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For Cashier, it’s always been like this.
He wakes up thirty minutes before the shift, rushing to make himself look somewhat presentable (at the very least), before driving (despite the fact that he could walk) to the store. From 3 to 8 AM, he works. In other words, standing at the counter and waiting for someone. Occasionally he dusts off some areas or picks up trash left on the ground. Truly revolutionary. It’s a lot of waiting. Waiting, waiting, for nothing. A familiar face or two, but eventually everything grows monotonous.
One day, a kid wearing a red cap walks in. He’s never seen them around, he realizes. What’s a kid doing here at four in the morning, anyway?
Ignoring his thoughts spilling all over the place, he watches as the kid takes a singular egg and a cup of orange juice, before slapping some dollar bills on the counter. In a daze, Cashier takes them, adding a customary “Thanks”. They leave just as quickly as they came. He wonders what they’re in such a rush for.
He’s tired of the familiarity of the town. It’s selfish of him, but he hopes for another encounter just like this. His fantasies alone are enough to let him stay awake for the rest of the shift.
Outside, flowers are blooming.
Cashier hums to the lo-fi music continually beating throughout the store. He looks out the window. Seems like the moon is out. He can only stand and watch from such an obscure angle, but whatever, at least there was something to note about today’s (or tonight’s?) shift.
The bell rings. Wow, an actual customer. He tries to make himself look like he actually cares about his job, before turning his eyes to the door.
Oh—a kid. Out for a late night snack he supposes, not that he really cares why they’re here.
Yet somehow, he feels rejuvenated seeing them.
Regardless, he takes the money from them, as they leave with a small milk carton. He notices a word printed on their shirt before they take their leave, but they exit too quickly for him to see. Oh come on, clearly they should’ve exited the store in slow motion to satiate his curiosity.
They’ll come back in a few days, he figures. Then he’ll solve this great mystery.
One day, Cashier notices someone standing right outside the store. Whatever their business is, it has nothing to do with the store. For hours, they just…stand there. Aren’t their legs tired at the very least? he thinks.
A kid slips through the door. “Hold on,” he says. They pause in their tracks as he glances at the window again, “have you seen that person standing outside?”
They turn, staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time, before nodding. “Y’know what they’re doing out there?”
He’s answered with a shrug. They hand him a few dollars, leaving with a can of soda.
The real enigma is the person standing outside the store, gazing past the road leading away from town. Cashier scoffs. He’s almost envious.
At least they had the pleasure of looking down the path.
The door opens, complemented with the tinkling of a bell. Ah, a kid. Probably here for a late night snack.
Cashier gets this weird tingle, a feeling akin to déjà vu. Had this already happened before? But that was impossible, he was confident he’d never met the kid before. This is what he gets for taking a shift so early in the morning. They open the fridge full of soda, a can of soda in one hand and a fistful of dollars in the other. Cashier doesn’t stop to question why they have so much money.
It should only be reasonable then that after taking their money, Cashier assumes that’s all he’ll have done for the rest of the day. Nothing ever happens— he’s used to it by now.
Surprise, surprise, the kid comes back. More money down the drain. But maybe they just needed an extra something.
They come back for a third time.
A fourth. The fridge is empty.
This has to be illegal or I’m just going crazy…
“What do you need this much soda for?!” he exclaims. He is being driven insane by a literal child.
The kid stares back at him like he’s the insane one. This is one mentality he will never truly understand. He puts a hand to his face, shaking his head. After taking deep breaths, he reluctantly hands back the can of soda to them.
A feeling of déjà vu starts closing in on him. He mouths the words he wants to say to himself— it’d be a bit weird to say it immediately.
The kid pulls the door open. “Wait,” he calls, “Do I know you?”
One foot is outside and the other is inside. They stop, turning to look at him. Before he can read their expression though, they pull down their cap and cross the boundary.
Cashier has this gut feeling. He’d say he’s logical and rational, but occasionally, it doesn’t hurt to go with instinct, right?
Today, his gut feeling is haunting him. Something is telling him that there will be a disaster. He can’t help but trust it, despite his brain scolding him for his lack of a healthy sleep schedule, and oh my god—this is just sleep-deprivation-induced-paranoia.
Nothing is happening. Something is going to happen. Can his brain just shut up and—?
A burst of light fills the town and…what the fuck? Did the moon just turn into a Bloxy Cola or is he delirious?
The door swings open and a kid rushes in, clearly more awake than he is. “Hi,” he says, “So…I see we have a problem here.”
The kid doesn’t respond. Oh well, it wasn’t a time for greetings. He turns to the door that’s always been next to him. That’s one way out. He couldn’t think of anything better. “Here goes nothing…” he mutters under his breath.
They start fidgeting, watching as the soda begins to creep through the…undamaged store. Ah yes, soda could just rise through the non-existent cracks of the floor. He was most definitely dreaming. “Give me a sec,” he tells them, “Opening this door shouldn’t take longer than fifteen seconds.”
