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“hey bud.”
the player halted mid-step, having begun to walk back to their house with a clearly stolen egg. they snapped to look at cashier, guilt and fear obvious in their tense form. cashier found it a bit funny and maybe mildly concerning how scared the player was of him, but now was not the time.
“you’re a player, right?” cashier felt a bit stupid asking this, but he could never be too sure.
the player nodded hesitantly, tilting their head slightly out of curiosity.
cashier hummed. “so… you can join other… what are they called, experiences? games? you know.”
the player nodded again, their guilt from stealing seemingly forgotten. they took a few steps forward, closing the somewhat awkwardly large gap between the two.
cashier shifted against the wall, raising his head to meet the player’s eyes. this was a stupid question, but well. he was really, really bored. “...any you wanna tell me about?”
the player paused, raising their free hand to their chin in thought. they shifted slightly, lowering their hand and tapping their four main fingers against their thumb. after a second or two they shrugged helplessly.
it took cashier an embarrassingly long moment to remember that the player couldn’t speak. he rubbed his face with a groan. “sorry, i… forgot. uhm, let me see if you have anything to write with in the store or something.”
the player flashed a thumbs up with a smile. cashier felt like the weight on his shoulders increased a little more.
dummy was still inside (where else would they go?), sitting on the fallen shelf like always. they looked a bit surprised that cashier had come back into the store after going out for his break, but didn’t ask any questions.
“do you think you could hold the freezer door open for me?”
“Sure,” dummy said, giving him an odd look. nevertheless, they kept the freezer door open as cashier rummaged through boxes he had never opened before. his search proved successful, thankfully, as he ducked out with a notebook and a pack of crayons. why these things were kept in the freezer was beyond cashier, but he wasn’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.
dummy eyed the things in cashier’s arms as the freezer door closed behind them. they looked outside, then back at the items. “Ah. Are those for the player to communicate?”
cashier nodded, making his way back outside. “Have fun,” dummy said, and he couldn’t tell if the smile in their tone was sarcastic or genuine.
“...thanks,” cashier replied. the door chimed as it shut behind him. the night was warm, thankfully. the chill from being in the freezer would hopefully wear off soon.
the player was sitting on the curb, curled up with their legs to their chest. they seemed to be absentmindedly picking at their socked feet, and perked up when the door chimed, giving a little wave. they looked so… small. like a kid. there were bags under their eyes and a tired slouch to their shoulders, but it was so obvious they were a kid .
what an unpleasant thought.
cashier had never had a need to ask the player how old they were, and it wasn't like he ever told them his age. it just never seemed important. but still, if the player really was just a kid… that would explain a lot, actually. and oh, if that didn’t make him feel worse than he already did.
he cleared his throat in a vain attempt to change his train of thought. “hey. i found some things.”
he took a seat on the curb next to them. the player took the notepad easily enough, but paused with their hand above the crayons. they gave cashier a look that somehow conveyed ‘are you kidding me?’
“sorry, these were all i could find,” cashier said with a small shrug, not very sorry at all.
the player huffed, snatching the crayons with playful offence. he couldn’t help the small smile on his face, and he could see the player wore one as well.
they considered the crayons, picking out a black one. they gave cashier a glance before scribbling something down and handing the notebook over.
what do you want to know about?
cashier shrugged as he handed it back. “i don’t know. just… whatever games you like to play, i guess? i’m curious.”
hopefully the night was dark enough that the player didn't see the embarrassed blush on his face. even if they did, they didn’t comment on it. they put the crayon to their chin in thought. cashier worried for a moment that they were going to chew on it. he wouldn’t be surprised, he had seen what they’ve put in their mouth.
the player proved him wrong, the crayon left unchewed for now. they drew a line to separate their former message from their current and began writing again. cashier looked away, gazing at the little parking lot outside of the store. there were so many things, making the once empty place feel quite lively. even if the other npcs only repeated the same things, the general addition of more objects made the area more… enjoyable.
maybe cashier was giving himself too much credit. but, possibly, adding all the new endings wasn’t a total screw-up on his part. and hey, the player seemed to enjoy doing the new endings.
speaking of the player, cashier was broken from his thoughts as the notebook was shoved towards him. the player was grinning, almost vibrating where they sat. their handwriting was… subpar, and writing in crayon definitely didn’t help, but it was still legible. even if cashier felt like an old man for squinting at their words.
theres a lot of games for a lot of different people. i have 4 5 favorites but sometimes i'll play other ones. it depends
one of the more popular ones is called asen arsenal. it’s a fps gun game where you have to get the most kills with random ized guns first to win. like a race its fun but sometims it makes me mad lol
cashier raised a skeptical eyebrow at player. “are you sure you’re old enough to be playing a gun game?”
