𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟 / / 𝟘𝟡𝟚𝟘
Christmas woke up to a chilly morning that outlined with minute precision the shape of the warm arm draped over his torso. The hospital building didn’t seem like it had seen any substantial upgrades to internal temperature regulation systems for decades and the uneven sputtering of the heater clattered quietly from the aging vents. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the arm laid across him, holding the heat carefully.
Sometime during his sleep the hospital staff had removed the IV and left behind a patch of gauze to staunch the blood. He shifted the arm slowly, feeling minimal discomfort. The ache on the side of his head had also mostly faded, the injury nothing severe in the end despite how thoroughly it had knocked him out.
The thought brought back memories of the battle and how, once again, he had been entirely useless. He at least lasted a bit longer this time before falling unconscious, but that was no improvement. Somehow, he had made it through, and he was willing to bet it was almost all luck.
The understanding was humiliating and he was shocked to find that his pride still cared after all this time. His light touch on the arm laying over him turned into a hesitant grip at the surge of shame.
But as much as he wanted to wallow in self-pity for much longer, his body had other plans—restroom plans.
A check on Sander sleeping peacefully beside him and Christmas had to resist the urge to touch his roommate’s hair again. Instead he slid out slowly, feeling the stings and aches from the battle’s aftermath. Standing up after laying down so long was also disorienting and he spent the better portion of the next ten minutes just gripping the small table nearby for balance.
The hallway was empty when he emerged from the room, and he quailed at the thought of having to ask someone where the bathroom was. The sign of the men’s bathroom on a door just down the hallway caught his eye and he sighed in relief, stumbling quickly into the room.
A guard was waiting for him when he stepped out of the bathroom and Christmas heard a quiet whimper that he realized seconds later had been
his quiet whimper.
”Headed somewhere?” the soldier asked, voice gruff, but otherwise calm.
”N-no…?” ”Back to your room, then,” the man ordered, peering suspiciously down at the healer.
Christmas nodded, shuffling back into the hospital room he had come from while the guard watched to make sure he obeyed.
Just as Christmas entered the room, Sander stirred from his sleep. It took the blood mage a few minutes to finally wake up fully, just in time to catch sight of his roommate at the doorway.
“
Hey. Morning.” -With a lopsided grin on his lips, Sander greeted, voice still slightly hoarse of disuse. The grogginess from the withdrawal clung to him still, but he was feeling much better compared to last night. Before Christmas could return his greetings, Sander was already out of bed, rolling his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them. His hair, as expected, was still a mess, so Sander ran fingers through the clumped strands, hoping to straighten them out as much as he could.
Christmas ducked his head at the greeting, curling his lips inward to suppress the instinctive smile. He didn’t succeed, so he settled for rubbing his nose instead, hand over his mouth. The downward gaze finally drew his attention fully to his hospital pajamas and the slippers he had automatically put on earlier when he was in a rush to use the bathroom. It dawned on him that he wanted his usual clothes again, though he was in no position to demand anything more than what he had.
He peeked back up at Sander, who was stretching and combing fingers through messy brown hair. Half-naked. He wasn’t the only one who needed different clothes and Christmas looked away from the sight, shoulders and neck warming up with embarrassment and something more when he remembered Sander had been half-naked since the previous day.
”M-morning,” he mumbled back, turning back to Sander with a tiny wave because his hands suddenly felt awkward and unwieldy.
”How—how are you?”“
I’m good. Feeling much better now.” -Sander turned his eyes on Christmas then, and he wasted no time walking over to the blond boy –“
How about you?”
Christmas nodded, then realized that wasn’t an answer.
”I’m…I’m fine, but…um…” His voice trailed off as he tried to avoid looking straight at Sander.
”C-clothes…um…didn’t notice before. I’m sorry.”“
What’s wrong with your clothes?” -Sander’s voice was laced with concern as he stepped closer.
Christmas locked his hands behind his back, grasping them tightly while he looked down.
”Your…your clothes…um…” He could barely hear himself.
”Y-your shirt?”“
Oh. I took it off earlier.” -Sander shrugged, still largely unware of his own indecency. There was a shirt he found on his chair, but the heat from his high earlier forced him to take it off –“
I…go put it on?”
Christmas nodded, swallowing visibly and not meeting Sander’s gaze.
After Sander had put his shirt back on, he turned back to his roommate, eyeing the smaller boy curiously –“
Are you…okay? Do you want to lie down a bit more?”
