Chapter Text
He doesn’t remember when it started, but Kunigami believed he had an irrational fear of people. Though fear wouldn’t be the right word to describe it, but he doesn’t know how to categorize it otherwise. He knew he had many reasons from which a hatred could stem, mostly his despise for interaction, in its every form. It’s true that our existence is mostly influenced by this, but he has tried everything in his power to exist in its absence. To restrict himself as much as living required.
Funny how life turns out the way you expect it the least.
Growing up, he wasn’t the most financially fortunate. Despite that, various opportunities had made their way into his life. Irony makes it so that they all come at wrong times. That never stopped him from working hard. His only drive was to leave his town and go as far away as possible, make a stable income and lead an ordinary life. Irony also makes it so that he fails to pick his desired studies at the right time, forgets to write in some requests and misses the answers to some pretty essential questions he was supposed to have already figured out. That’s what happens when you want something too hard and work for it too little. All his life, he was praised for his natural spark, for his intelligence. For the ability to get back on his track despite the hardships. Stupid him for believing all of it. For believing he could actually manage. For wanting to do so on his own.
He doesn’t remember why but, for a period of time, he believed he despised others. He found it tiring to keep himself engaged in conversations he couldn’t even pretend he was interested in. He couldn’t keep friendships for too long, whether it was due to his obvious lack of interest or his annoyance when people had different views from him, it is yet to be discovered. He couldn’t keep track of all the events in everyone’s lives. It was of no important matter to him, whatever the others wished to occupy their time with. He had no interest in remembering it all. His dull, eventless routine kept him satisfied and there was nothing he would have traded it for.
Irony strikes again, paving his way into adulthood with countless situations where he’s forced to put other people’s needs above his. And so he does, because what else is there to do? Little did he know that the consequences of this would be painfully stuck to him. That every second spent helping other people but himself is a second lost from his future. And in that state, he had lost the vast majority of seconds dedicated to his future.
His tall, strong body compensated for all the unfairness that was thrown at him. If he strength he possessed in his limbs would be able to take over the deprivation he lived through daily, he would have turned a blind eye to all the additional bullshit it came with. But it does not, because in his case, life just sucks.
So in spite of the hatred for people, for interaction and for sacrificing his time for others, Kunigami Rensuke finds himself at the age of 25, being a firefighter. The most draining, exhausting and demanding profession on the market. He puts his life on the line on a daily basis, jumping right in when others run away. He gives his strength to people he’s never seen just so they could keep theirs.
But doesn’t irony just love him.
Once, he was willing to trade everything he owned for the chance to change this damned lifestyle that he obviously didn’t choose himself. Day by day, moth by month and year by year, he’s grown to it. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but he’s got used to doing it that he can now certainly say it sucks a little less. He doesn’t care anymore whether he goes and rescues people from fires that could burn him entirely or he spends the entire night shift staring mindlessly into the TV at the station, waiting for an alarm, just in case someone decided to burn their oven at 3 in the morning. He just does his job. The job that chose him. And there is nothing he can change about that, even if there would still be a sliver of hope left in him.
Because that’s just how it is. Life is unfair and he has grown to accept it. He has grown to accept the irony, turning to it every occasion he has to escape an unwanted conversation, an embarrassing interaction or any question that he wants to avoid.
He’s not a stupid man. He tries to live the way he has always wanted to, in his opaque bubble, that few had tried to break but miserably failed. He wakes up at the same time every morning, hearing the same alarm (aka his favorite song, one of the few things that bring him joy), follows a usual routine, goes to work, throws swear words at his boss that tries to act tough every minute of the day and comes back at night after saving the lives of many people whose faces he barely remembers. How funny that the worst day of their lives is just a normal one for him. Clearly, his routine is not steady, given that saving people is unpredictable.
The sky hung heavy the morning Kunigami left for his usual shift. The air smelt of fallen leaves and lasting rain. It was not unpleasant. Occasionally, a breeze would sleet through, sending a delicate shower of droplets from branches to the ground. His gaze wandered through fogged up windows, soaked bricks, darkened by the gone rain, bedroom lights still on and asked himself if any of these will be on his saving list for the day. The walk was short, the distance between his apartment and the station is not something to complain about.
