Servamp Oneshots! (Request TEMPORARY CLOSE)

Tsubaki x Reader

"I promise to you; I will protect you," his voice still rings in my head. Every time I hear his soothing and gentle voice, the image of his corpse lays before me. His eyes are wide open, completely devoid of the glimmer I was hoping for. "Wait for me, alright?"

Gasping, I sit up in my bed. I pant quickly, recalling the memory that had haunted me ever since my brother's death. He had promised to protect me when I was younger, but it soon became clear that this would only happen in my dreams. He was diagnosed with cancer a few months after our promise, and the doctors had all said the same thing: he was going to die soon. Even though he was able to accept his inevitable fate, I couldn't. I was stubborn back then, and my brother seemed to like that.

Right now, I am living alone. Although I appreciate the serenity of the atmosphere, it also exudes loneliness that is hard to ignore. My heart swells and flutters like butterflies, but I do my best to ignore this sensation. After shunning the feeling, I think about what I'm going to do. It's the weekend, so I might as well make good use of my time... doing what, exactly?

"Hmm... I'll decide after I have breakfast." I can't seem to think, and so I change into some simple clothes: a (f/c) shirt and jean-shorts. I slowly walk downstairs and amble to my kitchen. When I open the refrigerator, I see that I am nearly out of eggs and vegetables. I frown a little; it looks like I know what I'm going to do today. I close the refrigerator and quickly jog to my closet, where all my sweaters hang neatly in a line.

Putting one on, I go out through the front door, making sure to lock the door in the process. I tap my shoes into a more comfortable position, and then start walking down the sidewalk to the nearest convenience grocery store. The sidewalk is nearly silent with the exception of the breeze rustling the leaves and bushes around me. The sound lulls my ears, and I feel more relaxed.

When I reach the store, I pause at the entrance. Just as I am about to push the door open, I feel as though somebody has their eyes on me. When I turn around, though, nobody is seen. I tilt my head curiously to the side. "It must be my imagination..."

Dismissing the strange feeling on my back, I go into the convenience store and browse the different types of eggs. I grab the Grade A eggs, and then go to the section of the store where they hold vegetables. I pick up a few broccoli and cauliflower, and then walk to the cashier.

"Good morning," the cashier nods in greeting, and I nod back whilst murmuring a quick greeting back to her. The lady scans the products and hands the bag to me as I hand her cash.

"Thank you." I wave the cashier goodbye, and then walk out. The whole entire walk back home is quiet, but it's not necessarily uncomfortable. In fact, I do enjoy this kind of silence. Along the way, I hum a familiar tune to myself: This Land is Your Land. The last time I have sang this must have been sometime in my elementary-school years. Humming it brings many memories into my mind. The memories of when I had fun with my classmates, and when my parents and brother would come to my singing concerts.

Unfortunately, all of that is only a fleeting memory now. I sigh to myself, and shake my head to release the images from my mind. When I do, I find myself standing in the doorway of my house. I scramble around for my key, and then unlock and open the door. I quickly go in and place the bags on the kitchen island. I then pause to mull over the different possibilities of food I can make.

Maybe I should just stick to fried rice? Fried rice is normally a very basic recipe; even I can make it like a better amateur; I wouldn't necessarily consider myself professional though. Shrugging, I grab the newly-bought ingredients and start making some use out of them. I cut the vegetables... a little bit too fast. The knife accidentally slips off my finger and cuts the tip of my finger. Blood seeps out of the minor wound, but I still panic, quickly putting down the knife and running to the sink to wash the wound off.