Chapter Text
An alarm clock blares wildly, causing a bundle of blankets tap around groggily in attempt to shut it off. A head pokes out, eyes squinting with drowsiness, sneering at the clock. A hard punch to the top of the little screeching machine is enough to cease the noise. Sighing quietly, the blankets settle back down into bed. The small old room in which they're located is filled with silence shortly after.
6:50 A.M.
It should be illegal to have a class this early in the morning, the blankets thought. Identifying the bundle as an actual person, Nicholas D. Wolfwood was the name he goes by. The 18 year-old that was plucked fresh out of high school at 16 and is halfway done with his college degree. He didn't pride himself on excelling at school, considering his behavior almost detained him from graduating early. It also didn't take much to impress Maycity Community College. Coming from a crummy background, this was probably the most exciting thing in his life, and he was sick of it already. Every morning he went to class early, and by the time he was out he made his way to his church. The church he worked at doubled as an orphanage, which he grew up in. The only problem was that it was all the way in December. He didn't really mind the distance, he liked driving his hand-me-down motorcycle to work and it was where he spent most of his free time, if he wasn't at a local bar playing his guitar for some pocket change. Money is hard to come by when you work at a ministry.
Sitting up from his rickety bed, Wolfwood exhaled the biggest sigh he could muster before rubbing his eyes at an attempt to feel more awake. Slowly stepping out of his bed, he dragged his feet on the floor as he made his way into his bathroom. His morning routine consisted of making sure he didn't look like he hadn't slept more than 5 hours, which rarely happened. As he brushed his teeth, he scanned himself in the mirror. He needed to shave some plucky hairs on his chin, but today was not the day for that. He needed a haircut too, his sideburns were getting a little too long. Wetting his hands, he pressed his bedhead into a more presentable form. Finishing his morning routine, he stepped out of his bathroom and started rummaging through a pile of clothes near the foot of his bed. He slipped on a black turtleneck and some dark skinny jeans. Low effort gothic, his favorite. After putting on a pair of slip-ons, he sprayed himself with cheap cologne to make up the fact he skipped a shower. Grabbing his guitar, his book bag, and the rest of his belongings, he muttered a quick prayer before heading out the door.
Climbing down the old steps of the dorm building, he stifled a yawn against the back of his hand. The dorm he lived in wasn't all that spacious, but it was enough for him to sleep in every night. The church he works at was nice enough to pay for his housing fees, and he was grateful for that. The lady that ran the church, Melanie, is very fond to him, she was practically his mother. She never hesitated to ask him to come back to the orphanage to stay, and as much as he'd love to, he couldn't image what that must be like. He could do everything in his power to keep the kids happy, but some of that would be lost if he lived with them again. They were all like his siblings, or cousins, or sometimes his own kids and he knew how much they needed a role-model to look up to. When he was younger, he couldn't grasp the concept of there being an entire world out there for him to indulge in. Now, he can't fathom not being aware of all that humanity has left for him to acknowledge. He supposes that's a reason why he decided to study his faith professionally. Wolfwood wasn't the type of guy who had an affinity for anything else, really, so this was easy for him.
Upon exiting the building, he was rewarded with a cool morning breeze. Early August was always kind with morning weather, and it was his lucky day since it was also cloudy. Breathing in the crisp air, he started making his way towards campus. His stomach grumbled. He could really go for some breakfast. Checking his wristwatch, he figured he could stop by his favorite coffee shop on the way there.
It was conveniently placed in between his dorm and campus, making him a regular. He wasn't fond of making his own food, he didn't really have the time or energy to do any of it. It's not like he was a good cook anyways.
Stepping into the little shop, a familiar face greeted him with a perfect customer-service smile.
"Good morning, Father Wolfwood."
He rolled his eyes.
"Morning, Livio."
"The usual?"
"Yes, please."
With a playful nod, Livio started making his order right away. Wolfwood had known Livio since he started going to college. They had the same professor, so, they often did homework together. Well, as much homework as you can do by reciting and analyzing bible verses. Wolfwood knew his faith like the back of his hand, making his classmates naturally gravitate to him. He didn't mind pointing out people's mistakes either. With Livio, though? That guy was clueless. He was almost convinced he enrolled in the wrong class and was too shy about getting switched out. He can't blame him, Biblical Studies doesn't sound too hard in the beginning until you have to memorize 31,173 verses.
Rubbing his eyes, Wolfwood realized he still wasn't fully awake. He was grateful for the fact that there weren't many customers in the morning, or else he'd be forced to sit down and wait for his order like a normal person. Instead he leaned onto the counter and watched Livio prepare his coffee and food. There was a sense of trust in how perfect he had his order down. He really was his ride-or-die in these trying times. Coming back with his order, Livio punched in some numbers into the cash register and looked back at Wolfwood. He rummaged through his pockets and his heart sank.
"Oh, crap- I forgot my wallet in my room."
His stomach growled in anticipation. He didn't have time to run back for it... He could always do the dishes-
"I'll pay for it."
Both Livio and Wolfwood look around to find a sprightly blond man with money in his hand. He seemed... familiar, somehow.
"Wh- Really?"
"Yeah! I can't stand to hear your stomach rumble anymore. It's fine, really."
He smiled sincerely before giving Livio the exact change for his food. Wolfwood looked at him with the most bewildered expression he could muster at this hour. As quickly as he introduced himself, he was gone, back at his table. Livio and Wolfwood looked at each other, searching for answers in each other's expressions. They were both clueless.
Wolfwood had to know who the hell this guy was. Approaching his table, the blond enigma seemed to be enjoying a doughnut while vaguely reading the newspaper.
"Pardon, I don't think we've met."
He looked up from his activities and smiled.
"Oh! Right, haha. It'd be rude of me not to introduce myself."
He stuck out his hand. Wolfwood grabbed it.
"I'm Vash."
It was a prosthetic.
"Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Pleasure to meet ya!"
Gently shaking his hand, they both smiled at each other.
"So, care to tell me why you just paid for my breakfast? Or do you do that for every hungry fella that walks through here?"
His chuckle was warm and innocent.
"I told you, I couldn't bare to hear your stomach grumble. Besides, is it so wrong to pay for a meal?"
There was a genuine sense of kindness in his tone. It struck something inside of him.
"I guess I should forget my wallet more often."
Checking his watch to make sure he would still be on time for class, he felt his chest get tighter. He'd be late if he stayed another minute.
"Mind if I sit here?"
He could afford to miss a class.