KIRO’S STORY / CHAPTER 32 OF 36
Shift
by hasira · about 10 min read
Kiro woke up before his alarm.
He stared at the ceiling.
5:48 AM.
His alarm was set for seven.
“...Fuck.”
He closed his eyes again.
Nothing.
His brain had apparently decided this was enough sleep.
Kiro rolled onto his side.
Then his other side.
Pulled the blanket higher.
Lower.
Checked the time.
5:51 AM.
“Seriously?”
He looked toward you.
You weren't doing anything.
“Don't.”
Kiro got out of bed.
His first shift back started at 9:00 AM.
Kiro was dressed by 7:15 AM.
He stood in front of the hallway mirror.
Sheep sweater.
Jeans.
Hair fixed.
Then fixed again.
Sleeves sitting properly.
He pulled one down slightly.
Stopped.
Pulled it back.
“...Normal.”
The fox in the mirror looked tired.
But not horrible.
Not like a month ago.
Kiro knew that.
His stomach didn't.
He grabbed his keys.
Forgot his phone.
Went back.
Grabbed his phone.
Forgot his wallet.
Went back again.
By the third time he reached the door, he stood there with one paw on the handle.
The house was quiet behind him.
The record shop was waiting somewhere ahead.
Same counter.
Same shelves.
Same bell above the door.
Same owner.
Same customers.
Nothing had changed.
That was somehow terrifying.
What if you have?
Kiro's paw tightened around the handle.
“What if I haven't?”
Silence.
He opened the door.
Cold air hit his face.
“Good talk.”
Kiro arrived at 8:12 AM.
He stared through the dark shop window.
CLOSED.
Obviously.
He had forty-eight minutes.
“...Great.”
He could go get coffee.
Walk around.
Sit somewhere.
Act like a normal person who hadn't shown up almost an hour early because staying home felt worse.
Instead, Kiro unlocked the door.
The little bell rang.
The sound hit him harder than expected.
He stopped inside.
Dust.
Cardboard.
Old paper.
Coffee.
The faint smell of wood from the shelves.
Exactly the same.
Kiro closed the door carefully behind him.
The shop was dark except for gray morning light coming through the front window.
He didn't turn the lights on yet.
For a while, he just stood there.
Something in his chest loosened.
Then tightened again.
He walked behind the counter.
His paw touched the edge.
Familiar scratches beneath his fingers.
The register.
The turntable.
A stack of records somebody had left in the wrong place.
Kiro frowned.
“Who the fuck did this?”
He immediately started fixing them.
By 8:20 AM, he'd recognized one section.
By 8:30 AM, he'd cleaned the counter.
At 8:37 AM, he was wiping dust from something that had absolutely already been clean.
The back door opened.
Kiro froze.
The owner walked out carrying a mug.
He stopped.
Looked at Kiro.
Then at the clock.
Then back at Kiro.
“You're early.”
Kiro kept holding the cloth.
“Little.”
“Forty minutes.”
“Traffic was good.”
“You walk here.”
Kiro stared at him.
The owner took a drink.
“Good traffic?”
Kiro slowly put the cloth down.
“...Yeah.”
The owner nodded.
“Right.”
Kiro looked toward the shelves.
For some reason he suddenly felt like he had been caught doing something wrong.
“I can go outside until nine.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“No.”
“Then don't.”
Kiro stayed where he was.
The owner walked behind the counter.
Opened a drawer.
Looked inside.
Closed it again.
Normal.
No speech.
No dramatic welcome back.
Kiro had expected one.
He hadn't realized that until there wasn't one.
Finally the owner looked at him.
“You okay?”
There it was.
Kiro's stomach tightened.
“Yeah.”
Too fast.
The owner stared at him.
Kiro sighed.
“I'm here.”
“I noticed.”
“That's what you asked.”
“Not really.”
Kiro rubbed one thumb against his sleeve.
“I'm...”
He looked around.
“Better.”
The word felt strange.
Not good.
Not fixed.
Better.
The owner nodded.
“Good.”
Kiro waited.
Nothing else came.
No questions about what happened during the month.
No asking whether Kiro had seen somebody.
No careful voice.
No list of things he should or shouldn't do.
Kiro frowned slightly.
“That's it?”
The owner looked confused.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The owner understood anyway.
“I'm not your mother, Kiro.”
“Thank fuck.”
“I'm also not stupid.”
Kiro glanced back.
“If you start looking like you're dying behind my counter again, I'm sending you home.”
Kiro's ears lowered.
“I didn't look like I was dying.”
“You fell asleep standing up.”
“Once.”