Mostly. He was mostly okay, Christmas decided, but the room felt a bit too warm all of the sudden. Maybe the heater was finally working properly. His hand plucked at the loose pajama pants, before raising up halfway to fiddle with his ribbon. The ribbon that wasn’t there anymore, and that bothered him. He stared at the floor for several seconds, parsing why losing the ribbon still dragged on him so heavily, but the reasoning wouldn’t come. He just knew he wanted one again—and he tried to assure himself that it would have happened eventually. The previous ribbon had been too dirty and damaged from the harsh fight on the first night at the Institute. A matter of time, really, but he had wanted it to be on his terms. Somewhere, somehow, he had grown just the smallest bit tired of not doing what he wanted.
”…I…I want to go…b-buy something,” he murmured, voice shaking from the irrational fear that Sander would, for some reason, forbid him from doing that.
“
Go where?”
”Clothes and—and…” It embarrassed him to admit he felt vain enough to want a ribbon after everything that had happened and after everything he was trying not to panic over and think about. The sentence finished eventually.
”…a ribbon. O-or, um…” and audacious suggestions broke through unfiltered, something Christmas was just as grateful for as he was scared of,
”…two…f-for you and…and me.”“
Clothes.” -Sander mumbled, mulling over the thought. So they were no longer at the school. It explained the different surroundings. But why? More missions? That was his only guess. However, it seemed that they were in no rush for now, so he supposed he could enjoy the moment –“
Yeah. We need clothes. And new ribbons. Maybe…I can ask one of the guards? They’ll bring us new stuffs.”
”O-Okay,” Christmas replied, relief coloring his tone. He sighed out the tension and looked up at Sander, double-checking with a questioning glance if Sander was sure.
Sander moved toward the door then and peered outside, looking for a guard. Fortunately, there was one just outside. The man narrowed his eyes as Sander approached, but he made no other move.
“
Uh…We need more clothes.” -Sander said simply, returning the man’s cold gaze.
”…There’s a store one block over,” the guard said, nodding with his head in the general direction.
“…
But we are not supposed to leave?”
”You can leave,” the soldier answered grudgingly,
”but you can’t go far.”“
Can…you go for me? Isn’t it safer that way?”
The man looked at Sander incredulously.
”The soldiers need to keep an eye on things in the hospital. And certain students. If you want something minor, you can get it yourself.”Sander blinked, taking a moment to actually process the information. They were letting him leave. That was…unexpected. Then again, they had never specify that
he had to remain within the premise of the school. Did they know about the Change? How?
Wordlessly, Sander turned and went back inside the room, closing the door behind.
Christmas was seated on the bed and blinking at his knees when Sander returned. He looked up reflexively at the sound of door opening and closing, a half-smile on his face that he quickly disguised as another itchy nose.
”H-how was it?”“
They said…we can leave to get it.” -Sander breathed out slowly. Despite his casual tone, he seemed to be deep in thought.
”O-oh…then—I can…I can go. D-did you want anything?”“
…Alone?”
Christmas blinked, then nodded hesitantly.
”…I’ll—I’ll be back soon…” But his mind was on the last time he had said that, when a shopping trip had turned into disaster in an alley. And he was embarrassed for thinking so highly of himself that an incident like that counted as a catastrophe.
”Wh-what’s your, um, f-favorite color?”“
…You shouldn’t go alone.” -Sander frowned, ignoring the question. His mind was set on the memories of his last encounter with Ernie. As far as he knew, the other Aberration was still alive and well. Good for him. But not so much for Christmas.
”I’ll be back soon…” the blond boy repeated, tension settling around his shoulders again.
Sander frowned again. That was not a solution. Ernie could still find Christmas out there. Not to mention…other people. His eyes fell on the patch of bandage around Christmas’ neck, and his frown only deepened.
“
I’ll go with you.” -Simple words, but the decision behind them weighed heavily on his mind. It had been so long, and for good reasons. Even now, when the Change had favoured him so much, Sander still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice.
”Is—is that okay?” Christmas’s tentative stare was directed at Sander’s jaw, where the lines of his roommate’s face had set firm with the frown.
”I’ll be q-quick.”“
It’s fine. -Sander racked a hand through his hair once more, before answering –“
I’ll be fine.”
The second they were out of the door, however, it quickly turned out
not fine. Neither of them had noticed their lack of payment solutions until the same guard on patrol in the corridor eyed the small boy in hospital pajamas (with no pockets) and the half-naked X mark before calling out to them.
