yet every time he thought of asking, his heart raced, cheeks warmed up, and his throat curled into a knot and trapped all his words inside, and even more questions popped up; What if he gets mad at me? What if I say something wrong? What will he think of me then?

Heiyaoshi gazed at the stranger’s figure of a second, allowing a blue line on his lenses to trade from the top of Cornelius's head to the bottom of his feet. 178 cm, 75.2 kg.

He's really big. . .

“You're kinda quiet,” Cornelius said, shattering Heiyaoshi’s train of thought as if it were thin glass.

“E-Eep!” Heiyaoshi jumped and clutched his bag tighter. Heat rose to his face like steam—perhaps steam from the boiling soup of questions he had. His heart pounded against his chest even harder, like the rapid knocking at the door the day they took his father away.

Cornelius hesitated before smiling slightly. An amused, maybe even a little mocking smile. “You're really jumpy.”

Heiyaoshi looked down at his feet again. The knot in his throat tightened. He made a tiny little nod as if to say “I know”.

Cornelius paused again and continued on his path. He slowed down his pace so he was next to Heiyaoshi this time. “Heiyaoshi. . . right?”
Heiyaoshi nodded, his heart racing again. Cornelius's voice was solid and stable without a hint of anxiety, unlike Heiyaoshi's.

“What were you doing in the warehouse?”

Heiyaoshi clutched the strap of his bag tighter, his shoulders tensing. “I. . . um. . .”

“Hey, you can tell me. I'm not gonna arrest you or anything. I'm not part of The Seven.” Heiyaoshi looked up and his cheeks heated up again when he noticed Cornelius smiling at him—this time not mockingly.

Heiyaoshi sighed and looked away. “U-Um. . . I was looking for f-food,” he lied.

Cornelius frowned. What am I thinking? Of course there's no food in a burnt-down warehouse that stores medical equipment and is only accessible with an ID card.

“There's some food back at my place. My friend makes really good fried rice,” Cornelius responded, to Heiyaoshi’s relief. His heart ached. Bàba made really good fried rice, too. . .

Wait. . . friend?

There's more?

Heiyaoshi glanced around nervously, realized he was falling behind, and quickly scurried back to Cornelius. “C-Can I ask—”