“Twice.”
Kiro frowned.
“Second time doesn't count.”
“You were holding a record.”
“I didn't drop it.”
“Very impressive.”
Kiro almost smiled.
The owner took another drink.
“You're not here to prove anything.”
Kiro's smile disappeared.
His eyes went toward the counter.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Kiro didn't answer.
The owner sighed.
“Just work.”
Kiro looked at him.
“That's the plan.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“And stop cleaning things that are already clean.”
Kiro looked down at the cloth.
“...Fuck off.”
The owner walked toward the back room.
“Welcome back.”
Kiro stood there.
The words landed quietly.
No music.
No big moment.
Just that.
Welcome back.
Kiro looked toward you.
His ears lowered.
“Don't.”
Then he turned the lights on.
At nine, Kiro flipped the sign.
OPEN.
Nothing happened.
He stood behind the counter.
Waited.
9:03 AM.
Nothing.
9:07 AM.
Nothing.
Kiro started wondering if the universe had arranged for nobody to enter specifically because it knew today mattered.
At 9:11 AM, the bell rang.
Kiro's entire body went stiff.
A man walked in.
Tourist.
Definitely.
Camera hanging from his neck.
Map folded badly inside one jacket pocket.
The man smiled.
“Morning.”
Kiro opened his mouth.
For half a second, nothing came out.
His heart hit once.
Hard.
The man had already turned toward the records.
He hadn't noticed.
Kiro swallowed.
“Morning.”
There.
Normal.
The man wandered through the shop.
Kiro watched him.
Too much.
Stop staring.
Kiro looked down at the counter.
Then immediately back up because what if the customer needed something?
The man pulled one record out.
Looked at it.
Put it back in the wrong section.
Kiro's eye twitched.
Not yet.
Wait.
The customer picked up another.
Then approached the counter.
“I'm looking for something older. Local maybe.”
Kiro stared.
His brain emptied.
Local.
Older.
Music.
Record.
This was literally his job.
The customer waited.
Kiro's paw moved toward his sleeve.
Then stopped.
“How old?”
The man shrugged.
“Seventies? Eighties?”
“What do you actually listen to?”
“Mostly rock.”
“That's not an answer.”
The man blinked.
Kiro froze.
Fuck.
Then the customer laughed.
“Fair.”
Something clicked.
Kiro leaned slightly against the counter.
“Heavy?”
“Sometimes.”
“Punk?”
“Not really.”
“Post-punk?”
The man thought.
“Yeah.”
Kiro nodded.
“Okay.”
He walked out from behind the counter.
Three shelves.
Lower crate.
Second section.
His paw went directly to the right place without thinking.
He pulled one record out.
Then another.
“Try these.”
The man took them.
Looked at the covers.
“This one good?”
Kiro looked.
Made a face.
“No.”
The man laughed again.
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
“Because you might like it.”
“But you don't?”
“I have standards.”
From somewhere in the back room:
“HE WORKS HERE, BY THE WAY.”
Kiro turned his head.
“SHUT UP.”
The customer laughed.
Actually laughed.
Kiro looked back at him.
For the first time that morning, his shoulders dropped.
Just a little.
Five minutes later, the man bought both records.
Including the one Kiro insulted.
The bell rang when he left.
Kiro watched the door close.
Then looked down at the money in the register.
Nothing had happened.
No shaking.
No panic.
No forgetting where he was.
He'd just been annoying to a customer.
Professionally.
Kiro smiled.
Small.
The owner appeared behind him.
“You done having an emotional moment with the register?”
Kiro's smile vanished.
“I hate you.”
“Good sale.”
“Thanks.”
The owner disappeared again.
Kiro looked at the door.
Another person entered.
This time, he didn't freeze.
“Morning.”
By noon, his feet hurt.
That felt amazing.
Not emotionally.
His feet genuinely fucking hurt.
But it was normal pain.
Standing too long.
Walking between shelves.
Crouching beside crates.
Reaching too high because nobody had put the ladder back where it belonged.
Normal.
Kiro ate lunch behind the counter.
Sandwich.
Water.
No hot chocolate because the owner had apparently decided that wasn't lunch.
Kiro disagreed.
Strongly.
The bell rang.
Kiro swallowed too quickly.
Coughed.
“One second.”
He grabbed the water.
Took a drink.
Looked up.
Susie stood near the entrance.
Camera bag over one shoulder.
Kiro stopped.
She smiled.
“Professional.”
Kiro wiped his mouth.
“What are you doing here?”
“Shopping.”
“You don't shop here.”
“I literally have.”
“While it was closed.”
