Our Fragile Routine

Downtown, dusk is falling on some suburban commercial street. Storefronts line either side of the road, clothing boutiques, a barber shop, an antique shop, the usual candidates on a town that has yet to grow too big for its own good. It does get busy at times, but on a lazy midweek afternoon such as this, business is drying up and most places that don’t offer dinner are already closing down. Clerks rush to flip over the signs on their doors to “Closed” with a telling spring to their step.

I wish I could follow their example, but the small café by the corner where I work isn’t quite ready to close. My shift still has a couple of hours left, a couple of hours to keep things tidy, watch the few customers we have, listen to the same indie rock playlist modestly humming in the background, and read manga behind the counter. Technically speaking, you could say I’m the barista, though doing so would insult every trueborn, professional barista in existence.

Call me Leo, just your average college junior counting the days until graduation. Despite my current occupation, all forms of coffee taste equally, unpleasantly acrid to me, and if you ask me for your drink “on the rocks”, I’m liable to reach for a pebble from the plant pot and add it in. As one might hence imagine, I’m not a favourite among the clients either, though sticking to the always trusty “welcome”, “thank you”, and “have a nice day” with a suitable smile usually keeps things together. I’m not great, but it’s passable, which for pay that’s decent, if not amazing, is enough.

Though as neutral as I am about the job in general, there is one great reason that keeps me around.

“Leo!”

“Buh…!” I startle, quickly flinging my book closed and tossing it to the back of the shelf under the counter. “What is it?”

A girl stands across the counter, her long golden hair tied into a ponytail that hangs from the right side of her head, framing bright, emerald eyes and a playful smile. “Can’t you be a little more discreet? You’ll get scolded again at this rate!”

“Uhm, not as long as you don’t tell on me,” I say, already moving towards the nearby coffee machine on instinct.

“Then get started on two espressos for the two gentlemen by the window, please.”

“You got it.” I set about loading a carefully measured amount of ground coffee into the machine, skipping a few breaths to escape the scent.

Kim lags around, leaning over the counter, looking a bit tired. Fortunately there aren’t any other customers to look after. “So how’s the book?” she asks, likely meaning the one I just hid.

I shrug. “Alright, it’s an isekai, but with a special forces squad being taken to another world.”

“Like military?”

“Yeah, military special forces, ever seen… what was that movie again?”

“Dude yeah, I know the type, basically every action movie from the last decade,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “That’s so tacky.”

“I’m liking the battles so far,” I say, already working on the second cup.

“Bah, I bet they shoot down everything in their path,” Kim continues. “Where’s the drama in that? If you don’t see the characters get their butt kicked, how are you supposed to care for them?”

“You just want to see people suffer.” I place two covered paper cups on the table right in front of Kim. “Sadist. Two espressos.”

“Shut up,” she shoots back with a grin, taking a cup in each hand and marching off to the table by the window, where two older gentlemen are chatting their afternoon away.

Kim is a sophomore at the same college I attend, though in a different course, so we mostly interact here, at work. We were both hired about six months ago and eventually got to know each other, from which we discovered a shared interest in manga and anime, even though our specific tastes differ. The store has a bookshelf with several kinds of reading material, though mostly manga, which is kept around for customers to borrow as a ‘selling point’ of the café. In reality, Kim and I are the ones that do most of the reading during slow moments.

Have I thought of inviting Kim out? Yes, and more than that, I actually tried a few times in the past, but each time she apologized, saying she was busy with homework or projects. While I can’t be sure whether she’s that invested in her schoolwork or just came up with excuses to turn me down, it’s clear that our relationship simply isn’t moving in that direction, and I’m fine with that. Frankly, I’m also, legitimately very busy with my own assignments, and just being able to share our hobbies does wonders for making our otherwise boring job tolerable.

Kim delivers the drinks and strikes up a little conversation with the customers while I clean the coffee machine. The street outside the window dims to muted blues as the sun hides behind the buildings. The indie playlist reaches its last song and loops back to the start. Afternoon rolls into evening.

It’s near the end of another regular day.

As I finish wiping down the coffee machine, I notice someone approaching the front door. Tall, wide shoulders, with buzzcut hair and aviator glasses. When I recognize the manager, my jaw locks up for a moment, half a mind to just escape to the back for a moment so I can delay meeting him. But when he reaches the door and rams his shoulder against it, failing to make it budge, I have no choice but to head over. I fiddle with the lock for several seconds, trying to find that sweet spot that finally allows the door to slide open.

“Why is the door locked?” is the first thing he says as he steps in.

“Hey Eddy,” I greet. “That’s not it, the lock’s busted and doesn’t open properly, remember?”

“Then just tape the pin to keep it unlocked.”

“It won’t stay shut that way, and then what about the AC?”

