154 let out a small yawn, blindly reaching out to pull his blanket over his shoulder.
He could feel something moving beside him, but before he could get up and figure out just what it was, a familiar gentle, calloused hand carding through his hair just made him forget what he wanted to do, and instead, he snuggled back under his covers, pressing his face into his pillow.
Opening his eyes blearily, 154 was met with 922's confused expression, using one hand to hold up the book that was on 154's table as he lay next to him. 154 was just about to ask why 922 was in his bed... before he remembered what had happened the night before.
Right... 922 had been startled awake by his System-like gaze, and thought that it had been the thing constantly keeping him up and night...
922 seemed to notice that he was awake, and put his book away, grinning down at the platinum eyed invigilator, "Morning."
"What time is it?" 154 murmured, and 922 checked his phone, "Don't worry, we're not too late. At least, it's before our usual breakfast time."
154 let out a small hum in understanding as 922 continued his ministrations, making 154 feel drowsy all over again, and he closed his eyes. Normally, he detested going to sleep, but this was the most comfortable he's been after waking up since forever, and some part of him wanted to indulge for just a little longer.
And if this really was nothing more than a dream from his lonely, delusional, insane mind... then this was a damn good dream and, despite the nagging feeling gnawing within him, 154 didn't want to wake up from it.
...
Eventually, 922 sat up, and moved to get up, leaving 154 internally mourning the loss of warmth as he wiggled even further under the sheets, unwilling to get up, "I'm going to go make breakfast. You sleep in for a little- Ack!"
With a sharp jerk, 154's eyes shot open, startled by an odd sudden movement and the yelp, and found 922 half on the bed, and half on the ground.
922 groaned as he tried to push himself up, wiggling around like a dying fish, as 154 sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, instantly awake, and tried to figure out just what the fuck was going on.
For some reason, 922's foot had gotten tangled in the blanket and had tripped, accidentally yanking 154 as well, who was huddling under it.
He couldn't help but wonder if he was stuck in some kind of fever dream.
He knew 922 was a little silly and clumsy... but how does someone even get themselves tangled like that!? The blanket wasn't even that big!
154 felt the urge to facepalm, but pushed it down, deep within himself.
There was no way this could be a dream; his brain couldn't dream up this kind of stupidity and chain of events, not even in a million years.
This had to be real.
This was real...
This was... real?
922 managed to untangle his foot from the blanket and stood up, rubbing his sore side, "Anyways, I'll go make breakfast."
"Yes, you said that just now." 154 deadpanned, yanking his blanket back up, some part of him not being very happy that his blanket was on the floor because blankets weren't supposed to be on the floor.
"Are you alright?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm tough. Something like this wouldn't hurt me." 922 just snorted, and headed out of the room, "I'll call you when I'm done."
Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, 154 felt his breathing slow down, a certain warmth spreading throughout his body at the realization that, no, this wouldn't slip away like a fleeting dream, that whatever was going on... this was real.
This warmth, sleeping and waking up, feeling fully refreshed, 922's companionship and kindness...
This was all so real, so tangible, well within 154's grasp... and 154 did not want to let go.
154 knew he was a program, merely a byproduct of the System's internal logic conflicting with each other. He was nothing more than a mistake, something that wasn't supposed to exist...
And yet, some selfish part of him wanted to cling onto this simulated reality, where he was no longer lonely, where he was actually a person that existed, and not some garbled, jumbled up lines of code that the System no longer deemed useful.
154 couldn't help but swallow his saliva, and look down guiltily. For fucks sake, this was what it felt like to have his emotions clashing against normal, rational logic?
No wonder the System had been in a hurry to toss him out.
...
With his thoughts were all over the place, and his bed now cold, he was no longer in the mood for sleeping. 154 shook his head, and stood up, and trudged over to the bathroom to wash his face.
Maybe he'll just go to the kitchen to find 922; he'd surely be happy to see 154 there, waiting for breakfast, without any prompting from himself or Qin Jiu.
Plus, he was in the mood for some coffee.
As 154 made his way towards the kitchen, he found Qin Jiu standing by the doorway, sipping some coffee.
"Good morning, Boss." 154 greeted, and Qin Jiu glanced down at him... with a smile and a certain glint in his eyes that 154 did not like. Instinctively... 154 felt like he was going to be in for a shitshow, and if he wanted to avoid that, he should just turn right around and lock himself in his room.
But 154 wanted some coffee and there was no way he was going to ask 922 to make some and bring it to him, not when he had done so much for him, so 154 just opted to walk into the kitchen... and found 922 turning the entire place upside down.
