KIRO’S STORY / CHAPTER 34 OF 36
Normal
by hasira · about 9 min read
At 1:54 PM, Kiro was ready.
At 1:55 PM, he checked the window.
Nothing.
At 1:57 PM, he checked again.
Still nothing.
At 1:58 PM, he looked at his phone.
No message.
Kiro frowned.
“She's late.”
The clock changed.
1:59 PM.
“...Almost.”
He looked toward you.
“No.”
At exactly 2:00 PM, his phone vibrated.
outside
Kiro started.
Then immediately looked through the window.
The Ranger was parked near the fence.
Susie sat behind the wheel.
Kiro grabbed his jacket.
Stopped.
Looked at himself in the hallway mirror.
Sweater.
Jeans.
Hair fine.
He adjusted one ear.
Stopped.
“Why?”
He left.
Susie looked over when he climbed in.
“Hi.”
“You're suspiciously on time.”
“So are you.”
“I was ready six minutes ago.”
Susie stared.
Kiro froze.
“...That wasn't important.”
“Very normal.”
“Shut up.”
He closed the door.
Susie started driving.
Kiro looked out the window.
Then at her.
Then ahead.
A few minutes passed.
“So.”
Susie glanced at him.
“So?”
“Where are we going?”
She looked confused.
“You came without asking?”
“You said two.”
“And?”
“And I assumed there was a plan.”
“There is.”
Kiro waited.
Susie kept driving.
“What plan?”
“Shopping.”
Silence.
Kiro slowly turned toward her.
“Shopping.”
“Yeah.”
“For what?”
“Food.”
Another silence.
Susie looked at him again.
“What?”
Kiro stared.
“You invited me grocery shopping.”
“Apparently.”
“That's it?”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don't know.”
That was technically true.
Maybe coffee.
Maybe the forest.
Maybe somewhere with records.
Something.
Not fucking groceries.
Susie smiled slightly.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I'm not.”
“You absolutely do.”
Kiro folded his arms.
“I just didn't know I was being recruited for manual labor.”
“It's groceries.”
“There could be heavy things.”
“Terrifying.”
Kiro looked away.
Then quietly:
“Is this for your dad?”
“Mostly.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“Nothing.”
Susie watched him for half a second.
Then returned her eyes to the road.
Kiro's eyes moved slightly.
He had no idea why he suddenly felt better.
The supermarket was busy.
Not horrible.
Just enough people that Kiro noticed all of them.
Shopping carts.
Children.
Someone arguing about the coupons.
Music coming quietly from the ceiling.
A machine near the entrance making an irritating beeping sound.
Susie grabbed the cart.
Kiro immediately grabbed the other side.
She looked at his paw.
“What?”
“I can push.”
“I already have it.”
“You're shorter.”
Susie stared.
Kiro smiled.
“Give me the cart.”
“No.”
They stood there holding opposite sides.
An older woman walked around them.
She looked annoyed.
Susie let go.
“Fine.”
Kiro pushed the cart forward.
“Thank you.”
“Power trip.”
“Absolutely.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
Kiro looked at it.
“You have a list?”
“My dad has a list.”
Kiro held out his paw.
Susie gave it to him.
Milk.
Bread.
Eggs.
Coffee.
Vegetables.
Detergent.
Toilet paper.
A few other things.
Kiro looked down.
Then back at her.
“This is incredibly boring.”
“I know.”
“Why am I here?”
Susie shrugged.
“Wanted company.”
Kiro stopped pushing.
Susie walked another step before noticing.
She turned.
“What?”
Kiro stared at her.
That warm stupid feeling moved through his chest.
Nothing dramatic.
Still annoying.
“You could've said that.”
“I just did.”
“Yeah, after making me come here.”
“You still came.”
Kiro looked away.
“Unfortunately.”
Susie smiled.
“Come on.”
He followed.
They argued about bread first.
Kiro picked one up.
Susie looked at it.
“No.”
“What?”
“Wrong one.”
“It's bread.”
“My dad wants the other one.”
“That one looks depressing.”
“It's whole wheat.”
“Exactly.”
Susie took Kiro's choice from the cart.