Eddy sighs as he reaches the register computer and starts checking whatever it is a manager must check. “There’s always something with this old building.”

“Can’t we just buy a new lock?” I wonder aloud.

“That’s up to the landlord, not that he’d let us change it to begin with.”

“Alright, but what about the flickering lights in the storage room, or the hole in the break room wall, or the leak in the employee bathroom. Can nothing be done about any of that?”

All I get back from Eddy is a shrug.

“With all due respect, Eddy, if an inspector shows up one day and sees all that…”

Eddy snaps his fingers and signals for me to be quiet, glancing at the two customers still chatting away by the window. I’m well aware that they’re out of earshot and not paying us any mind, but he’s always been strict about that sort of thing.

Nonetheless, he lowers his voice and replies, “Look, you didn’t hear it from me, but supposedly the landlord’s relative is in the town council or something, so that’s not gonna happen, inspector or repairs. It sucks, but at least the rent is cheap.”

He locks his eyes back on the register screen. I roll mine with a resigned sigh, knowing that’s the end of that.

“Hey Eddy,” says Kim, approaching the counter. “May I start setting the chairs on the tables to sweep?”

“It’s not closing time yet,” he tells her.

“Yeah, but we’re nearly there and chances are we won’t get any more clients-”

“Hey, you got a necklace on?” Eddy interrupts, pointing to Kim’s neck, from which hangs a small golden chain.

Kim reaches up to her neck and touches the chain, only then noticing it. “...oh, I forgot I had it.”

“No jewelry while handling food,” he states, and then, looking at me with a sardonic smirk, “The building might not be up to code, but that’s no excuse for us.”

“Sorry, I’ll take it off right away.” Kim walks through the doorway behind the counter leading to the back of the building, probably to the tiny break room where we leave our personal items.

“Also, what’s this doing here?” Eddy asks, showing me the book I had hidden under the counter. I grind my teeth, trying to come up with an excuse, but the look in his eyes warns me that he won’t buy it, so I just shut my mouth and look away. “I told you before,” he continues as he pulls out the napkin I was using as a bookmark, “The books are for the customers. If you need something to do, there’s always work that needs doing.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” I say, noncommittal. No matter what he says, I’m not eager to spend every moment here hunting for the next minute task that needs doing, but I suppose it’s his job to try.

He hands me the book, almost throwing it into my hands. “Get that back where it belongs. And organize the counter; the shelves are a mess.” Then he turns around and heads into the back corridor as well, where there’s also a tiny office for him.

Rolling my eyes, I flip through the pages of the manga and set the napkin back on the correct page, then slide the book back into the bookshelf, just in case he checks later. There’s no chance anyone will pick the book before the end of the day anyway.

I hear the rasp of chairs and glance over as the two gentlemen leave their table and head for the counter. “Hello sir,” I greet them with my best customer service smile, “May I help you with anything else?”

The man gives me a cold, disinterested glance. “Could you call your pretty coworker out here for a moment?”

“She should be out shortly. In the meantime I’d be more than happy to help if you need anything-”

“No no, that won’t be necessary. We just wanted a word with her, thanks.”

I raise my eyebrow, wondering what their intentions might be, but Kim spares me the task of making a call when she emerges from the back, now without her necklace. “Did you mean me?” she asks cheerfully.

The two gentlemen’s faces instantly light up, but something about the small grins that creep into their faces rubs me the wrong way. “Yes sweetheart,” the second man says. “We just wanted to let you know we enjoyed your company very much.” He reaches over the counter, offering her a rolled up money bill. “This is just for you, okay? Don’t let them take it away from you.”

My first instinct is to shoot back at the insinuation, yet manage to hold my tongue. “Oh, you’re very kind!” Kim says, beaming her best smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed your stay here. Come back anytime!”

“We will long as you’re here, sweetheart.” Both men head to the door. Regretfully, it happens to open just fine for them. “Have a nice evening.”

Kim waves them goodbye, still holding her nicest smile. The door swings shut as the two men take their leave down the street. Once they walk out of sight, she pushes the bill into the jar we’ve got for tips next to the register, which we always distribute evenly between us at the end of the shift.

It’s not uncommon for her to get tips personally, but she’s always put them in the jar, even though I have told her it’s okay to keep them. Naturally, I’d do the same, should anyone ever feel like tipping me personally. It’s an implicit honor code between us.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies with a gentler, slightly mischievous smile. “Eddy told me we can close.”

“Already? Wow, that’s generous.”

“Ain’t it?” she seconds, quickly rushing for the door to flip it over to ‘Closed’. “So let’s tidy things up and get out of here early~!”

“Now wait a moment, who said it’s so you could leave early?” says Eddy, also emerging once more from the back. “This place needs a deep clean, tables, bookshelf, bathrooms, the back. I want it all to look neat when I come in tomorrow.”

