Zak finished changing into his work uniform, the faded blue fabric a stark contrast to the dramatic pronouncements of Manifestor classes and cracked orbs that filled Professor Aris's study.
Here, in the cramped diner changing room, reality was a worn apron and the lingering scent of stale cooking oil. He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, not bothering to tame it. His usual detachment settled over him like a familiar cloak.
Just as he picked up his apron from the hook, a gentle, hesitant knock echoed on the changing room door.
"Excuse me, sir?" a soft voice called from the other side.
"It's Clara. Sir Michael said you'd meet me here?"
"Yes, I'm getting ready now," Zak replied, his voice flat, completely devoid of any urgency or warmth.
"I'll be out in just a moment, please." He slipped on his apron, tying the strings behind his back with practiced, mechanical movements, then pushed the door open.
Clara stood waiting, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. She was smaller than he'd expected, with bright, inquisitive eyes that darted around the narrow hallway, taking everything in.
Her hair, which he now saw was intricately braided, framed a face that held a mix of apprehension and quiet determination. She wore a slightly oversized diner uniform, clearly fresh out of the package.
Zak stepped out, closing the door behind him.
"I'm Zak," he stated, his voice still flat, offering no smile or extended hand. He just looked at her, his distant gaze seeming to pass through her, revealing neither welcome nor disdain.
"Mrs. Elena asked me to show you around."
As he met her gaze, a flicker of recognition sparked in Zak's mind. This was the girl.
The exact same one he'd seen sprinting near the academy gates that morning, her braided hair a blur behind her. And again, just hours ago, darting with frantic urgency as he left school.
The thought registered, a quiet observation in the back of his detached mind, but he gave no indication of it, his expression remaining utterly neutral.
Clara, on the other hand, vibrated with a nervous energy that seemed almost to glow. She was the polar opposite of Zak's quiet stoicism, a whirlwind of suppressed eagerness and a stark contrast to his perpetual calm.
Without preamble, Zak turned and led her into the bustling kitchen. He moved with practiced efficiency, pointing out the coffee machines, the griddle, the various stations for preparing orders. His explanations were concise and devoid of unnecessary detail, focusing only on the essential tasks: taking orders, serving food, cleaning tables, and handling payments.
Clara listened intently, her head nodding, occasionally asking a quick, soft question that Zak answered with brief, to-the-point responses. He showed her how to reset tables, where to find the cleaning supplies, and the system for ringing up orders on the old, clunky register.
After a quick tour of the main dining area, Zak stopped by the corkboard near the staff breakroom, where the weekly schedules were pinned. "What's your shift schedule?" he asked, his gaze already scanning the rows of names and timings.
Clara moved closer, her finger tracing down the column until she found her name. As Zak's eyes followed hers, he paused. Just beneath his own, her assigned hours mirrored his perfectly, both starting and ending at the exact same time. They had the same shift.
"Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Zak stated, his voice still flat, but a faint, almost imperceptible line appeared between his brows. His days of simply existing, he realized, were indeed just beginning to be complicated by the most unexpected turns.
Clara's nervous energy seemed to lessen slightly at the shared schedule, replaced by a flicker of curiosity.
"Excuse me, sir," she began, her voice a little more confident now.
"Which academy do you go to? I'm a new transferee, so I'm still getting my bearings."
Zak turned, his gaze briefly meeting hers before sliding past.
"Just Zak, please," he replied, his tone as even and uninflected as ever.
"Pillarstone Academy," he continued. "Same as everyone here, probably."
"Ohh, so that's why we both have the same schedule!" Clara murmured, a relieved smile touching her lips as understanding dawned.
"I just transferred there today. It's... a lot to take in."
"And try not to take things too fast here," Zak stated, his flat voice cutting through her lingering nervousness.
"I've seen you running around like there's an emergency every time I look up."
Clara's cheeks flushed a bright crimson, her gaze dropping to her oversized shoes.
"Oh. I... I guess I just get a bit carried away," she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.
Zak merely grunted, a noncommittal sound that indicated neither interest nor disinterest.
He didn't look at her, his gaze already sweeping over the now steadily filling dining room. The first few customers were settling into booths, their evening chatter already beginning to fill the air. The clatter of plates from the kitchen intensified.
"Alright," Zak said, pushing off from the corkboard.
"Time to work. Stay close." He didn't wait for her reply, already moving towards the swinging kitchen doors, leaving Clara to quickly fall into step behind him, her vibrant energy a stark contrast to his unhurried but efficient stride.
The shift, and their unexpected shared journey, had officially begun. The aroma of frying bacon and brewing coffee, once welcoming, had become a heavy, familiar blanket by the end of their shift. Plates had clattered, orders had been shouted, and the evening chatter of the diners had slowly dwindled to a contented hum as the last customers departed.
Zak moved with his usual efficient rhythm, wiping down tables and stacking chairs, Clara mirroring his movements, though with a persistent, almost eager energy that seemed to defy the late hour. They worked in a comfortable, if somewhat silent, tandem, the routine quickly becoming second nature for the new hire.
Just as Zak finished wiping down the counter by the register, the familiar jingle of the bell above the door announced an arrival. He looked up to see Mrs. Elena stepping into the diner, her kind eyes sweeping over the tidied space and landing on him and Clara. A warm smile spread across her face.
"Evening, you two," Mrs. Elena greeted, her voice cheerful despite the late hour. She walked towards Clara, her smile widening.
"So, Clara, how was your first shift? Did Zak manage to teach you everything properly?"
Clara's face brightened further.
"Oh, it was great, Mrs. Elena!" she exclaimed, her earlier nervousness replaced by genuine enthusiasm.
"I think I'm getting the hang of everything already. Zak was a really good mentor, very clear with his instructions!"
Mrs. Elena chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she glanced between them.
"Oh, is that so, Clara? A 'good mentor,' you say?" She put a hand on her hip, a playful pout on her lips.
"Now tell me honestly, who's the better teacher? Me, or Zak here?"
Before Clara could answer, Zak, who had been silently wiping down the last remnants of the counter, straightened up.
"My shift's over," he stated, his voice as flat as ever, cutting directly across Mrs. Elena's teasing. He began untying his apron.
"I'll be leaving in a minute."
Mrs. Elena waved a dismissive hand at him, her attention already returning to Clara with a warm smile.
"Don't mind him, dear," she said, her voice softening.
"He might look like that, but he's a good person underneath all that grumbling. Now, you go on and get changed. I'll take care of closing up tonight."
A few minutes later, Zak, Clara, and Mrs. Elena stood outside the diner. The neon glow of the 'Open' sign had been switched off, plunging the storefront into a softer, welcoming darkness. Mrs. Elena locked the door, giving it a firm tug to ensure it was secure.
"Well, you two, thank you for a great shift," Mrs. Elena said, her smile undimmed.
"You both did excellent work tonight."
Clara beamed, a genuine, tired contentment on her face.
"Thank you, Mrs. Elena! Goodnight, sir." She glanced shyly at Zak.
"Goodnight," Zak mumbled, his gaze fixed on a distant point. He offered a slight, almost imperceptible nod to Mrs. Elena.
"Goodnight, you two," Mrs. Elena replied warmly, waving as Zak and Clara turned to head in their respective directions. "See you both tomorrow!"
"See you tomorrow!" Clara chirped, waving back, her voice already a little lighter than when she'd arrived.
Zak just walked, his silence a familiar companion, as he turned the corner the familiar corners on his way home.