Inexplicable Dream Team one-shots

Fuse // SapNotFound

| platonic |

[2789 words]

**content warnings: mentions of injury (electrocution) and death**

Author's note: This story was inspired by a dream that I had two nights ago!

***

As an electrician at the city electric company, Sapnap's job is to upkeep the local power grid. He learns the locations and operating capacities of every fuse box mounted at the tops of power poles. Some neighborhood residents watch him perform repairs from their windows; otherwise, they ignore him. Sapnap spends his daily trips to fuse boxes across the city in comfortable silence.

Then, the rainstorm hits.

Torrents pour from an ominously dark sky until streets are slick and storm drains overflow with foul-smelling water. Sapnap receives an alert from the electricity grid that wooden power pole #404 has been damaged. He expects that a bolt of lightning was the culprit, but instead, the report reads that a kite struck the power line. Sapnap wonders what kind of idiot would fly a kite in the middle of a rainstorm, but that is not the point. No matter the cause of the disturbance, he must repair fuse box #404.

Seated in his dim office, Sapnap sighs with resentment as he glances out the side window into the nightmarish weather. Rain showers the company building's roof, spilling down the window in rippling lines as wind buffets the trees outside. As far as Sapnap is concerned, it's practically a hurricane out there, but he needs money to pay bills, so he must do the job anyway.

Wincing at the thought of spoiling the comfortable dryness of his work uniform, Sapnap dons a jacket and an orange rain poncho. Keys in hand, he sprints to one of the electrical company's vans which resides in the drenched parking lot. He grimaces as cold water immediately penetrates his boots and soaks his socks within seconds of stepping outside.

Warm breath billows past Sapnap's lips into the van's stuffy air as he closes the driver-side door and powers on the engine. He tries to ignore the drops of water dribbling down the seat's ragged leather upholstery.

Few cars occupy the roads, leaving streets abandoned and eerily gloomy. Everyone shelters inside their houses as they wait out the storm.

The wail of an ambulance reaches Sapnap's ears as he drives. From the opposite direction, bright red and blue lights slice through falling rain as the emergency vehicle barrels down the street with sirens blaring. As the ambulance's wail fades from earshot, Sapnap is not surprised someone was seriously injured; car accidents especially are common during rainstorms.

Located on the outer edge of a park, wooden power pole #404 towers above an expansive, grassy meadow. During sunny weather, local residents often fly kites here; one of the less sensible kite fliers must have struck the power line by accident during the rainstorm.

Sapnap steers his van off the street and parks along the sidewalk which lines one of the park's edges. He hops down, swinging his feet outward to avoid the water flowing beside the curb.

Putting on a pair of heavy-duty work gloves, Sapnap jogs to pole #404. At its top, the fuse box's metallic surface glints in the faint light peeking through the storm clouds above. A glance at the power line reveals none of the wires have ruptured or exposed the copper coils within.

Opening the van's back doors, Sapnap selects a ladder and sets it up beside pole #404's wooden base. The ladder's legs sink into the soaked mud as Sapnap climbs the steps to reach the fuse box.

Peeling open the wet metal door, Sapnap assesses his options. He could simply leave the fuse box alone until better weather, for the power line itself does not require repairs. However, customers will undoubtedly complain about the lack of power until the end of the rainstorm.