"So that was your old boss?" Niyana asked carefully, her voice low but curious as she leaned against one of the shelves. Changbin, only a half-inch shorter than her but carrying himself with a weight that made him seem bigger, gave a stiff nod. "Yeah... he went out, and that's how I found him. I was sick to my stomach." His stomach twisted at the memory, bile threatening to rise as flashes of his boss's torn face flickered through his head.
Niyana glanced around the stocked shelves, her brows lifting slightly. "It's like a haven in here. You've got food, drinks, supplies... if we could figure out some kind of generator or how to get one, we could have slushies for life."Her attempt at lightness made Changbin blink, caught off guard. She stepped over to the machine, pulled the lever, and let the bright blue raspberry slush liquid pour into a paper cup until it was halfway full. She sipped, her face scrunching up at the sharp, syrupy flavor, but she didn't pour it out. "Not exactly gourmet," she muttered, "but I'll take it."Changbin let out a short laugh through his nose, but it quickly died away. He rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "How're we going to ration this stuff? Since... well, it looks like I'm stuck with you now." He drifted down the aisle, dragging his hand across a row of goods, as if counting them would somehow make the math easier.
"No clue," Niyana admitted. "But I'll figure it out. I'll take the end of the hall or crash behind the register, so you can keep the office. I don't want to take over your spot." She offered him a small smile, though guilt pricked at her for intruding on what was clearly his makeshift home. Changbin immediately shook his head, waving a hand. "Oh no, no, I couldn't let you do that. I pushed some chairs together in the office to make a bed—you should take it. Seriously. I'll be fine out here." His tone was firm, but awkwardness edged every word. "Besides... we can take turns keeping watch. In case the military shows up, or anyone out there who is actually looking for survivors."Silence pressed in after his words, broken only by the faint hum of the slushie machine. Neither of them quite knew what to say next, and it made the air between them heavy. Niyana turned away, drifting through the aisles in search of a distraction.
The cold air from the open fridge washed over her as she bent down, though it was thinning and barely there, pulling out an onigiri wrapped in plastic. From a nearby shelf, she plucked a sausage stick, holding it in her hands like fragile treasures."Guess we're eating like kings," she said softly, almost to herself, but the corner of her mouth lifted just a little. Changbin watched her from the end of the aisle, the tension in his shoulders loosening for the first time since he'd opened that back door.
Changbin reached into the cooler, the air inside already disappointingly warm, and pulled out two plastic cups. There was barely a handful of ice left at the bottom, floating in cloudy water. He glanced at the shelves, then grabbed a pouch of peach tea and tore it open with his teeth.
"Grab me an extra sausage, please," he said over his shoulder as he began pouring. Niyana smiled faintly at his tone—it was casual, almost normal, like he was asking her to pass a pencil in class instead of scavenging for survival. She plucked two sausage sticks from the shelf and tucked another onigiri under her arm, figuring he might want one of those later, too. Changbin poured the amber liquid into the cups until it reached the brim, the faint hiss of air escaping from the pouch the only sound for a moment.
He snapped on the plastic lids, shook the cups slightly to mix the sweetness through, and carried them into the small office. He set them down on the scarred table, arranging them like a proper meal despite their meager appearance. By the time Niyana stepped into the room with her armful of food, it almost looked like a dinner setup—two people about to share something simple but grounding in the middle of chaos. She set the sausages and rice balls down carefully, her hands lingering as if afraid they would all vanish if she moved too quickly."Eventually we'll have to leave, right?" she asked suddenly, her voice soft but heavy, as though speaking the words might draw the outside world closer. Changbin stilled, fingers tightening around the edge of the table. The thought pressed down on him like a weight. Wouldn't they have to? Supplies here could last a while, maybe months if rationed carefully and taken care of, but what about after? Generators, medicines when they ran out—things they couldn't conjure up, no matter how many shelves they emptied.
He thought of the other shops, the houses lined up like silent traps, and shuddered at the memory of the shapes that moved in the shadows outside."Probably," he admitted after a long pause, finally lifting his gaze to hers. "But I don't think we should worry about that until we're sure we need to leave—or we've got a good enough game plan." His voice was steady, though his mind was anything but. He imagined the streets crawling, alleys choked with bodies, all of them faster and hungrier than they should be. Niyana studied him, noticing how his jaw flexed, how his eyes flickered with thoughts he didn't put into words. She didn't push, just nodded slowly, agreeing with him. She pulled her chair closer to the table. "A game plan," she repeated, like the words themselves might give her a sense of security. She unwrapped an onigiri and took a bite, the rice and spicy salmon filling her taste buds quickly. For a fleeting second, the room felt like a dorm cafeteria again. Two students sharing food, talking about plans, laughing about nothing. The illusion lasted only as long as the pounding outside stayed quiet—but for now, it was enough.
Changbin leaned back in the chair, the peach tea cup between his hands, his dark eyes flicking toward her. "So, where are you from?" he asked, voice casual but tinged with curiosity.
The curly-haired brunette blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. After a pause, she brushed a strand of hair from her face and answered, "Los Angeles. What about you?"He hummed softly, the sound low in his throat. "Australia. Brisbane—it's in Queensland."Her lips curved into another smile, warm despite the weight of everything around them. "I've always been curious how people live there. But... I'm terrified of spiders, and I hear kangaroos can be total assholes when they feel like it."That made Changbin chuckle, a genuine laugh that surprised even him. "You're not wrong. Spiders are everywhere—sometimes you don't even notice until they're just... there. And kangaroos? Yeah, they'll fight you if they want to. They're like drunk uncles who never got over their boxing phase."Niyana laughed at that, covering her mouth to muffle the sound.
Her laughter faded into a softer smile as she sipped her drink. They drifted into trading stories—her talking about the endless traffic in LA, palm trees lined up against smoggy skies, and how the city never seemed to sleep. Him describing the heavy heat of Queensland summers, beaches that stretched forever, and the strange comfort of cicadas screaming through the night. The more they talked, the less the silence felt suffocating, and for a brief while, the pounding outside the walls seemed distant. After a comfortable lull, Changbin tilted his head toward her. "Have you started your Korean literature yet?" he asked. Niyana burst out laughing, nearly choking on her sip of tea. "I had one class before the apocalypse hit. Just one. So... not exactly fluent in reading poetry yet." She leaned forward, her grin playful. "But hey, I'm always up to learn. If you want to teach me, that is."Changbin raised a brow, smirking faintly. "You might regret that. I'm a strict teacher.""Good," she shot back, still smiling despite everything. "Then maybe I'll actually remember something."For a fleeting moment, surrounded by canned goods and boarded windows, it felt like they were just two students again—bonding over classes, cultures, and jokes, rather than clinging to survival in a world that had ended.