Day One.
It was nearly midnight, and the store was dead silent except for the soft buzz of the overhead lights and the mechanical hum of the refrigerators.
Juno sat behind the counter, doodling lazily on the corner of a receipt just to keep her hands busy when the familiar chime of the automatic door broke the stillness.
She didn't look up right away.
"Hey," came the low, calm voice.
Juno grinned faintly, finally glancing up.
"Back again? You're starting to make the other weirdos look inconsistent."
He chuckled under his breath—that quiet, almost uncertain laugh she was starting to recognize. Like laughing was still something he had to remember how to do.
"Is that a good thing?" he asked.
"Depends. You planning on buying up all the bitter sludge again, or should I introduce you to the good stuff?"
He shrugged, a half-smile flickering across his face.
"I like the bitter stuff."
For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something more—something clever—but he just handed her cash, took his coffee, and headed for the exit.
No weird questions tonight. No unexpected sincerity.
Just coffee.
Juno thought about asking him more.
But she didn't.
Some questions were better when people chose to answer them.
--
Day Two It was raining.
Just a light drizzle, enough to make the sidewalk shine under the neon glow of the signs outside. Zach stepped into the store with water clinging to the tips of his hair. Juno looked up from a shelf she was restocking.
She caught herself staring and looked away as he made his coffee. She let silence settle as he walked over to the counter, placing his drink down and grabbing some cash.
He hesitated for a second before speaking. "You're always here."
Juno grinned and jokes "Yeah, I don't actually work here I just come in and pretend so I can wait for you to come by."
A ghost of a smile. He knew she was joking, but she could tell he liked being the focus of her attention, as if he wasn't used to being seen. He looks at her with a subtle intensity "You like it here?"
She shrugged. "It's a job. Pays the bills. Mostly. Aiming for the whole starving artist vibe"
Zach nodded slightly, but he didn't push, as if not knowing what the social etiquette for a conversation was.
She wanted to ask who he was, but something told her the mystery was more interesting.
Instead, she pointed at the corn dogs near the register. "Those are fresh, by the way. Well. 'Fresh' is a generous term. But if you're hungry...
" He glanced at them, then back at her. "Are they good?"
"No," she said honestly. "But they're warm, and I think that's most of the battle." He grabbed one anyway, and she rang him up.
She passed him some sauce sachets and he looked down at them with confusion.
"For this?"
She almost laughed at his expression, he looked so confused, he was so lost in every day things it was almost endearing. She didn't want to come across as mocking him.
"Yep! Makes them almost edible, ones ketchup, ones mustard."
He looked at the corndog. "Honestly I thought this was a dessert."
"Yep. Red one's ketchup, yellow's mustard. Enhances the disappointment."
He nodded and picked up the sachets.
"See you around, Zach."
He nodded again, grabbing his coffee. "Yeah. See you."
Then he left, disappearing into the night like he always did.
There was no way Zach was just some lost rich guy.
That wasn't the kind of lost he was.
Juno remembered the second night he'd come in—how he'd stood there, coffee in hand, and told her he hadn't grown up with a lot of choices.
It hadn't been a throwaway comment.
It had been honest. Quiet. Heavy in a way she hadn't fully heard at the time.
Now, she did.
Whoever he was, he must have had his reasons for keeping it private.
--
Day Four. He didn't show up on day three.
She told herself it didn't matter. She still found herself glancing at the door every now and then, her pen stalling just slightly each time the chime didn't ring.
But on day four, he came in again—this time just as she was unwrapping her dinner behind the counter. He wandered the store, picking some things up before making his way to the counter.
He eyed the container as he approached. "...That smells good." Juno blinked and looked down at the warm dish in front of her.
It was just a simple casserole.
Zach nodded toward the meal. "Home cooked?"
"Yep. I make extra sometimes. I live alone so I try to make big batches. What junk are you putting in your body tonight?" she asked.
Zach held up a bottle of water and instant ramen cup.
"Dinner of kings."
There was a short pause as he glanced at the container again, then back at her. "You ever think about doing something else?"
That caught her off guard. "You mean... like quitting?"
He nodded.
She blinked at him. "...I mean, yeah. But if I'm being honest, I like it here. I spend a lot of time alone to work on my art, gives me time to think, lots of inspiring weirdos come in to give me ideas." She looks up at him with a smirk.
Their eyes meet and his look cuts through her sarcasm. She feels vulnerable enough to respond. Enough to share what she really feels.
"I guess, I don't really feel like I belong anywhere else.. Here I can just watch people and pretend like I'm participating in the world. Without actually doing it. Its why I like the late-shift."