cashier was surprised to hear player laugh at that. their laugh was surprisingly quiet for how loud of a person they presented themself as. cashier suddenly realized this was the first time he had heard them laugh. it had always been timid smiles and nervous waves, and it wasn’t like there wasn’t much humor to be found in what happened to them all before.
the punch to his shoulder shocked him out of his thoughts. “ow! what was that for?” cashier complained, rubbing his shoulder. his act was ruined by his smile, though.
the player snatched the notebook out of his hand with an angry noise. they quickly scribbled something down before practically shoving it in his face. in large, messy letters, cashier read EATM Y PENIS
cashier barked a laugh, pushing the notebook away from his face. “ease up on the language, bud! i’m pretty sure you aren’t old enough to say that!”
player stared at him with the most gobsmacked face he had ever seen, before hitting him on the back of the head with the notebook. cashier swatted them away, grinning so hard his face hurt. it appeared they weren’t done, though, as they proceeded to rip the page out, compact it into a ball, and throw it directly towards his face. inexplicably they missed, hitting his chest instead. cashier was laughing too hard to even mock them for it.
cashier gasped for breath, rubbing his eyes. he could hear player laughing again, and out of the corner of his eye he could see how large their smile was. something in his chest warmed and he felt his smile become softer.
abruptly he sat up, coughing a few times to clear his throat. he adjusted his hat, fixing his hair in the process. he picked the paper ball up and set it aside to throw away later. “very mature behavior,” he remarked, and player snickered.
they wasted no time in returning to writing. cashier rubbed his eyes, getting rid of the tears from laughing so hard. he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that.
he paused, hand shaking slightly against his face. had he ever laughed like that before? he…
has he ever even laughed? looking back, the closest he had probably gotten were the sharp and fake ones he had a habit of doing when angry or stressed. which he had done a lot, but those didn’t really count, did they?
cashier blinked furiously, all former humor gone. he pressed his hand against his eyes and green lights fireworked behind his eyelids. he felt nauseous, he was going to be sick—
something poked him in his side. scrubbing his eyes, cashier looked at a worried player. they were biting the bottom of their lip nervously, head tilted in an obvious question.
“‘m fine, bud, don’t worry.” cashier tried to give them a smile. “just got something in my eye.”
they didn’t look convinced. they turned to a new page and wrote with a minutely trembling hand did i do something? is it my fault
cashier stared at the words. anything he wanted to say got caught in his throat, and the most he could manage was “uh. no.”
almost immediately, he realized how insincere that sounded. he pinched himself. god, this sucks. player shifted a little, slowly writing something down.
do you want to talk about it
cashier shook his head before player even finished. “no, uh, don’t worry about it. it’s nothing. you’re a player, you wouldn’t understand.”
he tried to discreetly wipe his eyes. he heard a small sniffle beside him and something painful twisted in his chest. he almost didn’t want to look over, and yet.
player was hunched over. there was another small sniffle, muffled like they were trying to hide the fact they were crying. and god, cashier really felt like punching himself right now. maybe he could ask dummy to slap him later.
cashier was stiff, and he almost reached out but hesitated. what does he say, what should he say? there were too many underlying tones to the crayola message asking if it’s their fault, and his tone was too sharp and dismissive and it was his fault and he made player cry.
he took too long to decide what to do, as player grips the crayon in a tight fist. they write before dropping the notebook on the group and standing up, keeping their face turned from cashier.
im going home
they pulled their hood up over their backwards hat. in any other situation it might’ve been comical. but right now, they looked like they were about to bolt back to their house, and there was nothing comical about that.
cashier needed to say something fast. he was really, really not good at comforting people, but he couldn’t just let the player run off crying, especially since this was his whole fault.
“hey, wait. um, please.”
despite how awkward he sounded, the player surprisingly stopped. they lowered their hand from their face, slowly turning to face him. unshed tears shined in their eyes from the weak light from inside the store. cashier felt like taking all the data by himself might’ve been less painful than this.
cashier pushed himself up into a crouching-almost standing position. player had started rubbing their eyes again, taking a step or two back. cashier hesitated, before carefully speaking. “can you let me explain something before you leave? it’s, um, not about why i was upset earlier, but i can tell you why if you want. it’s— there’s something i really need to tell you. please?”
the player stared at the ground for a few moments. cashier had begun to worry they would just run off, when they jerkily nodded their head. they trudged back over and plopped down on the curb.
cashier lowered himself to sit as well, nervously picking at his pants. he glanced at player out of the corner of his eye. they were hugging their legs to their chest, their head ducked down so he couldn’t see their face. something painful twisted inside him.
