The sparkling city view at the end of the day always coincided with my break time, but I never liked the thin sunset hiding behind the giant buildings. I sat on the second floor balcony at the back of the kitchen, chewing on plain bread and sipping bottled cappuccino. Nothing special about this place, except for the magnificent buildings towering in front of me. I felt small and insignificant, yet not afraid of anything or anyone disturbing my solitude.
That was until he showed up, the weird guy with a perpetual smile for every person in the kitchen. He wasn't a waiter or cashier, and nobody seemed to notice him except me. I didn't understand his need to smile all the time in this hot and stressful place.
"Hi, again... I guess," he greeted me, his smile sending chills down my spine.
I didn't like him, but he kept trying to befriend me despite my rejection. I had told him before that I wasn't interested in having friends. "I'm looking for someone who can join me to destroy this world and kill some people with me," I said, half-jokingly.
"Then... let me in. I can be your partner. Who can I kill for you first?" he replied, taking me by surprise.
I had never expected anyone to take my words seriously. The thought of having someone to share my twisted desire excited and touched me at the same time. But I hesitated. "You don't even know why I want to do that thing," I said, wary of his motives.
"I don't have to. I know I'm not like this world and the people in it. They must have done horrible things to you, that's why you want to do it too. And I won't force you to tell me your story," he said, his smile never fading.
I felt a pang of guilt and shame for judging him too quickly. I had assumed he was just another happy-go-lucky fool, but he had a depth of empathy that surprised me. "But I want to ask something... why don't you ever smile?" he asked.
I froze, realizing that I had forgotten to keep up my guard. Smiling was a weakness, a reminder of the past I wanted to forget. "If I smile, I'll forget all of my pain and my aim. And when I forget it, I'll become my old self again," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He nodded, as if understanding my dilemma. "So, you hate your old self and don't want to be like her again. I see..." he said, his smile turning into a sympathetic expression.
"...but you know? You have to learn to smile. People really like it when someone smiles at them. If you smile, you can approach them and stab them with a knife. It's the easiest way to do it. You're a chef, not a sniper, so you're better with a knife than a gun, and you need it. You must try to get as close to the enemy as possible."
I didn't know what to make of him, but I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had found someone who could share my burden.
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