When Kaivan stepped through the supermarket's sliding glass doors, a chill from the air conditioning brushed across his face. The air smelled faintly of freshly baked bread mingled with the sharp scent of cleaning supplies. His eyes scanned the aisles, sharp and deliberate. Then he spotted him—a boy in a blue denim jacket shifting restlessly.
Radit stood by the shelves, his expression clouded. His gaze darted between the products and the passing customers. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for men's toiletries. In a rushed, nervous motion, he slipped the items into his jacket pocket.
Kaivan, not far away, observed from the corner of his eye. His heart raced, but he kept his face calm. This was the moment. Drawing in a long breath, he stepped forward, each movement deliberate yet steady.
"Hey," Kaivan called, his tone warm yet firm. He stopped a couple of meters away, careful not to corner the boy. "Do you need help?"
Radit flinched. His hand froze inside his pocket. Whipping around, he stared at Kaivan, his face pale. Shock and suspicion glimmered in his eyes. "What's it to you?" he snapped harshly, trying to mask his guilt.
Kaivan didn't move closer. His calm eyes met Radit's, his head tilted slightly in a disarming gesture. "I just want to help," he said softly, his voice flowing like a soothing breeze.
Radit scoffed, though his body betrayed his unease. He glanced around nervously, checking that no one was listening. "Mind your own business, shorty."
The jab made Kaivan flinch, but he took a single step forward, showing he wouldn't back down. "You know," he said, "if you get caught right now, your problems will get a lot worse. There are cameras everywhere, and security is always watching."
Radit's expression shifted instantly. He turned his head sharply, scanning the corners of the store for cameras. Cold sweat trickled down his temple. "I... I don't have a choice."
Kaivan exhaled slowly and moved closer, now just a meter away. Lowering his voice to a near whisper, he said, "Listen, I know what it feels like to be trapped. But this isn't the way. If you need something, we'll find another way."
Radit went silent, his gaze falling to the floor. His trembling hand slowly left his pocket. With guilt heavy on his face, he pulled out the items and stared at them for a moment before placing them back on the shelf.
Kaivan gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's better," he said gently. "Now, let's step outside. We can talk there."
Radit's eyes wavered, filled with inner conflict. But at last, he gave a small nod. Side by side, the two of them walked toward the exit, slipping past the unaware customers.
Outside, the streetlights glowed dimly, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. They stopped near a small park bench beside the supermarket, when suddenly two security guards approached. Their heavy footsteps cut through the quiet as their stern eyes fell on Radit.
"May we check your pockets?" one asked, his tone firm but not hostile. Radit swallowed hard, shooting a quick glance at Kaivan before nodding. Slowly, he opened his jacket, showing his empty pockets. The other guard gave Kaivan's bag a cursory inspection but found nothing suspicious.
"Alright," one of the guards said before both of them continued their patrol. Silence returned, broken only by the gentle whisper of the night breeze.
Radit let out a long sigh of relief. "Man, good thing I listened to you," he muttered, his voice low, still tinged with suspicion. His eyes flicked toward Kaivan. "But why do you even care? We're not exactly close at school."
Kaivan smiled faintly, his gaze drifting toward the sky where the last hues of twilight gave way to night. "Maybe because I know what it feels like… needing help but not knowing who to ask."
Radit froze at those words. They sounded strange, yet undeniably sincere. Something stirred inside him, deeper than this chance encounter. For a moment, flashes of his own choices, his struggles, and the dead ends he faced flickered across his mind.
"But now what? How am I supposed to get extra money for school?" he asked suddenly, his voice heavy with worry. The fragile moment of relief gave way to a weight far more real—the uncertainty of his future.
Kaivan's hand tightened around the Omnicent Tome. A spark of insight lit up his expression, as if he alone could see a path laid before them. Turning calmly toward the book, he smiled with quiet conviction, as though guided by something unseen.
"You can throw a punch, right?" Kaivan asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp with intent. He looked at Radit, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Let's wait at the bus stop. We're going to stop a pickpocket."
Radit blinked, stunned. "This kid… how the hell does he know a pickpocket's coming?" he thought, disbelief crawling over him. Yet, despite the doubt gnawing at him, Radit followed. Something about Kaivan made him feel there was more at play than simple guesswork.
Not long after, a figure emerged from the shadows of the street—a man in a suit, carrying a briefcase, strolling calmly under the streetlights. He had no idea danger was lurking just a few steps away. Kaivan, seated quietly all this time, shifted. He gave Radit a subtle signal.
And just as the Tome had foretold, a pickpocket slipped from the shadows, moving with swift precision toward the unsuspecting man. As the thief's hand shot out to snatch the briefcase, Kaivan signaled sharply.
Radit moved. In one fluid motion, his fist drove into the pickpocket's face. The crack of impact rang out as the man crumpled to the ground. The briefcase tumbled free, skidding across the pavement. Without hesitation, Radit followed up—driving a kick into the thief's gut, then another punch that left him sprawled unconscious on the sidewalk.
The suited man, shaken by the sudden violence, hurried over. His eyes darted between the thief and his rescuers, wide with awe and gratitude. Bowing slightly, he spoke with heartfelt warmth. "Thank you… My name is Levan."
Under the glow of the streetlights, Kaivan stood calmly, while Radit—still flushed with adrenaline—couldn't help but feel a rush of pride at what they'd accomplished together.
As the calm of night settled once more, Levan felt compelled to express his gratitude in full. Looking at Radit, he said earnestly, "I would like to visit your home, to thank your family as well."
Radit, still reeling from the whirlwind of events, managed a small, humble smile. "Of course, sir. They'd be happy to meet you."
And so, bound by gratitude and an unspoken sense of fate, the three of them set off toward Radit's home. Beneath the watchful night sky, the Omnicent Tome remained firmly in Kaivan's grasp, its unseen pages guiding them into the next chapter of their intertwined destinies. New pages of life were being written—pages filled with unexpected turns and the quiet promise of change.