cashier sighed, looking away. “listen, i know i’ve said it before, but i just wanted to say… i’m sorry.”
he stared ahead. he couldn’t bear to look at them now. “i’m sorry, because i realized that whole,” he gestured, “ situation was sort of blamed on you, when it really shouldn’t have. yeah, everyone apologized to you, but- you know, it was really implied that it was your fault. which it really wasn’t. this world is a game and you’re a player, it’s your job to play games. it’s not your fault for doing the one thing you’re supposed to do.”
he stared at his hands, clenching his pants in tight fists. if he squinted hard enough, he could trick himself into seeing them through a green tint. “if anything, it’s my fault. i-i don’t know, i was scared, and of course now i look back and realize that ‘hey, if you wanted to delete your save data, you would’ve done so the moment the game bugged!’ but- you know. i just- i wasn’t thinking straight and i made everything worse.”
cashier’s face felt hot. he was surprised he hadn’t ripped his pants with how tight his grip was. “i just- i want you to know i don’t blame you, and i’m pretty sure dummy doesn’t either. you’re just a kid and none of this was your fault.”
he was rambling and he wasn’t making sense but he couldn’t stop himself. his hands hurt. “and i’ve been treating you- both you and dummy horribly. and i don’t- well i know why, but that doesn’t mean i- you know what i mean. you didn’t deserve that. a-and i almost killed you. it probably wouldn’t have- you know, actually done anything but- i don’t know, i just keep thinking about it. i- god, i’m sorry.”
there was a small tug to his sleeve. cashier finally stopped. he unclenched one of his hands to rub the dampness in his eyes. “sorry,” he whispered, and if he said anymore he might’ve started crying harder.
a hand grabbed his arm and gently moved it down. the notebook was placed in his hand, and a crayon tapped the message. he still couldn’t bring himself to look over, but with a miserable sniff he read what they had written.
listen it’s not your fault. yes you did sorta mess with stuff u shouldn’t have but people dont think rationally under stress. you were just mad and scared and stressed and i dont blame you. you know we all kinda messed up in that situation which makes nobody be at fault it cancels out like math
cashier was surprised to hear himself wetly laugh, wiping his eyes. “what does that even mean, ‘like math’?”
player huffed, reaching over and very messily writing with a blue crayon you dont see my artistic vision. ignoring the total invasion of his personal space, cashier chuckled and nudged them away. “alright, bud.”
he looked back down at the notebook in his lap. his smile faded as he skimmed over what player wrote. “why aren’t you mad?” he mumbled.
player looked at him. cashier couldn’t meet their eyes. “i tried to kill you. i would’ve broken the entire game to stop you from touching that button. so why,” he gestured at the notebook, then angrily at them, “are you still here? i’ve been fucking mean and horrible and i was going to kill you with no regrets and you’re still coming back here. i’ve treated you horribly but you’re trying to talk to me and be my- my friend. i don’t-” he choked.
“i don’t understand ,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop himself from crying.
the notebook was gently tugged from his hands, not like he really noticed. cashier pulled his legs up to his chest as if it would help him feel any less miserable. his breaths were too quick, and each exhale caught in his lungs. he couldn’t take deep enough breaths and he didn’t know what was going on. it was too much. he curled up tighter on himself, trying to hide from something, he didn’t know what. his hands somehow ended up in his hair, and with detached desperation he pulled. it stung but he still couldn’t get enough air down his lungs and he still didn’t understand.
there was so much he didn’t know. he was just a cashier and he didn’t know why he did the things he did. he didn’t know why he was so scared, he didn’t know why he thought it was okay to do what he did, and he didn’t know why player insisted on coming back again and again. it was getting even harder to breathe, and god he didn’t know why. maybe he was dying.
small hands gently grab his wrists. cashier jerked, coughing out another sob. slowly, his hands were lowered from his hair. he unfolded slightly, breathing quick and sharp. player had moved to crouch in front of him, concern etched in their face and tense figure.
cashier stared at them with wide eyes. “what- what’s going on?” he sucked in a breath. “i c-can’t breathe, i can’t-”
player let go of his wrists, grabbing their notebook and quickly scribbling something down. ur having a panic attack focus on breathing
cashier gasped. “p-panic attack? i d-don’t- can’t-”
player took one of his hands, guiding it to their chest. they take an exaggerated breath in, holding up their other hand and counting to four. then they exhale, counting back up to four again.
cashier felt the way their chest expanded with each breath, watched their fingers count up, and tried his best to copy them. his breaths were quick and sharp and he felt like he was suffocating. but slowly, each inhale became not quite as greedy and desperate, every breath out just a little bit easier.
soon cashier found himself able to breathe again. player let his hand go, and did his hands always shake this bad? player sat back with an exhale, giving him a thumbs up.
cashier took a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his head on his legs. “that was horrible,” he muttered, and player gave him a weak smile.