Half of the cabinets and drawers were open, kitchen utensils were strewn all over the kitchen counter... it was like a tornado had somehow invaded the invigilators' quarters and only targeted the kitchen.
"What... happened here?" 154 blinked in utter confusion, trying to look around for the coffee machine; it was pretty much the only appliance he used on a daily basis, so he was the most familiar with where it was placed.
Of course, with his program-equivalent of photographic memory, he would be able to remember anything once he set his mind to it... except that he really hadn't been paying too much attention to the layout of the kitchen, since he literally had no reason to do so.
"I have no idea!" 922 whined, "Someone had rearranged the entire kitchen! I can't even find my oven mitts!"
"... You don't need oven mitts to make breakfast though?" 154 questioned, though he didn't even have to be the chef to know that everything was not where it was supposed to be.
"Well, yeah, but I can't even find my pan! Or the oven! Or even the bread, for that matter!" 922 complained madly, "How do I make toast with no bread!?"
"... You have a point there." 154 agreed, glancing over to Qin Jiu, who was still sipping his coffee without a care in the world, watching 922's chaos like it were some kind of television drama series.
...
A certain niggling feeling told him that it was probably, most likely Qin Jiu who had done this, a sixth sense, an instinct.
It certainly wasn't the memories of Qin Jiu's fucking empty confinement rooms which had been thrown away into the back-up station when the rules regarding the privacy and confidentiality had been reinstated...
And it most definitely wasn't because 154 had been poking around, trying to figure out the truth behind You Huo's expulsion, only to stumble upon a treasure trove of information about all the chaos Qin Jiu had caused, the patches that had to be put in place to limit his destruction...
154 chose to keep his mouth shut, as 922 threw open a random cabinet, and pulled out the coffee machine, "What the... What is this even doing here!?"
154 wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at 922's exasperated expression. It was actually quite adorable, like a pouting golden retriever... if golden retrievers could even pout in the first place.
But still...how the heck had Qin Jiu managed to rearrange the kitchen so quickly!? It wasn't like they've overslept... unless their boss had woken up early specifically to play a prank on 922?
"Here's your coffee maker." 922 grouchily placed the coffee maker in front of 154, on the counter, "God knows you probably need a cup after seeing this mess... Come on, where are the coffee beans!?"
"You can always ask the System for more." Qin Jiu spoke out casually, taking a sip of his coffee, "What's it going to do, deprive us of coffee?"
922 just stared at the beverage in Qin Jiu's hands, "Boss... where did you even get that?"
"You just noticed?" 154 wasn't impressed in the slightest, and 922 huffed, waving his hand at the mess of a kitchen sassily, "I think I had other priorities."
Qin Jiu let out a hearty laugh, and waved his hand as he exited the kitchen, "Oh well, I have paperwork to do. Have fun!"
"But Boss, you hate paperwork... and he's gone," 154 sighed, watching as 922 continued to dig around, just about to get an aneurysm as he finally found the microwave in another cabinet, with several cans of pickled vegetables sitting on top of it.
...
Eventually, with 154's help, 922 managed to sort out the entire kitchen, and he could finally get down to cooking. 154 just watched as 922 tied the apron around his waist, having already preheated a grill pan over the stove, the chilled meat taken out from the refrigerator and sitting on the countertop.
"I don't think that's suitable for breakfast..." 154 muttered, nursing his cup of coffee.
Another half-empty cup belonging to 922 sat beside him, the taller man having gotten so annoyed by the state his kitchen was in (considering how much 922 cooked, it might as well be his) that he just asked 154 to make a cup for him as well.
"It's too late for breakfast anyways... it's almost noon." 922 huffed, taking a sip of coffee as he reached out for the spatula, "We're lucky. At least the chilled and frozen stuff wasn't touched."
154 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Qin Jiu was an idiot and could be rather playful, but even he knew better than to mess with food when their health was on the line.
"Well, I should go help Boss with his work, you know he-"
154 found himself yanked back by 922, before being pushed back into his seat.
"Nope." 922 frowned, waggling the spatula, "You're sitting right here, mister."
154 spluttered, "I'm not a child!"
"You're not a child, but you have a bad habit of not eating." 922 puffed a cheek out, "I'm not letting you leave before you've had a nice proper meal, especially considering you missed breakfast. And if Boss needs your help with paperwork, he would come and find you anyways."
And god damned it, 154 couldn't find any fault in his logic. Why did 922 have to make sense!?
922's expression softened, and he puffed a cheek out, "Please?"
Fuck, those puppy dog eyes were doing things to his heart. 154 just couldn't say no to 922, so he just complied, and settled back into his seat, noticing 922 visibly perk up, his face lighting up with a bright smile that rivalled the sun.