”Headed somewhere?” His walked towards them, rifle in hand, though the pose was at least relaxed, even if he was ready to whip the gun towards them and fire at any second.
Christmas flinched at the approach and stared fearfully at the guard for a moment. He gulped and found a half-answer to the question.
”B-buying clothes,” he managed, trying not to hide behind Sander in case that made them look more suspicious.
”…IDs?” the soldier asked, already pulling out his phone to cross-check the information.
Christmas stared, eyes wide. He had no idea where his ID was. No one had ever brought his previous clothes back, either, and he didn’t have the nerve to ask.
“
I left it in my room.” -Sander’s eyes flicked to his roommate for a moment. From the boy’s expression, it seemed he was in a similar situation -”
We both did.”
The soldier sighed heavily, of half a mind to send them both back to their rooms and save himself the hassle, but a thought about the unstable Aberration they all had to guard carefully came to mind. He didn’t need any more headaches than he already had and his commanding officer had already cleared them for restricted movements within a certain perimeter.
”Stay,” he commanded the two, swiping and tapping quickly on his phone, the motion habit by now.
He opened a separate line to the commanding officer, so the minor inquiry wouldn’t need to be broadcast to everyone.
”Hospital unit here, sir. Got two subs with no IDs and they want to go shopping.”He paused while he listened to the response from the other end.
”No, doesn’t look like it.”A quick glance at Sander and Christmas and he focused again on the conversation.
”Understood.”The call ended after a minute and the soldier nodded at the two of them, reciting something that sounded like official policy,
”For essentials and minor expenditures in cases of emergency, USARILN staff and approved students are allowed to transfer the costs of purchases to the Institute if they can prove affiliation.” He nodded at the thin cuff that was slightly visible under the long pant leg of Christmas’s pajamas.
”That’ll work as proof. Tell them to send the bill to USARILN East.”“
Alright. Thanks.” -Sander offered the soldier a curt nod, before walking past him. He kept his eyes forward as he moved, still far too occupied with his own thoughts and doubts to notice much else. It was funny, how he was so hung up on such a small thing. He got better now. He could handle this. Fortunately, his sated Stigma stayed relatively quiet.
After a few minutes following the signs displayed thorough the hospital, Sander found himself standing at the entrance. Quite a few people there gave both him and Christmas wary stares, but they turned away as soon as Sander turned to look back, so he just assumed there were no trouble brewing.
“
Where do you want to go?” -Sander raised an eyebrow, turning around to look at his roommate.
”A-anywhere that sells clothes…” he mumbled, looking around hesitantly. It was a completely unfamiliar town and he had no idea where to go. Forethought wasn’t his forte—never had been. Luckily, a rectangular rock sign displaying the hospital’s name nearby had a hard plastic map embedded in the back, though the map only noted hospital entrances and exits clearly, leaving the rest blank save for the buildings clustered around the hospital.
Tiny print a block north denoted a “Plato’s Closet” and Christmas vaguely recalled the name from his hometown as well. It was a big chain of small stores and he passed by one every day on the walk home from school, until he finally entered it one day. The memory felt far away.
”H-here?” he said, pointing at the map and turning back to Sander.
Sander noticed the scents first, despite everything. Nothing he hadn’t felt before; USARILN East’s population was quite sizable. But those were…subnaturals. People like him. Not regulars. It didn’t mean that they smelled different at all. They were just…different.
Sander had to fight the urge to scoff at his own baseless fear. There was nothing to be nervous about. Yet, a heaviness coiled in his guts anyway. He turned his eyes to the crowded street ahead, and let out a long breath. He could do this. For his own sake, as well as Christmas’.
“
Sure. Let’s go. We’re walking or…?”
”I-I guess so…” Christmas tried to avoid eye contact with the people around them, and most of them did the same after a cursory glance at his unusual attire going out.
They had barely left the safety of the hospital grounds when a young woman in a fitted pantsuit jogged up to them, her light makeup and styled, brown hair carefully constructed to mimic the glamorous, yet minimalist style that was all the rage these days—the type of look that seemed simple, but actually took hours of preening to accomplish.
The microphone in her hand ringed with a square of blue and white that flashed the station name at them was enough indication of who she was.
Several seconds later, her cameraman joined her as well.
