The days after meeting Goo passed more quickly than Kairos expected. It wasn't that it was bad, but there was something different in the air. A feeling that his carefully constructed routine was beginning to crack at the edges.
The piece of paper with Goo's number was still in his pocket, folded and mostly forgotten. Not that he wanted to call him, but he couldn't get rid of it either. It was strange. He didn't usually keep things without a purpose, but something told him that number might be useful... or troublesome. Probably both.
That morning at the bookstore started the same as always. Professor Han came in at ten o'clock, as he did every Tuesday, and spent almost an hour browsing the philosophy section. Kairos was organizing the new books that had arrived the day before when the professor approached with three volumes under his arm.
"Kairos, have you read any Nietzsche?" he asked as he placed the books on the counter.
"The basics," Kairos replied without looking up from the cash register. Enough to keep me from getting into arguments I can't win.
The professor gave a dry laugh. "Wise. Although at your age, you should be getting into more arguments, not fewer. It's part of growing up."
Kairos ringed up the books and wrapped them in the kraft paper they used for large purchases. "Growing up is overrated, professor. Older people just look more tired."
"Touché," the professor replied, taking his package. "Although, between you and me, I suspect you're already more tired than I am."
It wasn't the first time someone had said something like that to him. Kairos knew he had that look, that way of speaking that made people assume he'd lived more than his age suggested. It wasn't something he intentionally cultivated; it just happened.
After the professor left, the bookstore fell back into that comfortable silence he loved so much. Kairos allowed himself a moment to sit behind the counter and look out the window. The streets were moderately busy, students and office workers walking briskly, each absorbed in their own world.
For a moment, he thought about his mother. It didn't happen often, but when it did, the memory was vivid. The way she sang while cooking, how she always insisted he eat more vegetables, her laughter when he tried to tell a bad joke. So much time had passed that the memories didn't hurt as much anymore. They were just... a part of him.
The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He expected to see a regular customer, but instead, a man walked in who definitely didn't fit in with the bookstore's quiet atmosphere.
He was tall, muscular in a way that screamed "I spend more time at the gym than sleeping," and he wore dark sunglasses even though it was overcast outside. His black hair was slicked back, and he wore an expensive suit that looked uncomfortable on his bulk.
Kairos said nothing, simply watching as the man wandered through the bookstore with an odd mix of curiosity and boredom. Finally, the man approached the counter, removed his sunglasses, and Kairos could see his eyes. There was something predatory about them, as if he were constantly assessing threats.
"Do you sell martial arts books?" he asked in a deep voice.
"Sports section, back on the left," Kairos replied, pointing. "Most are basic manuals, though, nothing too technical."
The man climbed atop the counter and headed that way. Kairos followed him with his eyes, feeling the same sensation he'd had with Goo. This wasn't ordinary. There was something about the way he moved, the way his eyes scanned every corner of the bookstore, that screamed danger.
After a few minutes, the man returned without a single book.
"I didn't find anything interesting," he said, leaning against the counter. "Although, to be honest, I didn't come for the books." Kairos raised an eyebrow. "So?" —Goo told me about you.
Of course. Kairos sighed inwardly. He should have known. Nothing good could come from meeting Goo Kim.
"I don't know what he told you, but he probably exaggerated." The guy sounded slightly, but it wasn't a friendly smile. It was the smile of someone who knew something you didn't.
"Goo doesn't exaggerate when it comes to fights. He said you grabbed his wrist hard enough to almost break it, and he didn't even seem to be trying." Kairos shrugged. "It was instinct. He was trying to stab me with a pen."
"Sure, instinct," the guy repeated, his smile widening. "The problem is, Goo isn't someone just anyone can stop 'on instinct.' It makes me wonder who you really are."
"Just someone who works at a bookstore," Kairos replied nonchalantly. "I don't know what you expect to find here." The man straightened up, putting his sunglasses in his jacket pocket.
"I'm not looking for trouble." Just... curiosity. Goo has that effect; he finds interesting people and can't help but talk about them. I just wanted to see for myself.
"So?" Kairos asked, crossing his arms. "Has your curiosity been satisfied?" The guy looked at him silently for a moment, as if reading something in his expression that Kairos couldn't see.
"For now," he said finally. "Although something tells me we'll meet again." Without another word, he turned and left the bookstore. Kairos stood there, staring at the closed door, feeling like he'd just crossed some kind of invisible line. First Goo, now this guy. What the hell was going on?
He pulled out his phone and looked at the number Goo had given him. Maybe it was time to use it, if only to ask him what the hell had just happened.
But before he could decide, the door opened again. This time it was just a college student looking for a textbook. Kairos put his phone away and went back to work, though his mind was still racing with the encounter.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. By the time he closed the bookstore and stepped outside, the sky was already darkening. Kairos walked toward his usual bus stop, but something stopped him.
Someone was standing on the corner, watching him. He couldn't see their face from that distance, but the posture was familiar. Too familiar.
Kairos sighed, resigned. His life was definitely starting to get complicated in ways he hadn't asked for.
For a moment, he decided to simply ignore it and take the bus, but something inside him told him that would only delay the inevitable. So, instead, he started walking toward the figure on the corner.
If his life was going to become chaotic, he would at least face it head-on. It was the only thing he knew how to do.