“Still counts.”
Kiro looked toward the back room.
Then back at her.
Something felt strange about Susie being here now.
Last time, the shop had been empty.
Private.
Almost not real.
Just him showing her something he liked.
Now the lights were on.
The OPEN sign was facing outward.
Someone else was browsing near the back.
The register had money in it.
He was working.
Susie looked around.
“You look different.”
Kiro immediately looked down at himself.
“What?”
She laughed.
“Not your clothes.”
“Then what?”
“I don't know.”
She watched him for another second.
“Like you belong behind there.”
Kiro went quiet.
His paw rested on the counter.
Familiar scratches beneath his fingers.
“Yeah.”
The answer came before he could ruin it.
Susie smiled slightly.
She walked toward one of the crates.
Kiro watched her.
“What are you actually looking for?”
“I told you. Shopping.”
“That's suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't know what you want.”
“That's why I'm looking.”
Kiro stared.
Susie pulled something out.
Kiro's expression immediately changed.
“No.”
She looked at the cover.
“You don't even see what it is.”
“I saw enough.”
“You are impossible.”
“Put it back.”
Susie looked at him.
Then she deliberately held it against her chest.
“I'm buying it.”
Kiro's ears lifted.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I refuse.”
“You can't refuse.”
“I work here.”
“Exactly. Sell me the record.”
“It's shit.”
Susie walked toward the counter.
Kiro shook his head.
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
She placed it down.
Kiro stared at it.
Then at her.
Then at the record again.
“That's offensive.”
“How much?”
“Too much.”
“Kiro.”
He checked the sticker.
Told her.
Susie paid.
Kiro took the money with visible disgust.
“This is the worst thing I've done today.”
“I thought coming back to work would be harder.”
Kiro stopped.
Susie did too.
The sentence had come out casually.
Not cruel.
Still, it touched something.
Kiro looked down at the record.
“Yeah.”
Susie's expression changed slightly.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
He rubbed the side of his thumb against the counter.
“It's fine.”
A pause.
Then he looked at her.
“It was.”
“Was?”
“This morning.”
Kiro glanced around the shop.
At the shelves.
The register.
Someone flipping through records near the window.
The owner moving around somewhere behind them.
“It felt like...”
He stopped.
Susie waited.
Kiro tried again.
“Like I was coming back to the place where I stopped working properly.”
His eyes stayed on the counter.
“And everyone was going to notice.”
“Did they?”
Kiro looked toward the customer by the window.
“No.”
“Owner?”
“He called me dramatic.”
“Sounds healthy.”
“He also told me to stop cleaning clean things.”
Susie smiled.
Kiro looked at her.
“I sold something.”
“At a shop?”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“I didn't fuck it up.”
Susie's smile softened.
Kiro immediately noticed.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“That face.”
“What face?”
“The nice one.”
She stared at him.
“You want me to look disgusted?”
“Maybe.”
Susie made a terrible expression.
Kiro started laughing.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Better?”
She picked up her bag.
The awful record went inside.
Kiro watched her.
“You seriously bought that.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Susie shrugged.
“You hate it.”
“That's not a reason.”
“It made you look normal.”
Kiro stopped.
Susie seemed to realize she'd said it strangely.
“I mean...”
“No.”
Kiro looked toward the shelves.
Then back at her.
“I know.”
A small silence.
Susie adjusted the strap over her shoulder.
“I’ll let you work.”
Kiro nodded.
“Okay.”
She started toward the door.
Something inside him pulled.
Not panic.
Just the old instinct.
Ask when you'll see her.
Make sure.
Don't let the space stay empty.
Kiro opened his mouth.
Stopped.
Susie reached the door.
Then turned.
“Tomorrow?”
Kiro blinked.
“What?”
“You busy?”
His shoulder relaxed.
“No.”
“Good.”
She opened the door.
The bell rang.
“See you tomorrow.”
Kiro smiled.
“Yeah.”
She left.
Kiro watched her pass the window.
Then disappear.
His chest stayed quiet.
Mostly.
He looked down at the counter.
Another customer approached carrying three records.
Kiro immediately recognized one.
His face twisted.
“No.”
The customer stopped.
“What?”
Kiro pointed at the record.
“That one.”
The customer looked down.
“What's wrong with it?”
Kiro stepped out from behind the counter.
“Come here.”
He walked toward the shelves.
The customer followed.
Kiro reached into another section and pulled something better.
He held it out.
“Take this instead.”
The customer looked at the cover.
“Why?”
Kiro smiled slightly.
“Trust me.”
Behind him, the bell above the door rang again.