leenishinoya

[leenishinoya]

‘Round the World

Post time skip Nishinoya X y/n

[I used 1st person POV from the perspective of Y/N]

Chapter 1

"I'm telling you Y/N; this is unacceptable!" Ma shouts at me.

"I know that already, Ma!" I shout in response.

Lately, we've been on the wrong foot, constantly fighting over trivial matters sprinkled among significant ones. Every day is comparable to a chicken fight, and even the neighbors have had enough of us. In short, we're at each other's throats.

"You're already 20 years old, and you still don't have your own house," She starts, but I'm tired enough of this same conversation. I stomp towards my room and slam the door when Ma chases after me and catches it before it could shut in place. She stands angrily in my doorframe as I bury my face in the cold pillow, messily resting on my bed.

"You know I've been saving up money to get out of here, and you're still in my ear every waking moment," I retort. Ma's face scrunches up. I've been saving up all of my checks from various jobs for the past few months. Recently, I dropped out of college after realizing it was taking too much of a toll on my wallet. I need as much money as possible to get out of this hellhole of a town. There's nothing to do here but lounge in diners and go to a busted, half-abandoned roller-skate rink. I would love to move somewhere out of the country and exotic, quite literally anywhere but here.

"I refuse to have a lazy, no-good freeloader raising my light bill and eating my food," Ma snarks from afar. Trust me: I'm undoubtedly grateful to her for raising me for 18 years and allowing me to stay in the house during college to dodge lodging costs. And I don't think I'll ever be able to repay her, but I won't act like she isn't the most bewildering person I've ever met.

I burst out in rage.

"Well, if you don't want me here, then I'll just leave!"

The room goes silent. My expression is in a scowl, and my face feels hot. The shock on Ma's face says it all. "Fine," she says after what feels like a lifetime, "then get out."

I suddenly feel regret flush into my body, seemingly flowing faster than my blood. But I won't let Ma get the best of me. I speed past her silhouette in the doorway and navigate through the halls to find the storage closet. I noisily grab a duffle bag and go back to my room. In the background, I hear Ma talking on the phone, spilling my business.

"Yup! I know, right! She should've been out of here ages ago!" she stage whispers. (*whispers loudly for my non-theater kids*)

"Have fun rotting in the retirement home, you old hag!" I yell on the way out, quickly breaking into a sprint before she can make me pay for that remark. I run as far as my legs and lungs will take me. Past my favorite diner, the one that puts extra love into their fries. Past the creepy cemetery that kids dare each other to trek across for Halloween. Even past Nana Goldy's house--she's not my Nana, everyone calls her that.

I come to a stop at the outskirts of downtown. It's less busy over here, and it's quiet enough for me to clear my head.

Two things were clear right now: One, I have nowhere to go. And two, I'm hungry as hell.

What was I thinking? Sure, Ma is annoying as fuck, and I lived in a dull, endless cycle of capitalism and labor. But at least I was safe--not sitting on a damp park bench at 7 pm. I must be the smooth-brain of the goddamn century. I need to figure out a plan and fast. Someone could snatch my ass at any given moment, and I wouldn't know a thing!

I think Satan accidentally received my fears instead because a man suddenly pops up behind me.

"Um,"

Shit.

"Excuse-"

A let out the loudest yell I've ever released in my entire life. By instinct, I whip my body around, and my fist collides with his jaw instantly. He flies back in pain, and I collect my belongings and get ready to speed off.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!" the strange man winces. He has a slight accent that I don't recognize. "I was gonna ask you for directions, but I guess I startled you. My bad," he grins sincerely. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to get the hell out of here, but something about his expression made me let my guard down, just a little.

"I'm sorry for slugging you," I start, still keeping a good 3 meters between us, "but I kinda hafta go."

He sits up energetically. His left hand is still cradling his cheek. "Before you go, would you mind telling me how to get downtown?" he says. Never in my whole life have I ever met a man who asks for directions from his assaulter. Oh yeah, he could be trying to turn me over to the cops! I don't wanna go to jail! Well, at least I'd have a roof over my head. Wait, what's wrong with me? I socked him in the jaw; the least I could do was tell him how to get help.