No, 154 wasn't being soft, totally was not being soft.
It was just that 922's cooking was very good, too good, and 154 would never get sick of any dish crafted by 922's hands, unlike most of the other food he's tasted in the System. It was simply a part of being a program, and not just any program, but a former part of the System, which made 154 naturally sensitive to everything going on around him.
And considering that he's never actually eaten anything before, since even when residing in You Huo and Chu Yue's eyes, the System had only watched, and never interacting... to 154, food with a rich flavour profile that might seem alright to most people just felt like there was some kind of ongoing war on his tongue, and all the tastes and flavours were just trying to overpower each other.
154 generally preferred to stick to blander food, like chicken soup or some simple fried rice. However, he had to admit that 922's grilled meat was just perfect. It really was a pity that his appetite was so small, and if he forced himself to eat too much, he'd probably make himself sick.
Though, to be honest... 154 was actually quite hungry after skipping breakfast, having already gotten used to eating something in the morning, be it some hard-boiled eggs or butter and toast, after 922's consistent pushing.
It wasn't long before a mouth-watering aroma filled the kitchen, and 154 watched as 922 grabbed two plates, scooping up the grilled beef, and placing the plate with a smaller portion in front of 154.
"Give it a try. I tried a new sauce recipe." 922 grinned.
He didn't have to ask twice; 154 reached out for his fork and knife, still trying to retain some semblance of self-control and dignity, cutting out a bite-sized chunk of meat and putting it in his mouth.
If regular food was like a warzone, 922's cooking was like fireworks were popping on his tongue; the same general base ingredients were being used, but while one threatened to destroy his taste buds and ruin his appetite for all of eternity, the other just left 154 wanting more.
922's grilled beef was tender and juicy, and the sauce was nothing like 154 had ever tasted before. It was bursting with so much flavour that 154 did not have enough words to describe how good it was... which was saying a lot, because he probably had an entire dictionary stuffed into his brain.
"Good, right?" 922 laughed, and 154 hadn't even realized that he had already taken another bite of his beef, "If you like my cooking so much, you shouldn't keep running away from the kitchen. I'll make food for you whenever."
154 nearly choked on his beef.
"As long as you promise me you'll try to take care of yourself. Please." 922 reached out for 154's hand, "If you want some food, someone to talk to, maybe just to sleep for a bit in peace... my door is always open for you."
Offering to cook for him whenever? Just to take care of himself?
Why was someone as nice and precious as 922 trapped in a hellhole like this!?
"Why..."
154 knew that he didn't deserve this; he was a program, originally from the System that was now suffocating everyone it had trapped within. 154's own life was being perpetuated by this never-ending cycle of death and despair, of pain and suffering.
"You're my friend. I'm worried about you." 922 simply stated, as his brows furrowed in worry, "You always worry more for other people rather than yourself, and it's very clear that you don't think too much of your health and wellbeing."
Did 154 really deserve this kind of kindness, when he was literally leeching off the misfortunes of literally everyone else in the System?
...
And yet, some part of him wanted to drown in the delusion that his hands weren't stained with so much blood, that it hadn't been spilled to prolong his own existence... that he was innocent from everything, that he didn't have to have this weighing on his conscience, threatening to drown him in an inky pool of darkness.
It was merely a reminder that just like the System allowed him to exist... it could also take his life away. If 154 was not careful, the System would notice what he was, and it wouldn't just confine back in the back-up station. The System wasn't dumb, and it wouldn't allow itself to make the same mistake twice; it would tear his code to shreds so that he would never be able to exist ever again.
922 could probably tell that 154's thoughts were spiraling again, and he tightened his grip on 154's hand, strong enough to snap 154 out of his thoughts, but weak enough to not cause any bruising or injuries.
"I don't fully understand what's going on... and I won't pry if you don't want me to." 154 looked up at 922, who was giving him a semi-pleading expression, much like a kicked puppy, "But you don't have to do all of this alone. So please?"
922 was just too good to him, always looking out for him and taking care of him, him, a former part of the System that destroyed his hands and stole his memory... He deserved everything good in the world and even more, and 154 felt some part of his heart completely melting, felt the desperate, irrational need to do anything that would make 922 stop making such a sad expression.
"I'll try..." 154 looked down, unable to meet 922's gaze, but the taller invigilator just gently rubbed his thumb over 154's knuckles.
"That's good enough for me."
154 hazarded a glance up, and before he knew it, from the soft expression on his face to his gentle smile that reached his eyes that were as warm as melted chocolate, 154 found himself swept him up in the storm called 922.