”Hello there!” she greeted them, voice chipper,
”I’m Marianne Forhan of KLPN and I’d like to interview you two as part of our channel’s special on subnaturals and the nearby disaster in Wisford!”She seemed undeterred by their marks and lack of proper attire, turning instead to her cameraman and beckoning him to pan over their faces and marks.
”We’re not live yet, but if you’d like to come back to the station with us, it’ll be much more comfortable than an interview here.” She flashed another bright smile at them as the corresponding news van rolled up nearby.
As soon as the stranger approached them, Sander walked up to put himself between her and Christmas. The woman didn’t seem to be hostile though, but instead appeared to be a report of some sort. Sander squinted, trying to remember those rare days when his father took him to work. He recalled the scenario, if anything: a report rushing up to meet the person of interest, the cameraman following closely behind to record.
At least they weren’t ‘live’, at the moment. Sander didn’t think putting his face on the television would be a very good idea. Not after what happened.
“
Uh. No. We’re busy.”
”That’s fine! We can interview you while we take you around to wherever it is you need to go. And it should be easier for you two, right?” She glanced meaningfully at their clothes.
“
No…Not gonna be on TV. Sorry.” -A twinge of fear formed in Sander’s stomach at the thought of his face on national television. Hastily, he grabbed Christmas’ hand and began to walk away -”
We really have to go.”
”Hang on!” The woman ran after them, grabbing the lagging Christmas by the shoulder.
”It doesn’t have to be both of you then! Just him would be fine.”She looked determined, and her grip on Christmas was quite firm. The healer trembled under her intense gaze, his breaths coming in short gasps from the familiar way a hand tightened on his shoulder. Panic stirred and Christmas looked to Sander for an answer.
“
No.” -Sander frowned, letting go of Christmas’ hand in order to catch the reporter’s offending wrist, his brows creased in frustration. Fear built in him, and so did something far darker. Something that told about the lilac scented blood under the soft wrist in his grip.
But he digressed.
“
Please.”
She stared back at him, unfazed, but her cameraman seemed to panic, backing away quickly in case something worse happened.
”Amateur,” she muttered, glancing quickly at her retreating partner before turning back to Sander. A moment longer of an impromptu staring match and she let go of Christmas’s shoulder.
”I’m sorry for scaring you,” she said, watching the expressions of both boys,
”but an interview isn’t as bad as you think it’ll be. Not with me at least. I can’t say the same for any of the other reporters, so it’d be a good idea to take me up on my offer. Or at least let me ask you some questions on a quick drive around the block. We’ll even take you where you need to go.”Sander only frowned, turning to Christmas to hear the boy’s opinion.
”…J-Just a quick drive? R-really?””Really,” the woman smiled, kinder this time, though there was a hardness to her gaze that didn’t seem directed at them.
”…Clothes store,” Christmas admitted, looking at Sander to check if that was fine.
”B-but if…if he doesn’t like it…””Don’t worry, I won’t interview your friend if he doesn’t want me to. And I won’t ask you too much; just a few quick questions.”Christmas’s eyes darted between the two of them, but when the reporter beckoned towards the open doors at the van’s back, he held on to Sander’s hand and didn’t move just yet.
”…S-sorry…do you—do you want to?” Sander sighed, looking between Christmas and the reporter, weighing his options. After all, Christmas had wanted it. Sander didn’t mind walking, but he wasn’t sure about the blond boy.
“
Alright. If that’s what you want.” -Sander nodded, letting go of the woman’s wrist. His gaze shifted to the cameraman –“
But…no filming.”
”Just him, then,” she insisted, leading the two of them into the back of the van where another man stared fearfully at them, mirroring Christmas’s terrified gaze.
When they were both seated and the van was in motion, the woman pulled out a small notepad and a pen, quietly reminding the cameraman to make sure the focus was only on Christmas’s face.
”So, what’s your name?” she asked the shaking boy.
”C-Christmas,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.
She jotted the name down and continued, undeterred by his slow, faltering speech.
”What’s your power?”He paused, staring up at her now with eyes as wide as saucers.
”…N-not sure if I…” he gulped.
”All right, you can’t tell me that. How about this, then: how old are you?””…Eight-eighteen.””How long have you had your powers?””M-more than a month.””What was it like receiving powers?””…Um…” he stared at the floor of the van, feeling the subtle vibrations of the car’s movements under his feet.