"You won't call the cops on me, right?" I question.

"Nah, it was my fault after all," he reassures me. He picks himself off of the ground, revealing his structure in the dimming sunlight. He has a sturdy but slim build, like an athlete. Dressed in black cargo shorts, a cheap, loose-fitting v-neck, and a run-down pair of sneakers, he was beaming. He looks like someone's father--what the hell am I doing?

I give him the directions to downtown, along with the nearest emergency room. He smiled brightly and thanked me countless amounts of times. What a character.

I wait until he's out of sight in the direction I pointed to and make my way downtown as well. I need to find somewhere to sleep; and something to eat. I don't have any friends to call on. Most of them are either across the country from moving away for college or living in the dorms here. The one friend I have to call, Sid, is living with their grandmother and five brothers, so I'd have to be out of my mind to move in there if they would even allow me. Today has to be one of the worst days of my life. Drowning in self-pity, I stumble through the noisy streets of downtown. Vibrant neon signs line the walkway, inviting pedestrians into various restaurants, stores, and clubs. I've never been to some of these stores; their price tags are too demanding for my just-over-minimum wage jobs. Finally, a little tucked-away bar squished between two multimillion companies catches my eye. It looks like the perfect place to collect my thoughts--for real this time--and fill my stomach.

The moment I enter the bar, instant warmth surrounds me. No more than a dozen workers weave through the tables accompanied by a comfortable amount of people. I'm sure I stick out like a sore thumb with my bags and tired expression, but I'm too hungry to care right now.

I walk up to the reception counter, where a pretty lady was standing behind the small counter. She gives me a big smile before asking me how many people. "One," I say, but then I hear a more or less familiar voice from the furthest corner to the right of the building.

"Over here!" shouts the man who I decked in the park, wearing an even bigger smile than the reception lady. What even is my luck at this point. Miss Reception Lady spoke before me.

"Your friend?"

"Not in the slightest."

Reluctantly, I walk over to the man's booth and plop down. "We're not friends. I'll pay for myself," I mumble. He wipes buffalo sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then takes a swig of his drink.

"I'll pay. it's the least I can do in return for you helping me find this awesome restaurant. Man, the food in America is top tier."

"All I did was tell you how to get to downtown," I reply.

"But it's because of you that I was even able to get here!" He lets out a hearty laugh that seems to melt away my stress.

"So you're a foreigner? I don't recognize your accent," I figure it wouldn't be too bad to start up a conversation.

He tells me that he's originally from Japan but had been traveling the world for some time now. From Japan to Spain to Portugal, Brazil, and Egypt, he plans to visit every country--at least once. He shows me pictures of his travels; the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Tokyo Skytree, even Christ the Redeemer. He talked about the time he participated in a bullfight with a 96 year-old-man. Fascinating. This man with a permanent smile and a bruised cheek was living my dream life. I asked him to tell me more. But he insisted I talked more about myself and why I was sitting on a park bench at 7 pm.

We talked for a good two hours. By then, I've ordered a burger and fries with a Sprite and chips. A different lady, this one with a more solemn expression, approaches our booth. "Are you ready to pay?" she asks the man. He glances at our empty plates and cups, then nods. I begin to retrieve my wallet when he pulls out his own.

"It's on me," he assures with a smile.

"But we've eaten so much, I can pay for my part," I object.

He looks me in the eyes as if he were deciding something important. After a minute of awkward eye contact, he rested his elbows on the table. "Okay," he grins widely, "in return for paying for your meal, be my escort."

Escort? Escort? I mean, he's a foreigner--he must be mistranslating. But what if he isn't? What if it's all an act and those pictures were just deep fakes? What if he's trying to lure me into a trap like he's done to many other young women, and I'm his next victim?

"Oh, I don't think that's the word. Guide? Is it?"

My anxiety levels go down. "A guide? Guide you where?"

"Around your city, of course."

"I don't even know your name."

He extends his hand. "Yu Nishinoya. You can call me Nishinoya."

You shake his hand in return. "Y/N, pleased to meet you." [yall I just realized Y/N has the same initials and Yu Nishinoya I'm ecstatic and an idiot]

CHAPTER 1 END

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