They make their way to the counter, watching him meticulously twist gears and solve codes. Cashier wonders why he needs to do so much just to open a freezer. The soda is up to his knees now, for the kid, it’s almost at their waist.
He smacks the door with a fist and it sighs in return. Good enough. He turns to the kid, “Come on, get in.”
He makes sure to lock the door behind him.
Out of all the shifts he’s worked before, this is Cashier’s first time in the freezer. When he applied for the job, no one told him how complicated opening the freezer was going to be. Not that he would need to go in…but still. Having nothing much else to do, he sits down on the conveniently placed carpet on the side. Wait…carpet?
All he knows is that the last thing he expected on the job today was—for one—a flood made out of soda to happen and two, take more than a second to open the freezer. He didn’t even dress for the occasion (not that he’s a prophet, either).
The kid looks around the freezer, before coming to sit down next to him. They bring their knees to their chest and stare at the ground. Cashier doesn’t know what to do, nor what to say. But somehow, he knows. “You…had something to do with this, huh?”
He doesn’t need to look at the kid to know that their answer is yes. Turning his head to face them, he’s about to say “I’ve never seen you around” when a familiar feeling runs through him. He slaps himself to reality—this is not the time for even more delusion. The kid innocently blinks at him.
Oookayy…change of subject then.
“What’s your name?”
They bring their knees down and he sees a word imprinted on their sweater. “Player”, it reads. It felt weird to refer to someone based on their clothing, but he can’t keep calling them “kid”.
“Well, uh, not the most fortunate time for us to be meeting, Player, but I’m Cashier.”
They nod. They’re still looking at the ground. For just a few seconds, they turn their gaze to him, their eyes pleading that they really didn’t mean it.
“I know,“ Cashier nods. “I know…”
As they shakily breathe in and out, Cashier feels the world shake alongside them.
But that’s stupid. He knows that the world never stops for anyone.
He’s always wanted to yell at the world, or whatever higher entity watching him right now: where were you when I was struggling through every day and night? Were you watching over me in pity, or laughing at my stupidity?
The truth is: the world leaves you behind when you grow up. Player is embraced, loved, but what about him? Why can’t it just wait for someone like me?
He manages to swallow down his frustration. He might’ve started shooting death stares, after all.
“So. Uh…the weather today, huh?”
Ten: Cashier yawns.
Nine: He rapidly blinks, before his vision clears.
Eight: He stretches his limbs.
Seven: He exhales.
Six: It’s awfully warm tonight.
Five: Something is wrong.
Four: He glances at the timer.
Three: He gets up.
Two: A shrill ring.
One.
The house adjacent to the store bursts aflame. When he bursts outside, he sees a kid standing in the middle of the road, watching, watching the flames tear apart the house. That house belongs to the kid, doesn’t it? How did they even…?
They twitch, looking to and fro, hands shaking, before their eyes land on Cashier. They’re glued to the spot, but everything in their eyes is a simple plea, a “I didn’t mean to do this” and “Please, help me”.
Cashier’s foot moves forward. He’s almost tempted to go back.
A child bearing witness to their wings melting.
A cashier who didn’t mean to enter the labyrinth.
Not Icarus or Daedalus, no. But they continue to approach the sun, don’t they?
Cashier’s hardly worries about someone stealing from the store. It’s too run-down for any thief to care. Yes, it’s the least of his concerns, quite frankly. What was he told to do if someone ever stole from the place, though?
“Apprehend the thief, using any means possible.”
He’s not a fighter. He’s quite aware that he is literally screwed if the thief is a professional fighter. No, seriously. One punch and he’s down for the count.
The bell rings. It’s a kid. I swear, they just looked at me funny. This shift is definitely driving me insane.
As Cashier plays boxing with his mind, they walk towards the shelves, take a carton of milk, and leave. Oh well. I mean, at least someone had come, right?
Wait. No. That’s not right.
Before he knows it, he’s standing outside the door, the kid at his mercy. “If you don’t mind stealing, then I might as well steal your life.”
No, no, no, no. Stop. What am I doing? To a kid too? And I swear, I’m not crazy…
“…I know you.”
His fist moves before he can.
Cashier is awake on the shift. That’s wrong. He is never fully awake when he comes to work. But here he is: back straight, eyes wide open, hands on the counter, waiting, waiting.
Someone is supposed to be here. Someone is supposed to be here.
His break comes before he knows it. When he goes outside, not even a gust of wind says hi. The town is oddly silent. But…it’s always silent.
So why does he feel so unnerved? This is how it’s always been. Nothing is wrong. It’s the same, boring old town he’s known his whole life.
But someone is supposed to be here.
An orange-brown leaf falls. It’s chilly out here, but it’s better than being in the store, he reasons. He can see his breath form into puffs like smoke.
He feels like he’s walked into a house after the party. It’s colored with liveliness, but someone is supposed to be here.