Put it back.
Kiro immediately returned it.
Susie stared.
“Kiro.”
“What?”
“You're not eating it.”
“Doesn't matter.”
She removed it again.
Kiro grabbed another loaf.
Susie caught his wrist before he could put it in.
They stared at each other.
A man walked past.
Looked at them.
Kept walking.
Susie lowered her voice.
“Stop fighting the bread.”
“I'm trying to help.”
“You're actively making this harder.”
Kiro looked offended.
She let his wrist go.
He watched her put the correct bread into the cart.
“Fine.”
A few seconds later he quietly added his own loaf.
Susie noticed.
“Seriously?”
“Mine.”
“You have bread home.”
“You don't know that.”
“I was there two days ago.”
Kiro thought.
“...Fair.”
He removed it.
Cereal was worse.
Susie picked up a plain box.
Kiro made a face.
“No.”
“It's not for you.”
“Nobody should eat that.”
“My dad likes it.”
“Your dad needs better standards.”
Susie dropped it into the cart.
Kiro immediately picked up another box.
Bright colors.
Probably too much sugar.
Susie stared.
“You're twenty-five.”
“So are you.”
“That's for children.”
“It has vitamins.”
“It has a cartoon dinosaur.”
“He's a doctor.”
“He's wearing sunglasses.”
“Doctors can have style.”
Susie laughed.
Kiro put the box into the cart.
She removed it.
Kiro put it back.
Susie removed it again.
“You're paying for it.”
“Fine.”
“You're taking it home.”
“Fine.”
She stared at him.
Kiro held the cereal against his chest.
“...Fine.”
Susie smiled.
He hated that smile.
Mostly.
Halfway through the store, Kiro realized something.
Nobody cared they were there.
Nobody was looking.
Nobody knew about his scars.
Nobody knew about the panic attacks.
Nobody knew he'd once woken up with a gun close enough to scare Susie.
Nobody knew he'd spent the previous month away from work because functioning had become too difficult.
To everyone else, he was just some guy arguing with a badger about cereal.
Kiro looked around.
A child was crying near the frozen section.
Someone had dropped a jar somewhere farther away.
A worker was stacking cans.
Susie was reading two labels and making a face.
Nothing important was happening.
Kiro's chest felt strange.
Not bad.
Just...
Quiet.
Susie looked over.
“You disappeared.”
Kiro blinked.
“What?”
“You've been staring at peas for like twenty seconds.”
He looked down.
Frozen peas.
“Oh.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
The answer came normally.
Not too fast.
Susie noticed that too.
Kiro looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You're doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you're thinking something and refusing to say it.”
Susie put the peas into the cart.
“Maybe.”
“Asshole.”
She started walking again.
Kiro followed.
The cleaning aisle smelled wrong.
Too strong.
Artificial lemon.
Bleach.
Something floral.
Kiro slowed.
Susie didn't notice at first.
She was looking for detergent.
Kiro's eyes moved along the shelves.
Different bottles.
Bright labels.
Clean.
Fresh.
Family size.
The word hit strangely.
Family.
His chest tightened slightly.
Not much.
A kitchen appeared in the back of his head.
His father's hands.
His mother's voice.
Something broken near the sink.
The smell of cigarettes mixed with cleaning spray.
Someone trying to remove something from the floor.
Kiro blinked.
Shelves.
Detergent.
Susie.
Supermarket.
He rubbed his thumb against the side of his paw.
Not now.
Susie turned.
“Kiro?”
He looked at her.
“Yeah?”
“You stopped.”
He glanced toward the bottles.
Then shrugged.
“Smells like shit in here.”
Susie sniffed.
“Yeah.”
That was all.
No question.
No concerned look.
She picked up one bottle.
Read the label.
Kiro stayed beside her.
The kitchen in his head faded.
Not completely.
Enough.
Susie held up two bottles.
“Which one?”
Kiro stared.
“You trust me?”
“Apparently.”
He took both.
Read them.
One smelled like flowers.
One claimed to smell like "mountain rain."
Kiro frowned.
“What the fuck does mountain rain smell like?”