She waves her hand flippantly despite the honesty. He didn't push further. Just listened. And that meant more than she expected. He nodded as if agreeing.
He stayed for a few more minutes, pouring hot water into his noodles and eating them by the edge of the counter. This was the longest he had stayed.
Neither of them said anything, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was companionable. And when he finally left, he gave her a small nod that felt almost like a quiet thank-you.
—-
Day Five.
The store was unusually warm that night, the air thick and heavy from the lingering spring heatwave.
When Zach pushed open the door, Juno barely looked up at first—until something felt different.
He wasn't wearing his jacket.
He carried it draped casually over one arm, and for the first time, she could really see him.
Without the baggy layers, he was...
well, built.
Broad shoulders, strong arms, the kind of solid, unshowy strength that didn't need to announce itself. His black vest clung slightly to his frame exposing his arms and hinting at the muscles underneath.
Juno's froze in place.
She blinked once, forcing herself to look back down at the counter like she hadn't just been caught off guard.
Oh.
She wasn't blind.
She just... hadn't really looked before.
And now she was very aware of him—his height, the easy way he moved, the way he filled the space.
She felt heat rise up the back of her neck, and immediately ducked her head lower over the counter, grabbing a newspaper and pretending to focus on the days news..
He didn't seem to notice the shift.
If he did, he didn't say anything.
He didn't go to the coffee machine right away. Instead, he wandered.
Like he didn't want to leave too soon. She watched him roam the aisles with no real goal—pausing by the drink fridge, then over by the snack wall, then circling back around to the counter. "You're staring at the chips like they offended you?" she asked when he finally approached.
He smiled faintly "Honestly, some of these flavours do."
She laughed as he brought over some sweet potato chips. "Wow nobody buys these."
"Next thing I know, you'll be buying movies from the dusty shelf we haven't updated since top hats were in fashion."
He gave her a look. "...You sell movies?"
"....". "Its only selling if someone actually buys, which nobody does.
Now it's just a graveyard of bad choices and lost dreams." She motions to a rack in the corner and he glances over.
He asks "What's the worst one?"
"Oh, that's easy. There's a rom-com over there so bad it made me question if love should be legal."
That got a laugh out of him.
A real one.
Juno absently flicked through the newspaper by the register. He leaned against the counter and opened the bag, offering her one"
She took a chip and turned a page, then paused. "Huh. They banned werewolves from the national baseball league." Zach raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah. New regulation. Too strong, apparently."
He gave a short nod. "Seems fair, honestly. Hard to pitch against a guy who can hear the ball leave your hand."
That made her pause. "...Yeah. True," she said quietly. " Maybe they should have their own league? Would be crazy to see people turning into giant dogs, running around chasing a ball. Wait.. am i allowed to say that?" She looked flustered not knowing if that was offensive.
Zach looked amused "I think it would be pretty funny."
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
Then, he finished the bag and looked at her again—curious, soft.
"...so do I get to hear what you're writing?"
Juno blinked. "...What?"
"Your sketchpad, your drawings look cool, I'd love to know more." He wasn't teasing.
He wasn't saying it to flatter her.
He was genuinely interested. She stared at him for a moment.
Nobody ever asked to see her work.
She wasn't used to feeling seen.
But something about the way he asked—quiet, almost hesitant—made her pause. "...Okay," she said slowly. She slid the sketchpad across the counter and flipped it open to a page near the middle—nothing too polished, but something honest.
There was drawings of a city with tons of notes around the sides.
A character mid-motion.
Lean, intense. A moment frozen in ink.
Zach studied it in silence, brow slightly furrowed. "So it's post-apocalyptic" he said.
Juno swallowed. "Yeah, I like lonely settings I guess. It's set in the future."
She went on to explain her story, about a group of people growing up in the wastelands of the world. Her characters, their arcs and the potential plot twists.
And he listened, he asked questions. Not ones with doubt or antagonism, but genuinely interested, as if the theme resonated with him.
She paused for a moment, realising how much time had passed. She felt like she was bothering him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to waste so much of your time. I'm not used to people asking."
He gave a small shrug. "It's not a waste, it's important. Most people can't see good things."
There was something in the way he said it—like he knew what it meant to be ignored. To be unseen.
Juno didn't know what to say to that. So she didn't say anything. She just watched him, while he looked at her drawings and notes like they were worth more than she thought. Zach nodded slowly. "So what do you want to do with your story?"
Juno hesitated.
It wasn't that she was embarrassed. It was just that... no one really asked.