My heart drops into my stomach. “Common…”

“Don’t give me that. When was the last time you did a deep clean?”

“About a month ago…?” Kim offers unhelpfully.

“Then it’s a bit overdue. Here.” He throws a set of keys at me which I just barely manage to catch. “Close the shop once you’re done.”

“Hold on a moment,” I call out, seeing him march towards the front door, “You’re leaving?!”

“Dude, my shift ended two hours ago. I’m only here because the owner called me back in to check some files for him.” He struggles forcefully with the lock for a few moments until he gets the door to open. “Oh, and one more thing, there’s a bag of frozen nuggets in the break room fridge. Who put them there?”

“You did,” I retort.

“Huh?”

“Yes,” Kim seconds. “Remember a couple weeks ago when you said you had a craving for chicken nuggets?”

“Huh,” he relaxes a fraction. “Well I don’t care for them anymore. Throw them out or take them home with you, just get rid of them. See you tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I say with a shrug.

“See you tomorrow,” says Kim, even though Eddy has already parted and it’s unlikely he heard her through the slowly closing door.

Kim and I look at each other with equally resigned expressions.

“…want some chicken nuggets?” I venture.

“Well, they’re free,” she sighs.

“Now?”

“Oh you want to share?”

“Might as well. A little something to snack on while we clean.”

“You know what? Sure. I’ll start cleaning out here in the meantime.”

“Be back in a minute,” I say as I retreat into the back corridor and head to the break room. It’s a tiny space with a small countertop, a couple cupboards, a mini fridge and a humble stovetop. There’s no table, just a couple stools to sit wherever possible.

The modest kitchenette is decently equipped, but is barely ever used. The café doesn’t sell anything that cannot be prepared up front or heated in a microwave, so there’s no need for it beyond just being where we stash our bags and other personal items. According to Eddy, the original plan was to have it refurnished into something else, until the landlord, go figure, blocked it.

But I suppose thanks to that, we may enjoy the convenience of it on occasion. So I take out an old pan, some butter we keep, and the bag of frozen nuggets from the freezer, and get to work, first coating the pan with a plentiful layer of butter before seating it on the stove. I turn the dial up between a medium and strong flame so it will be ready for the nuggets in no time.

Finding myself with a minute or two to spare, I head back to the front of the store. “Hey Kim,” I call out, “Need help with anything?”

I find her hunched over the counter, reading a slip of paper. She doesn’t seem to even notice me.

“Kim?”

“Ah, sorry!” she exclaims, breaking out of her trance. “Uhm, what did you say?”

“What have you got there?” I ask, feeling curious about the paper that entranced her so. On second glance, it’s not a common paper, but a thick sheet of something that seems like papyrus, rolled with a pair of wooden cylinders. A real, ancient style scroll, like I’d never seen before in person. “Is it some sort of collector’s item?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Kim explains. “I can’t find any brand or title, and I can’t figure it out from the content either.”

“What’s it say?”

She steps aside. “Check it out.”

I lean over the mysterious scroll and read the words, each letter ornately drawn, yet not uniformly enough to seem computer made.

“SILENT SITTING CROWN

WOLVES PROWL THE ROTTING CARCASS

KNIGHTS OF TWILIGHT OATH

MEISTERS OF IRON AND SOUL

PROUD PILGRIMS OF WILD FRONTIER

“ORPHANS FORSAKEN

CHASE THEIR FATE, IN LIMBO BOUND

TIDES, IN DEPTHS OBSCURED

THIRST FOR SHARDS OF SHATTERED GODS

BE MY GUEST, COME AND WITNESS”

I finish the passage, confused. “...is this a prophecy of some sort?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” says Kim. “Had you seen it before?”

“Not in any manga or game I’ve played.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a fantasy fan.” She grins smugly.

“Oh common, let me just look it up,” I say, pulling out my phone.

“It doesn’t count if you look it… up…” Kim pauses, glancing around. “Wait, does something smell burnt to you?”

“Burnt?” I freeze as I also notice it, the piercing scent of burning food. “Oh fuck…” I murmur before shooting towards the break room. Then the fire alarm starts beeping. “Oh FUCK!”

I rush into the break room and immediately notice the open flame billowing from the buttered pan I set before. “Goddammit!” I exclaim, running my hands through my hair until it pulls on my scalp.

Kim follows right behind me and yelps when she sees the flame. “Fire?! What did you do?!”

“I just set it up to heat!”

“Okay but how?!”

“I don’t know! I just took my eyes off it for a moment!”

Both of us scamper around the room in a panic, looking for a way to put out the flame. I slam the cupboards open, looking for a lid that might cover the burning pan. “We have to suffocate it! Try and dampen a towel-”

“Water!”

I turn around just in time to see Kim pouring the jug of drinking water we keep into the burning pan. “No!!” I scream, too late to make a difference.