“Rain.”
“On a mountain?”
“Probably.”
“Marketing is evil.”
“Pick one.”
He handed her the blue bottle.
“This.”
“Why?”
“The other one looks annoying.”
“Excellent reasoning.”
“Thank you.”
She put it in the cart.
They left the aisle.
Kiro breathed easier.
He didn't mention why.
Susie didn't ask.
At the checkout, Kiro started unloading everything.
Susie joined him.
Milk.
Bread.
Eggs.
Coffee.
Vegetables.
Detergent.
Toilet paper.
Then Kiro's cereal.
Susie looked at it.
Then at him.
“No.”
“I'm buying it.”
“You put it back.”
Kiro stared.
Then looked into the cart.
Nothing.
His face changed.
“Where is it?”
Susie started laughing.
“You fucking...”
He looked behind them.
Too late.
The cereal was somewhere back in the store.
“Traitor.”
“You don't need dinosaur cereal.”
“He was a doctor.”
“He was not a doctor.”
“He had glasses.”
“Sunglasses.”
“Medical sunglasses.”
Susie was still laughing when they reached the register.
The cashier looked between them.
Then scanned the bread.
Kiro helped pack the bags.
Susie paid.
Normal.
Everything painfully normal.
Kiro liked it.
That was becoming a problem.
They carried the groceries back to the Ranger.
Kiro put most of them in the back.
Susie handed him one last bag.
“Careful.”
He looked inside.
Eggs.
“I know how eggs work.”
“You nearly killed a mailbox.”
“That has nothing to do with eggs.”
“Same driving skill.”
“I wasn't driving an egg.”
Susie closed the back.
Kiro stared at her.
“You know, I thought spending time with you would be more interesting.”
She leaned against the Ranger.
“You hated it?”
Kiro looked toward the supermarket.
Automatic doors opening.
Closing.
People pushing carts toward their cars.
Nothing beautiful.
No old railway tracks.
No storm.
No sunrise from a tower.
No music loud enough to feel inside his chest.
Just a parking lot.
He looked at her.
“No.”
Susie waited.
Kiro shoved his paws into his pockets.
“It was...”
He shrugged.
“Normal.”
Her expression shifted slightly.
“Bad normal?”
“No.”
He looked toward the cars again.
“Just normal.”
A pause.
“I think I liked it.”
Susie smiled.
Kiro immediately pointed.
“Don't.”
“I'm not doing anything.”
“Your face is.”
“What is my face doing?”
“Being annoying.”
She stepped closer.
Not much.
Just enough.
Kiro noticed.
Of course he did.
“You know we can do boring shit too.”
Kiro looked at her.
“What?”
“We don't have to go somewhere interesting every time.”
“Oh.”
“We can just...”
Susie gestured toward the supermarket.
“Buy fucking detergent.”
Kiro laughed.
“Very romantic.”
The word escaped before he could stop it.
Both of them went quiet.
Kiro's ears lowered.
“...Fuck.”
Susie's mouth moved slightly.
Kiro looked away.
“I didn't mean...”
He stopped.
Actually...
He wasn't sure what he meant.
Susie stepped closer again.
Their shoulders touched.
“Could be.”
Kiro looked at her.
“What?”
She shrugged.
“Romantic.”
His face warmed.
“Buying detergent.”
“Apparently.”
“That's fucking depressing.”
Susie laughed.
Kiro smiled.
Then looked toward the Ranger.
“We should probably take this to your dad before milk becomes cheese.”
“That's not how milk works.”
“You don't know.”
“I do.”
Kiro opened the passenger door.
Before getting in, he looked at her.
“Next time I'm picking what we do.”
Susie walked around toward the driver's side.
“Okay.”
“And we're not buying toilet paper.”
“Very specific.”
“I have standards.”
Susie got in.
Kiro closed his door.
The Ranger started.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kiro looked toward the grocery bags behind them.
Bread.
Milk.
Eggs.
Detergent.
Nothing important.
Nothing worth remembering.
Probably.
Kiro looked at Susie.
She caught him.
“What?”
He looked away.
“Nothing.”
For once, it actually was.