And then, someone came.
The person who had been standing outside the store for so long turned to look at Cashier.
Not even a “hello”, just—
The sky turned a fatal purple and everything came crashing down.
This is how his world ended.
Once upon a time, there was a world. A world that Cashier could never truly call his own, more like how animals inhabit their respective habitats. He too—remained existing in a delicate ecosystem.
I remember. He thinks, and his mind is the clearest it has been for a long time.
He remembers the many nights where Player had walked in, grabbed something (or didn’t) lingered (or not), before leaving. He remembers the countless hours passing by, which had always felt like a blur before. He feels the odd sense of familiarity whenever he sees Player because every night was the same night, like the one before this one, and the one after that, until…
But most of all, he remembers the world falling apart. The fact is: nothing is scarier than something. All of nothing. The endless void beneath him, the knowledge that if he somehow tripped or made a mistake, all of nothing is still burned into his mind. The reality that without so much as a scream or a shout, his death would go unnoticed.
Cashier has been nothing for a long time. But to see it stare right back at him, ironically lit something inside him. We all know that inevitably, something must come out of nothing. Everyone’s heard of the Big Bang Theory.
There is nothing, nothingness for a long time. We are all fooled into thinking nothing can ever happen.
But even the impossible can happen, Cashier learns. When the world was mended back together with a deity’s equivalent of bandages and alcohol, something is in the store. It has to be it, he argues, it must be his only hope. His saving grace.
So it can’t be selfish if it means saving his world. Because his very existence is at the will of a kid (a traitor, even after all this time). He can’t go back if it means losing everything he knows. This is the only way. This is the only way.
It has to be the only way.
The orb stings. Burns. At a different time, different circumstances, he might have died from the pain. The fact that he survived was a miracle, he is different, he tells himself. He is the deity now. They should cower. Because finally, finally, nothing has turned into something.
He sees the Player and a cube. How annoying. She couldn’t even fix the world correctly. With the blink of an eye, she is gone from his sight.
When the Player sees him, he can’t help but feel elation. Weren’t they so fortunate to bear witness to his newfound power? He can’t help the joy rising in his chest when they realize something is wrong. He can’t be just Cashier anymore—he has ascended to a higher level of awareness.
At once, flames light up. The Player will go out with not even so much as a scream, he decides. See how that feels. he curses, making his bitterness reality.
Player mouthes something. But nothing comes out.
Their eyes are watery. They back away—to no avail. Their mouth is open in a silent “o”, but nothing still prevails. It’s getting harder to breathe.
At first, it starts as a whisper. “Please.”
Their voice is hoarse. “Please…!”
Their volume increases. They are thin ice about to crack, but they are able to hold themselves together, barely. “Please!”
Cashier looks at them. For a second, he considers the small player, who he could obliterate so much if he chooses. In essence, that was what he was doing right now.
And that’s when he realizes none of it matters anymore.
So they scream,
“STOP!!”
The ground shakes. Tears stream from Player’s eyes. They can’t mask the sobs erupting from them anymore.
Cashier feels the power he held drain from him.
In that second, the world really stops.
What do you do when there is never enough time?
Time for what?
The truth is, time is what leads to the world’s end for Player, Cashier, and the others who lived in their world.
It is not Player’s fault.
Time is the reason the world cracks from inside, slowly but surely. Time is what gave Cashier so much power and time is what took the world so long to save itself.
But it’s not his fault, either.
So then, why would you still want time?
The thing is: time is what leads to Cashier and Player to meet. For Cashier and Player to meet even more people. Time is what leads Player on so many adventures. Time is what lets the world heal. Time is what allows both of them to heal.
Cashier always wanted more time for himself. Player always wanted more time with the world. In the end, time gives this understanding to themselves, and to each other.
On a rainy night, Player leaves the house. They hold up a red umbrella graciously lent to them by Dummy.
It feels so long since there was peace in the town.
It is quiet, but never silent.
For Player, it’s always been like this.
They wake up at 4 A.M., roused by the pang of hunger in their stomach. There’s always something new to be found in the town: a new acquaintance, a new spot, a new item—the town is never boring to them. Even if they go back to their bed with nothing, not even a snack, it is with a smile that they fall asleep with.
For this, it is why one day, they are able to return to the store. Not a ruined store or a store with an odd power inside it, but a regular convenience store.
The bell rings. Dummy waves to them. Player looks to the counter and Cashier looks back.
For a long while, it is silent.
They realize that they’ve never looked at each other this intently—ever. Before they know it, Player bursts out into laughter. Cashier follows suit. All Dummy can do is blink in confusion.
The store is warm and the cold dread that had stalked them outside seemed like a distant nightmare. Everything is okay. They can believe that the world is kind and loving and good.
Every night is the same night, they are fully aware of this. Time goes on and so does the world. But that’s okay. Cashier and Player have all the time in the world.
No matter if they are all the same.