Burning grease erupts from the pan in all directions as soon as the first drops of water land. I shoot past the stove, wrapping my arms around Kim to push us away from the surging flames. I feel the heat wash past my neck and ears as we bounce off the wall and pause on the open doorway. Fire splashes up on the cupboards and quickly floods the ceiling.

“We have to get out of here!” I grab Kim’s hand, pulling her out of the break room and down the corridor.

“W-wait! My necklace!”

But I hold her firmly, not really listening. My main concern is to get us out, as I don’t trust this rickety building not to instantly become a deadly pyre. I pull Kim around the counter and reach for the door.

But the door jams in its frame, refusing to move. “Dammit, not now!” Cursing and impatient, I give the handle a forceful tug, and I get to keep it as it pops free from its slot on the door. “FUCK!”

Yet I force myself to calm down. The door had done this to me several times in the past and I knew what to do about it. Slot the knob back in, then turn the lock slowly looking for that sweet spot before the pin pops back the wrong way. Breathing deeply, I push the knob into place and grasp the lock with my other hand.

In doing so I let go of Kim.

My heart skips a beat when I feel her leave, running back to the back of the shop.

“Kim wait!” I yell.

“I’ll just grab my necklace!”

“Dammit Kim!” I glance back just in time to see her slip behind the counter and through to the back corridor. It’s been only a few seconds, yet smoke has already begun to saturate the ceiling. My nostrils and lungs sting.

She couldn’t be any more reckless if she tried, heading back into that room, choked in heat and smoke. I’m not prepared, not obligated in any way to go after her, gambling my life for what? A necklace? I was taught better than to risk my life stupidly trying to play hero. There’s more I can do out of the shop, call 911, flag down the fire truck, explain the situation and the layout of the shop so they can head for the break room right away.

Where Kim might be, my friend, luckily still alive, luckily, as long as the building doesn’t collapse, or the flames don’t spread very far, and she knows to keep her head down to avoid the smoke. And I might see her bashful, apologetic smile as I yell at her for acting so impulsively, and not knowing not to pour water into a grease fire, and making me worry all the time.

“Goddamit Kim!”

If she can run back for a necklace, I hardly have any excuse to leave my friend behind.

So I run after her, scrambling around the corner, clumsily crashing my shoulder on the doorway as I dive into the back corridor, stumbling the last several steps to the break room door.

Thick, black smoke rapidly spills forth through the door. My eyes and lungs burn, I can barely see.

“Kim!” I cry out.

She coughs somewhere inside over the now-roaring flame, sound a little below me, closer to the floor. I can’t tell the full extent of the fire through the smoke, but I notice orange glows all over the direction where the kitchenette counter used to be. “H-here,” she struggles to respond. “I-I got it but I can’t see!”

I fall on my knees and set my palms on the ground. The air below is a bit easier on my lungs, but I’m already feeling short of breath. “This way! Kahaa!!” I yell between bouts of coughing, reaching my arm past the break room doorway and feeling around for Kim until my fingers feel her shirt and clutch it tightly.

We crawl back towards the store front in almost complete darkness, yet we have little trouble navigating the familiar layout of the small café even while mostly blind. We pass through the short back corridor, the small bump on the floor where it connects to the back of the counter, and find the cluttered shelves behind it. We’ll surely reach the front door before long.

But I can feel the shop heating up alarmingly quickly, not to mention the creaking all around us as the cheap materials they used to build the place catch fire or bend from the heat. There’s a crash somewhere behind us, and I suspect a part of the structure has collapsed. Kim tries to scream, but it chokes in her throat.

“I-I can’t do it…” she gasps, her voice faint. Her shirt slips from my grasp. “I-I’m scared. I want to go home.”

“We’re almost out!” I yell back between coughs, finding her curled up very close behind me, gasping for breath. Has she inhaled too much smoke? “Don’t give up now! Kahah!” Truth be told, I’m not doing that well either; my head feels a bit light.

That’s when I notice a light, something glowing close to us, square and flat. I reach for it, thinking it’s my phone that I clumsily dropped when I first panicked at the scent of smoke. I could call 911, tell whoever is coming where we are so they could come for us.

Yet my fingers grasp the coarse texture of papyrus, not a phone. On closer inspection, it’s the collector’s item, the scroll Kim was examining before the fire started. I should have thrown it aside, useless in this situation, yet couldn’t help but be fascinated by how it glowed in the midst of the smoke.

The final line of the verse written on it jumps at me, brighter than the rest, gleaming insistently.

“BE MY GUEST, COME AND WITNESS”

Clutching Kim as hard as I can, mind swirling with asphyxiating delusions, I touch the words and whisper, “Sure.”

The world fades from my view as I suddenly feel weightless, but it’s too late to pay attention to any of it, and I fall unconscious without another thought.