“...you said that was a, um, panic attack?” cashier asked.
player nodded.
cashier eyed them. “do… will that happen again?”
player thought for a moment, before shaking their hand in a so-so gesture. cashier groaned. they reached for the notebook they had tossed earlier, frowning and trying to smooth the wrinkled pages. after a bit of writing, they turned it around for him to read.
from what i remember there caused by a lot of things. but i think since that was your first time really breaking down (im assuming) you didnt know what was going on and you were just feeling a lot which must have been overwhelming. and sometimes they can be caused because someones just very overwhelmed. so it might happen again it might not its hard to know
“okay,” cashier said. “okay. i- um, sorry. i’m kinda tired but, uh, thank you for helping me. and again, i’m sorry about-”
player shushed him, waving a crayon at him disapprovingly. cashier blinked. they rolled their eyes, holding up a finger in a ‘one moment’ type of way. they flipped back a few pages and continued writing where they had left off earlier.
while he waited, cashier took his visor off to fix its positioning a bit. he pushed some of his hair back into position but stopped, hand trembling against his head. the roots of his hair still tingled slightly where he had pulled. he sighed, dragging a hand down his face before putting his visor back on. he would think about all… that later when he didn't feel so wrung out.
player finally finished, putting the crayon down and shaking their hand to rid of the cramps. they moved to sit back at cashier’s side, holding out the notebook and pointing at the pages. cashier unfurled, looking over at two pages nearly packed with crayola marking. he gave them a doubtful look. “you… want me to read all of this?”
player dropped the notebook in his lap and crossed their arms. cashier rolled his eyes with a huff. “my bad for asking. fine, give me a moment.”
youre only 17. youre allowed to be angry and make mistakes, its a part of living. youre going to do things you regret and thats okay because youre clearly regretting it now which is good!! it means u… i dont want to say matured but i cant think of another word for it . i don’t blame you for what you did it might be hard for you to believe me but i really do forgive you
i keep coming back because i like you and dummy both and i want to get to know you guys better and maybe be your friend. this game has changed my life for the better and i want to try repaying that by being here. ig i also figured that being sentient all of a sudden might be hard or smth and i want to help out as much as i can. being human is fun and all but it can really suck at times too its all part of being alive. i want to show you things that make life worth living if you’ll let me
cashier swiped his eyes, skimming over it again. he cleared his throat. “how- how old are you? because the way you wrote this makes me think my first impressions of your age are wrong.”
player laughed a little, reaching over with crayon in hand. they didn’t outwardly react at the way cashier shrunk a little when they touched his arm. they hesitated a little, before writing two numbers in that charming, messy handwriting of theirs.
“fifteen?” cashier asked, his voice wobbling a little. “you- you’re fifteen? ”
player waved their hand dismissively before cashier could start crying again, making a small correction. 15 and a half
“that doesn’t really make it better,” cashier mumbled. player huffed, hitting the brim of his visor with their crayon. a ghost of a smile crossed his face. it only lasted for a second as their age really sunk in. he had been fully ready and willing to kill a fifteen year old.
player flicked his arm. cashier blinked, and they pointed at the notebook he was currently gripping too tightly in his hands. he let out a small “oh,” handing it back over.
they wrote something and then turned it around, holding it to their chest so cashier could see what they wrote. can i hug u?
cashier was at a loss for words for a moment. he shifted slightly. “uh, sure. if- i mean, yeah. okay.”
player set the notebook aside, shifting to sit with their legs folded underneath them. they held their arms out invitingly, giving him a little smile.
cashier analyzed player cautiously, slowly moving to sit like they were. he hesitated, fingers picking at the hem of his shirt. player tilted their head slightly.
cashier’s face felt hot. “don’t look at me like that.”
player shook their arms a bit. cashier subconsciously shrunk back, biting the inside of his lip and glancing away. player sighed, and he could practically hear their eye roll. his only warning was the sound of them shuffling closer. he let out a slightly panicked “wait- '' but didn’t get to finish before they wrapped their arms around him.
they-they were warm. cashier was stiff, but player didn’t let go. gradually, he relaxed in their hold. he tentatively raised his arms to hug them back. emotion clogged his throat, and he sobbed. he ducked his head into their shoulder and still-raised hood, tightening his hold. they smelled faintly of play dough and cake batter.
player didn’t seem to care about the fact that cashier was getting their hoodie wet, or the fact that it must have been uncomfortable with how tight he was holding them, or the fact that he was crying for the third time in the last thirty minutes. they just hummed, never loosening their grip.
and maybe everything will be okay.