Benchtrio's Amazing Guide to City Living | Ft. The Hermits & SBI

A house downstairs, another upstairs

Hello! Have I just started another WIP fanfic? Yes. Yes, I have. This one is a tad easier to write though, because I have school and since I have based this mostly on irl situations, it's much easier to write! I am also sorta experiencing writer's block as well but the other fanfics should be updated soon! :D

Enjoy!

*runs*

(Titles are the lyrics to 'Where does love live?' by Michalis Hatzigiannis)

*

Ranboo hates mornings.

Monday mornings especially.

The start of the week just has something that triggers the unhappy hormones in his brain and makes the soreness in his very old (not very old) bones excruciatingly painful. Really, he feels like he might die; flop on the earth and splutter like a fish out of water and eventually have crosses for eyes.

Like, all his bones start aching the moment the clock strikes midnight on Sunday and it's awful. It's like he is Cinderella at the grand palace one moment, and a beaten ragdoll the next.

It must have to do with the fact that he has work on Monday mornings, y'know? Actually, he works all days of the week, excluding the weekend. Blessed be the weekend. He is technically unemployed -a minor, in fact- but still! He works part-time, with no contract, money as black as coal, and he likes to think that he has a normal partnership with the pawn shop owner.

Okay, maybe he doesn't grasp the exact concept of the word 'partnership' but he brings the guy tons of stuff a week! That has to be a sort of partnership, right?

And hey, the bills have to be paid somehow, unless he wants him and his roommates to be booted out of the attic room of the block of flats they've been renting for nearly a year. Either that or never have a normal shower or a warm meal ever again.

Plus, the other residents are rather nice, Ranboo likes them and he sure as Hell doesn't want to be evicted because of something as small as rent.

He really does feel like he is going to die, though. A very slow, very painful death while he waves goodbye to this very, very cruel world -and not because it's a Monday.

Why is he running again?

He hadn't done his morning stretches this morning, he was not prepared for a long, fast-paced jogging session on the very crooked pavement of the outer city either. Jogging wasn't exactly the activity he had gone out for, that much he can tell. He had only put on his two-toned mask and sunglasses (what he likes to call his work clothes) and left the building. Hadn't he gone out on a 'shopping' spree? Did he break something again?

He barely dips his head as the blade of a thrown axe misses his face by a millimeter and gets stuck on the side of a building with a loud crack. Oh, he remembers now! And his stomach flips for the... fifth? sixth? -he stopped keeping track after the third flip- time today.

He is so screwed, he'll be lucky to make it back alive!

Look, running from a top-ten ranking hero so early in the day was not something that Ranboo had expected nor had wanted to do today! Why he forgot such a jarring detail in the middle of his little escape is entirely beyond him as well. He hadn't expected to be running away from anyone, actually!

Well, at least, in the crowded sidewalk, he had believed that he would make it out without as much as a scratch!

That theory came out false, obviously. Ranboo can't exactly blend in with normal people. Normal people aren't as tall as the freaking streetlights, they don't have curved horns, their skin is not split down the middle -head to toe- like a ying-yang, and they surely don't have a tufted tail protruding from their butt, swishing back and forth with seemingly no control over it!