”…R-really weird.””Can you describe it?”He didn’t respond for a while, but eventually shook his head with a feeble
”S-sorry.”The woman leaned back in her seat with a sigh, not making any headway with this particular type. And while most of the brazen sorts would talk more than they needed to under force or coertion, the quiet, fearful sorts would simply clam up. And it wasn’t like she could keep them indefinitely, given how USARILN East in particular tended to operate. They could be out of town and gone in half an hour if an order came.
”I’ll skip to the real questions then, if you don’t mind,” she said, flicking deftly to another page in her notepad.
”Tell me about yourself.”Christmas stared at the camera like a deer caught in headlights. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but nothing really came out besides quiet stutters.
She watched him a moment longer, the floundering look of someone who had never been asked that type of question obvious from her perspective. But even in that case, people could still come up with some sort of satisfactory response. This boy, on the other hand, looked ready to jump out the door. Of course these types existed, and in her years in journalism she’d had to handle all sorts in a variety of situations, but the fear on his face was disheartening, especially after she’d done her best to be accommodating. Expected, given the current state of affairs between subnaturals and regular people, but still discouraging. It was an old trick for the verbally reluctant, but it worked, so she flipped to an empty page in her notepad and handed it to him with the pen tucked into the spiral binding across the top. He took it automatically, thoughtlessly, the reaction of someone afraid to offend.
”I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay? And you can just write down your answers—” She stopped at the look of surprise on his face. It persisted much longer than a reactionary expression and he seemed to marvel at the pen and the notepad like he had never seen the tools before.
”Why do you look so surprised?”It was her turn to raise both eyebrows when the boy put pen to paper and wrote out a response to a question that hadn’t even been intentional. The movements were slow and unsteady, shaky and unsure, and she saw him cross out words and think on more, but he was at least answering them to the best of his ability.
”All right. Let’s try this again. Tell me about yourself.”She waited until the pen stopped moving.
”How was high school? Did you have a lot of friends? Maybe a girlfriend?”
“What were your best subjects in school?”
“Do you like your name? Or would you change it to something else?”
“What’s your biggest fear?”
“Was it hard making the transition from your previous life to USARILN East?”
“Have they sent you out on a lot of missions?”
“Have you killed any Dreamcatcher monsters or worked with groups who have?”
“Do you still keep in touch with anyone from home?”
“How does USARILN East train its subnaturals?”
“What are you studying in USARILN East aside from combat?”
“Any favorite sport? Hobbies?”
“Do you have any pets?”For each question she waited until he was done writing, even if sometimes it seemed like he only scribbled one word to a question that deserved much more. It wasn’t as effective a dialogue as she would have liked considering the one-sided nature of the conversation, but Marianne took what she could get. There’d be ways for the editing team and the station to make it more visually appealing later, but she made sure to tap the cameraman’s leg and remind him to pan towards the ankle cuff as well, which was the most easily recognizable proof that this was a legitimate USARILN subnatural.
Finally, she concluded the interview with
”Were you in Wisford during the attack just several days ago?”When Christmas’s pen stopped this time, she shouted to the driver to take them to the nearest clothing retailer. The van parked on the curb in front of the store and the reporter helped Christmas out first, patting his arm with a brief
”Thank you” before climbing back into the car. A quick skim of his tiny handwriting on the notepad revealed more disappointment than proper answers and plenty of scribbled out lines or half-finished thoughts where she had moved on to another question before he had completed an answer. It was her mistake, assuming his longer-than-usual pauses were his signs that he was done.
Still, what he did answer was enough for a segment, and what they had recorded of his demeanor was perfect for the sort of controversial, humanizing story she wanted to present when the overwhelming popular opinion was to isolate them for everyone’s safety.
Throughout the interview, Sander remained silent, the lines of his face hardened into cold impassiveness. He wasn’t sure what Christmas wrote down though, and whether the school would approve of them answering interviews, but seeing as how the van wasn’t surrounded by armored trucks yet, he decided to just keep his eyes on the cameraman instead.
The man returned Sander’s gaze occasionally, a terrified expression etched on his face.
Fortunately, the interview was over soon enough. They dropped him and Christmas right in front of the clothing store. As soon as the van disappeared from view, Sander turned to his roommate, placing a hand on the blond boy’s shoulder.
“
You’re alright?”
Christmas stiffened briefly at the touch, but relaxed within seconds, nodding excessively because his mind was on other things—or other words left behind on a familiar notepad.