At the gate, he is met with the guard, who requests his ID to give him permission to enter. Today she mutters a ‘Good morning’, handing his card back and looking elsewhere almost instantly. Inside the compound, several vehicles are parked in the bay, getting prepped for the day ahead. He passed them, bidding hellos to his other colleagues, making his way to the main building. He enters through the side door, the one meant for them, that leads to the locker rooms, where all equipment and uniforms are stored. Changing quickly from usual clothes to the protective gear, including protecting trousers, heavy boots and a bright red shirt, he throws the jacket on his shoulder, since there’s no use in wearing it if he isn’t on a mission. Every one of them has one entire minute to completely pack, enter the fire engines and take off after an emergency call is heard. He leisurely heads to the briefing room, where he usually waits for the others to gather, after which they all go to either the training room or the pitch. Unlike usual jobs, their schedule isn’t preset. Whenever the alarm rings, they’re suddenly on duty. During the meantime, they mostly train or play soccer, which is a very efficient training method, as they all believe.
As he enters the door, he notices the unmistakable figure of the only man with whom he can hold normal conversations with. The tall man, although shorter than him (like many), with a slim figure and dark blue hair, was tying his laces, when he swiftly got up and saw him as well.
“Morning” Isagi greeted him energetically, raising his hand as he approached him.
“Sup” he said back, meeting his hand in a clean dab.
“Nothing much” he answered. “I’ve just arrived 5 mins ago and I wanted to go for a coffee. Are you in?”
“No way,” Kunigami sleepishly grinned to his friend. “You? Coffee? From the unit? Are you alright?” he said amused, shaking Isagi’s shoulders, as if to make sure he’s not insane.
One thing to know about Isagi is that every morning at 7.55 sharp he is present in the unit, fully equipped, with a small spanish latte in hand. Every. Single. Time. He doesn’t stand the taste of black coffee, so he settled on something sweeter, yet not too caloric to make his teeth fall. The others always make fun of him and his princessy Spanish, yet he couldn’t care less. He’s just a man drinking his coffee, however that may be, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Besides the concept of plain coffee, he is the (self-proclaimed) biggest hater of the vending machine coffee, given that, quote, you never know what that liquid went through. Today, however, he seemed to have opted for a new approach.
“I know, I know, I would’ve stopped by the coffee shop, but I’d have been late and the boss is already in a mood. I don’t wanna make things worse.”
‘That sounds reasonable’ he thinks to himself.
“Right, but you leave at the same time every day, and you always have time to wait in that stupid line for that stupid drink” the taller pointed out.
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear the last part” Isagi muttered. “Last night I stayed up late, so I might have slept through my alarm.” he admitted shyly.
Another thing to know about Isagi is that every night, at 22.55 sharp, he is in bed. He firmly believes in having minimum 8 hours of sleep, otherwise he won’t be able to function. Kunigami had a theory that he doesn’t even need the coffee, it’s just his sweet tooth craving an absurd amount of caramel syrup, but he’s his friend, and friends don’t judge. Or at least they act like they don’t.
A frown formed on Kunigami’s face at the words of the other. He never stays up late. And he never misses alarms. And he never comes without his dubious spanish lat-
“Did you talk to him last night?”
The other rubbed his neck, avoiding his friend’s stare.
“Dude” he started, more serios this time, “You’re wasting your time with things that are none of your business.”
A few months ago, Isagi told him about this friend of his that was going through a difficult period. By difficult period, he meant a break-up. He was going through a break-up. Like any other normal human, he told Isagi to tell that boy to ‘just get over it’ but apparently, there was something more to it. Ever since then, they’ve been on and off and Isagi there seems to have got bogged down in their business. He claims to be helping his friend make the right decisions for the future of the relationship. Isagi’s words, not his. Kunigami didn’t understand why he did it. Isagi’s always been a nice person like that. Cutting from his sleep time to help his friends deal with whatever bullshit. He didn’t understand the actual ‘fight’ either. Maybe because he didn’t bother to. If he were to be asked, he’d say that if they realized they are not suitable for each other it would be easier for them to part ways and amiably end it. To him, it was as simple as that. If someone makes your life hard, they’re not worth your time. If they don’t make you happy, stop being around them. He’s always been a rational person. Life meant limited resources in which you should invest only if there’s a clear return of a beneficial outcome. If two people are compatible, so be it, they’re lucky, but if it demands constant struggles, it’s an insufficient use of breathable air. And it’s illogical. Why hurt yourself when you can choose freedom? Separation is not a tragedy, it’s a sensible solution to both parties implied.
When he first told Isagi that, he said he would work great as a secretary and that his rejection regarding the existence of love was not welcomed. But he didn’t reject its existence. He rather acknowledged it only when it contributes positively to both people’s lives.
And apparently, that was too hard for Isagi to grasp.
Deciding he’s already had enough of this story that didn’t imply him in the slightest, he followed his friend to the vending machine, where he was so triggered that he gave up on the coffee idea. He decided he could make it through the day without any caffeine. That’ll be a challenge.
Disappointed, coffeeless and grumpy, they made their way to the pitch to kill some time playing soccer.