The convenience store wasn't far—just a fifteen-minute walk from school, if I wasn't dragging my feet. I usually was.
By the time I reached the sliding doors, the sun had softened, casting gold over the pavement.
The buzz of traffic and the low hum of a vending machine nearby filled the background like static.
I swiped my name tag off the wall hook and tied on my apron in one motion, already zoning out a little.
The store wasn't crowded. A few students grabbing snacks, an old man checking the magazine rack, a delivery guy who looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
Background characters in a world that mostly left me alone.
Which was fine. I liked it that way.
"Hey, Sora. You're on register today. I'll handle the restocks," said Ayaka Fujii, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail as she glanced at the stock list.
Ayaka had been working here longer than me—maybe a year or so. She was a second-year from another school, calm and reliable, and not the type to talk unless she had to. We had a mutual agreement to keep things light.
Hayato-san didn't have a shift today—he worked yesterday, and he usually alternated days with Ayaka.
The store felt noticeably quieter without his constant stream of commentary and spontaneous challenges. Honestly? I wasn't complaining.
I didn't hate working with them. But I definitely appreciated Ayaka's quiet more than Hayato's noise.
"Got it," I said, sliding behind the counter.
The next hour passed in a blur of receipts, canned coffee, and the dull beep of scanned barcodes.
One guy in a hoodie plopped two energy drinks on the counter and yawned so hard it made me yawn too. "Late night?" I asked.
"Cramming for exams," he said, rubbing his eyes. "It's like my brain's leaking out of my ears."
"Then you might need a third drink. Or a nap. Probably both."
He chuckled.
"Thanks for the emotional support."
A few minutes later, an older woman with a basket full of ready-to-eat meals came by.
She hesitated when I handed her the change.
"You look just like my granddaughter," she said with a smile. "Same sleepy eyes."
"I hope that's a compliment."
She laughed and patted my hand.
"It is. She's my favorite."
Moments like that slipped between the monotony.
Small things.
But they made the shift go by a little faster.
I made small talk when I had to—"Would you like a bag with that?" and "Your total is 874 yen, please."—but my mind was somewhere else entirely.
On my break, I sat out back near the dumpsters, the warm breeze barely making the air feel any less stale.
I pulled out my phone and unlocked it without thinking.
Chatterfield.
A new room had popped up.
[Night Shifts & Nonsense]
Fitting.
I joined quietly, sitting cross-legged on a concrete step, the chatter flowing past like river current.
[HazelnutDrift]: ever think about how weirdly quiet vending machines are at night?
[OrangeTheory]: not as weird as when they hum like they're breathing
[PaperMap]: I thought I was the only one who noticed that
[ChattyBreeze]: kinda comforting though. like they're trying their best
Someone sent a laughing emoji in response. Another replied:
[HazelnutDrift]: that's the nicest thing I've read all day
I smiled, just a little. Not a big smile.
Just the kind that sneaks in when you realize someone out there is actually reading what you say.
By the time my break ended, the sun had dipped behind the rooftops, and the breeze had picked up just enough to lift my hair.
I stood up, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and went back in.
As I stepped behind the counter again, Ayaka glanced over while restocking the gum rack near the register.
"You've been on your phone more lately," she said casually. "You never used to check it this much during breaks."
I shrugged, not really looking at her.
"Just passing time."
She didn't respond right away this time.
Just kept looking at me for a second longer than usual.
"Seriously though," she added, lowering her voice a bit. "Is it a new game? Or are you talking to someone?"
That caught me off guard.
"It's not really like that," I said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Then what is it like?"
I hesitated. "Just… somewhere to talk. With people I don't know."
Ayaka didn't say anything for a moment, then nodded slowly.
Then, with a slight smirk, she added, "So, mystery chat app girl by day, cashier by night. Should I be concerned?"
I gave her a look.
"You're not my mom."
She snorted.
"Good, because you'd be grounded already."
We both giggled at our interaction.
She turned back to the gum rack without another word, but I could tell she was still curious.
That was the thing about Ayaka—quiet didn't mean oblivious.
Still had two hours left on shift.
But now, I didn't mind so much.