"Inspire people I guess," she admitted. "To tell stories. Good stories." She gave a small shrug. "I think a lot about worlds and characters, I want to share them. I don't care if many people read it but I'd love to get published one day. I think comics are a great way to share stories and art."
Zach watched her for a moment. "Well if you finish your book, I'd read it."
Juno blinked. It was such a simple thing to say, but something about the way he said it made it feel real.
She swallowed and looked away. "Yea? I'd like that."
Zach flipped through the pages of Juno's sketchpad carefully, his fingertips brushing over the edges as he studied each sketch, all the loose notes.
Something about her notes and ideas felt familiar. Almost nostalgic.
She explained the world more than the plot, but something about it felt as though he knew this.
He didn't know much about art, but even he could tell she was talented. Her characters had a certain energy to them—bold, expressive, alive. Often she would write little quotes next to them, feeling out the way they would talk.
And then, about halfway through, he stopped.
Something about this one caught his eye.
A young man stood in a confident pose, his stance wide, his expression sharp with determination. His hair was wild, swept in a way that felt both effortless and deliberate. There was something striking about the way she had drawn his eyes—intense, purposeful, like he had seen things no one else had.
Zach' stomach twisted.
He knew this character? Exactly like this, as it looked. It was rough, but He knew it.
It wasn't just that the character looked like someone he should know—it was deeper than that. Like a memory just out of reach, slipping through his fingers whenever he tried to grasp it.
"This one," he said finally, pointing to the sketch. "I love this design."
Juno blinked in surprise. "Oh—really?"
"Yeah," Zach said, still staring at it. "You should use it."
Juno let out a short laugh. "I mean, I like him, but he's just a rough concept. I'm still figuring him out."
Zach nodded slowly, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
Something about this guy—this character—felt... right.
Like he belonged in a story that Zach himself might have read.
"Well," Zach said, pulling himself out of the thought, "I think you should keep working on him."
Juno smirked. "Wow, look at you, giving out creative direction now. Big step up from 'guy who didn't know how a coffee machine works.'"
Zach huffed out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Just saying. He looks... important."
Juno glanced at the drawing again. She had liked this design too—there was something special about it, something she had felt even while sketching it. She had written out her protagonist but never nailed his design, maybe this was the one.
But hearing someone else say it—someone who wasn't just nodding politely, who actually meant it—felt different.
Better.
She wasn't used to this.
Encouragement.
Belief.
Zach turned another page, looking at more of her work. "Your ideas are really good" he murmured. "Can't wait to see more.."
Juno rubbed the back of her head, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically awkward. "Yeah, well... I'll do my best."
Zach looked up at her, his gaze steady. "That's all any of us can do."
Something about the way he said it made Juno pause.
She studied him for a second, wondering why he said things like that. Like he knew what it was like to chase something just out of reach. Like he knew what it felt like to keep pushing, even when it seemed impossible.
Before she could figure out what to say, Zach straightened and closed the sketchpad gently, sliding it back toward her.
"I should go," he said.
Juno nodded, still feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "Yeah. You gonna be back for your usual bitter-as-hell coffee?"
He gave a small smirk. "Probably."
Juno rolled her eyes. "Try not to sound too excited."
Zach grabbed his coffee and started toward the door. Just before stepping out, he glanced back.
And then he was gone, disappearing into the night just like he always did.
Juno exhaled, staring at the closed door for a moment before glancing down at her sketchbook.
She ran her fingers over the page with that character—the one Zach had pointed out.
He looks... important.
Maybe Zach was right.
Maybe she should keep working on him.
—-
The night air was cool as Zach walked through the quiet streets of the city, his mind restless.
Juno's voice still lingered in his head.
"I mean, I like him, but he's just a rough concept. I'm still figuring him out."
He hadn't expected her work to affect him the way it did. It wasn't just the ideas.. It was something deeper, something about that character she had drawn. That face, that stance, that energy—it had struck something in him, like an echo of something he should remember but couldn't.
Or maybe... something that hadn't happened yet.
He sighed, shaking his head.
This wasn't why he was here.
He was here to train the others. To make sure this world didn't suffer the same fate as his own.
And yet...
The more time he spent in this world, the harder it was to ignore just how different it was.
How alive it was.
There were places like Juno's convenience store, full of laughter and late-night conversations. People with dreams that weren't crushed by war. Streets that weren't cracked and broken, skies that weren't darkened by smoke.
He wasn't used to it.
He wasn't supposed to get attached.
He isn't going to stay and he needed to stop indulging himself.
He didn't belong here.