For the rest of the evening, I kept drifting back and forth between fragments of Kazuo's words and the reality right in front of me. I tried to sort it all out and line it up into something that made sense, but I couldn't.
By the time the customers started drifting out, one by one, the bar had sunk into that hollow, end-of-the-night quiet.
When we flipped the chairs upside down onto the tables and wiped down every surface, there were only minutes left until closing.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Lately, my nerves had been stretched so thin that the sharp jingle made me flinch so hard I nearly jumped out of my skin. My head snapped toward the door.
He was standing in the doorway.
Before I could even open my mouth, Kazuo spoke up from where he was wiping down the last table.
"We're actually closing," he said flatly. "We're not mixing anything now. Luka doesn't have time to shake up one of your fancy cocktails. You should probably head home."
I looked from Kazuo to him, my brain lagging behind reality.
He didn't seem bothered. "First of all," he said calmly, "good evening." He paused. "And secondly, it is tragic that I won't get to try one of those delicious cocktails, but a beer will do just fine." He glanced at Kazuo. "You do have a few minutes to fetch me a bottle, don't you?"
Kazuo let out an irritated sigh, turned to me, and muttered, "Give him a beer," before walking off to deal with the trash bags.
I grabbed a bottle from the fridge, popped it open, and slid it to him.
"Hi," I said quietly.
He looked at me for a long moment, then smiled faintly. "Hello."
"You're… late tonight," I added.
"Yes. Things have been… complicated lately. But I finally managed to get away." He said.
He sat there while I finished up closing duties, rolling the bottle lightly between his palms, and didn't take a single sip.
Kazuo came back in, tying off a trash bag.
"We've got literally a couple of minutes left," he said. "Either finish it now, or I toss it. I'm not saving it."
"You can throw it away," he said, looking at him.
He handed the untouched bottle back, stood up, adjusted his coat, and then turned to me.
"I'll wait for you outside." He said and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
Kazuo gave me a strange, thoughtful look, then nodded. "Alright. Let's close up."
We finished the last small things and went out through the back door. While he was turning the key in the lock, sealing the bar for the night, he said casually, "Don't wait for me. You can go. Your escort is waiting."
"What escort? He probably only wanted to ask something." I scoffed.
"Yeah. Sure," Kazuo drawled, clearly amused.
We stepped out of the alley onto the main street. Kazuo turned the other way, lifted a hand in a lazy wave.
"I'm off."
And just like that, he was gone.
I had no choice but to walk toward Ed's car. When he saw me, he smiled calmly, stepped out, and opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
I hesitated for half a second, then did as he said and slid into the passenger seat. Ed walked around the front of the car, opened the driver's door, and got in beside me. The door shut, sealing us inside the quiet space of the car, the city noise instantly muted.
He fastened his seatbelt and started the engine.
I sat there, still trying to process everything.
"So… are we going somewhere?" I asked. "Or…?"
"Tell me where to take you."
I blinked. "What?"
"I came to get you. I'm taking you home. So, what's your address?" he said evenly.
I stared at him, completely thrown off.
"Well… okay."
I gave him my address. He typed it into the navigation system, and we pulled away.
"It's not far," I muttered. "I could've walked."
"You've been walking these past few days enough."
That single sentence sent a chill down my spine. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," he said lightly. "How was your day?"
My day… I froze.
My day had been fear, tension, and the aftermath of Kazuo's words. But how could I dump all of that on him now?
"Fine," I said finally.
"Fine," he repeated. "Got it."
We drove in silence for a while. I glanced at him now and then, trying not to make it obvious, but I was completely lost.
This day had to be trying to drive me insane. First one thing, then another, and now I was sitting in his car, not even sure how I'd ended up there, why he was driving me home, what he'd come for in the first place. The questions didn't stop spinning in my head, turning everything into an even bigger mess than before.
I wanted to ask him why. What for. But for some reason, I couldn't make myself do it.
Instead, I asked what had been bothering me for days.
"So… how are you?" I said. "I mean… after that night."
He was quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, then said, "If you mean my last visit, I'm fine. I wouldn't say it affected me much."
He glanced at me briefly, then back at the road.
"How about you?" he asked.
When I heard his question, a lump rose straight to my throat again. I wanted to spill everything. Tell him what had been happening to me, what had been going on inside my head. Maybe he'd understand. Maybe he'd say something that would make my life even a little easier.
But that would've sounded pathetic. And I already looked pathetic enough in front of him.
I hesitated, then said quietly, "I talked to Kazuo today. He said it's time for me to choose a path."
"A path?" he repeated. "What kind of path?"
"Honestly, I don't fully get it," I admitted. "So I guess I need some time to think about it. To figure it out."
I glanced at him. "What do you think? Do you think we always have to choose something?"
What the hell am I even saying, I thought. He probably has no idea what I'm talking about. Why would he even care?
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel again, then said slowly, "I don't know what you and your boss were discussing. However, in my experience, choosing comes with risk. Every choice means sacrificing something." A faint smile crossed his lips. "I don't know if that helps. But maybe you should ask yourself what risks this choice brings, and whether you're ready for them. I'm not always ready myself…"
I watched him, trying to understand what he really meant.
"Risks?" I asked carefully. "You mean… like someone coming after us again?"
He smiled slightly. "That too."
The car slowed. I looked up and realized we were already outside my building.
Ed leaned forward, resting his arms on the wheel, and looked at me.
"Everything will be alright," he said. "One way or another." Then, softer: "Get some rest, bartender."
He hadn't called me that in a long time.
Something about it felt unsettling. Wrong. But I brushed the thought aside.
"You too," I said. "Have a good night."
I stepped out of the car.
He didn't drive away, watching until I reached the door.
Why did he come tonight?
Was he worried about me?
Did he really come to make sure I got home?
I closed the door behind me, full of questions… and no answers.