”F-fine—I’m fine.” He nodded a few more times to reinforce the assertion for himself, eyes on the windowed displays of used, brand-name clothing—Plato’s Closet specialties. Instead of going in, he looked at Sander, waiting if his roommate wanted to go anywhere else.
“
We’re going inside?” -Sander titled his head slightly at his roommate’s gaze, confused.
Relieved that Sander hadn’t changed his mind, Christmas shuffled inside first, looking astoundingly out of place in hospital clothes and even hospital slippers. A bell over the door announced their presence and several of the customers inside shouted at the sight of two subnaturals in hospital patient-wear. In a corner, a teenage girl screamed and cowered.
The manager—a man in his late 20’s or early 30’s with a neat comb over—rushed out from the back room at the commotion, stopping dead in his tracks when he finally saw what had spooked everyone else. The two of them looked unnatural dressed like that—even for this day and age—and the manager backed up against the wall behind the counter, afraid to make a move and entirely misunderstanding the situation from the fearful reactions of the patrons around him.
”Who—who are you?! What do you want?!” he stammered, pulling out a small knife from under the counter that had, thus far, only seen use as a fruit peeler.
Christmas flinched at the reactions, edging closer to Sander reflexively.
Sander grimaced slightly when the variety of scents hit him. Worse, one of the employees had pulled out a knife as well, further escalating the situation. He let out a breath before finally speaking up.
“
…We just want to buy some clothes. We’ll leave afterward.” -He stepped in front of Christmas then, holding out his hands.
”Go—go somewhere else!” the man shouted, his grip on the knife shaking.
”I’ll call the police!””Just leave us alone!” a woman screamed from behind a rack of clothes, shaking in fear.
Christmas pulled on Sander’s shirt, stepping almost entirely behind the taller boy in response to the verbal onslaught.
He was just as afraid.
”C-can—can go if—if you want.” The trembling in his voice only grew worse the harder he tried to speak normally.
The experience was almost…unreal. Sander knew what sort of treatment to expect; he had been a subnatural for far too long, enough to put away those naïve optimism. Yet, it was still hard to deal with when expectations turned out to be reality. Sander stood very still then, unsure of what to do next. At least at the Facility, people had guns.
The tug on his shirt reminded him that Christmas was still there.
“
…It’s alright.” -He reassured the blond boy –“
Do you want to leave?”
”D-don’t want tr-trouble for—for you,” he replied in an almost whisper, eyes on the manager’s knife. He stepped back towards the entrance, nearly tripping over his own feet in panic. Sander’s arm was behind him this time, steadying the balance automatically while they moved backwards in unison and exited the store.
The street was host to several restaurants and more clothing stores, luckily, and the two wandered to a second, much smaller place in relative silence. The clothes here weren’t as unique and stylish, but the aging man at the counter only narrowed his eyes at them, keeping mercifully silent even though he followed them from rack to rack, standing just close enough to make it clear he was watching.
Sander wasted no time looking through the racks of clothes. Hardly the brand he would usually buy, but he supposed it would do. Anything was better than the flimsy hospital shirt he currently had on. Quickly looking through the available selection, Sander managed to snatch several items: two pairs of jeans, one plaid button-up shirt and several T-shirts, as well as a thick blue hoodie. There was no need to try them on; Sander already knew his sizes too well. Once that was done, Sander turned back to Christmas, patiently waiting for his roommate to finish.
The blond boy seemed to be fumbling, though.
“
You’re alright over there?” -Sander asked as he walked over, bundle of clothes in hand.
Christmas let go of a shirt he had pulled partially from the rack, looking towards Sander like he was lost.
”S-sorry, I, um, d-don’t know which to get…”He snatched a few shirts and a pair of pants at random.
”We—we can go.”“
…Those aren’t your size.” -Sander looked at the shirts in Christmas’ hands, raising an eyebrow –“
Do you need any help? I can help you look?”
”…Um…” Christmas looked at the motley of colors in his hands, figuring the path of least resistance was to quickly leave so they wouldn’t get into any trouble. But the idea of Sander helping him choose clothes was appealing in a peaceful, pleasant way.
He nodded, eventually, but added a brief
”O-only if you w-want to…”“
I don’t mind.” -Sander flashed his roommate a brief smile, glancing around quickly to find a place to deposit his bundle. Spotting an empty bench in the corner, Sander walked over and dropped the clothes he had picked out. With that done, he walked back to Christmas and examined the shirt he just pulled out a few moments earlier.
It wasn’t hard to find something he thought would fit his roommate. However, he wasn’t sure about the exact size.
“
Do you have a changing room?” -He turned to the old man then, tone still polite despite the other’s obvious disdain.
The owner only nodded, pointing toward a curtained room in a corner.
Sander picked out a few more items, including better shoes than hospital slippers, and looked expectantly at Christmas, who took the clothes from Sander’s hands carefully and eyed the changing room like something would come out of it and attack him.
”W-we can just go if—if you want…sorry for…t-taking so long.”“
It’s fine. You should try these on. See if everything fits.” -Sander only smiled. He turned toward the changing room then, beckoning Christmas.
Another glance at the irritated owner and Christmas stopped protesting, stepping inside the room with Sander to escape the silently glaring man. When the changing room curtain covered the entrance behind him Christmas let out a small sigh, recuperating from the unpleasant hovering of the store owner.
”S-sorry…shouldn’t have—have left the hospital…”“
It’s alright. I told you. Don’t have to be sorry around me.” -Sander replied absentmindedly, far too occupied sorting through the mound of clothes he had picked out. A light blue shirt caught his eyes, so he held it up for Christmas -”
I think this would suit you.”
Christmas watched curiously until Sander pulled out a pale blue shirt. It would suit him? He had never given that sort of fashionable concern much thought so he just blinked at the shirt before taking it in both hands.
”So we’ll, um, just take this one…then.” He waited for Sander to leave first.
“
You should try it on first. I don’t know your size.”
Christmas stared at him, unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t the first time Sander had shown that strange lack of social mannerisms, and he probably shouldn’t have thought it was a problem by now, but he still felt that twinge of embarrassment that always came with taking off his clothes, even in private.
The shirt did fit and Christmas stared at his reflection in surprise. He liked it. The shirt, the color, the situation—even with its shortcomings.
”Th-thank you,” he said softly, tugging on the shirt hem from embarrassment and gratitude rolled into one.
“
It looks good.” -Sander smiled, though a wrinkle on the shirt’s collar caught his eyes –“
May I?He didn’t know what Sander was referring to, so Christmas just nodded.
”D-don’t have to ask…s-sorry.”“
Don’t have to be.” -Sander reminded gently, reaching for the collar of Christmas’ new shirt and adjusting it -”
There.”
“
You should try everything else, too.” -Sander suggested, gesturing at the bundle of clothes.
A brief moment of hesitation and Christmas complied, trying on the various shirts, pants, and shoes and setting aside the ones that didn’t fit until they had curated a selection of clothes that wouldn’t sag around his small frame. Despite the various no-name brands and different styles of sizing, most of the clothes ended up in the XS or XXS range, especially where men’s clothing was concerned. Compared to most of the “small”s and “medium”s in the menswear racks, Christmas’s clothes looked childishly tiny. Finally finished with the large bundle of clothes Sander had picked out, Christmas was changing out of the pants he had kept on for the past few shirts and reaching for the hospital clothes lying nearby when Sander noticed.
“
…Uh. You don’t have to wear your old clothes, you know.”
He looked questioningly at Sander.
“
Do you prefer the hospital clothes?”
”N-no.”“
Then you don’t have to. Just wear the new clothes.” -As he spoke, Sander began to strip as well, reaching for his own bundle of clothes. Moments later, he had already discarded the dirty clothes at his feet, sporting a fresh white T-shirt with jeans. The scent of cheap detergent was thick in the fabric, but he supposed it was better than the stench of grime from the battle.
”O-okay,” Christmas said, following his lead and leaving the new clothes on. Most of the clothes in the small store were secondhand and lacked the usual tags and anti-theft devices that more professional stores had, but that just made it easier for him to justify keeping it on. He still picked up the hospital clothes afterwards, though, watching Sander out of the corner of his eye and trying to keep his gaze focused on the bundle in his hands.
”Thank you,” he said again quietly, tucking his hands into the folds of the clothes he was carrying so they wouldn’t feel so awkward.
Once he was done adjusting his new clothes, Sander gave Christmas a quick glance before pulling the curtain open and stepped outside. The owner was already waiting for them; the old man probably stood outside the whole time or something. Regardless, Sander informed him that the school would reimburse any charges later, and the grumpy old man finally let them leave after totaling up the costs and giving the local police a call to be sure. When there was no outright denial of service, he reluctantly let them go with full plastic shopping bags.
Mixtape Ghost N
