The convenience store was always in the same place. The angle at the corner, the timing of the sign entering view, rarely changed. It was late, but the lights were on. That fact did not require confirmation.
Doyoon waited at the crosswalk. The signal changed in its scheduled order. There was no reason to hurry. No footsteps urged him from behind. He crossed after the light turned.
The door opened and a chime sounded. Short. Even. Cold air spilled out before the door fully opened. Doyoon did not treat the chill as notable.
Footprints remained on the floor mat. Dark ones and faded ones mixed together. The difference between waiting and passing through was no longer distinct. The mat did not record it.
Shelves were orderly. Identical items placed at identical intervals. No sign they had been moved. Doyoon walked along a row, noting colors and heights. His hands stayed still.
Behind the counter, the clerk advanced the screen. Each change made a small sound. The clerk did not look at him. There was no need to.
Standing before the refrigerator, Doyoon briefly saw his reflection in the glass. The reflected face looked no different than usual. The expression held. The temperature inside remained stable without opening the door.
He did not recall what he had come to buy. Not recalling felt natural. In places like this, need rarely came first. Choices aligned first, and reasons followed.
There was one other customer. They paused near the counter, picked up an item, and moved on. The path was short. It did not overlap.
Doyoon did not follow that path. There was no reason to. The space was sufficient. No chance of collision.
He glanced at the notices beside the counter. Promotions. Points. Payment methods. Familiar sentences. Reading took no time. Judgment was unnecessary.
Still, he paused there. The pause was not long. But he did not pass immediately. Before, he would already have turned toward the door.
He did not make the difference into a problem. He chose not to. Delays like this were common in daily life. They belonged to the category that could be ignored.
The clerk looked up again. No words. Doyoon neither avoided nor met the gaze. It brushed past and moved on.
He passed the counter without placing anything down. The chime sounded again. The door closed at the same speed.
Outside, the air was cold. The temperature change was clear. He inhaled once. The action had no purpose.
The store's light receded behind him. His walking speed remained steady. Neither fast nor slow. The same as always.
He chose not to recall the scene he had just left. There was no need. Nothing had happened. There was no chance that it would have.
Only the fact remained that the judgment took longer than before.
Doyoon did not stop after recognizing it. Daily life continued, and it was meant to.
Nothing happened.
Here, the sentence completed itself too easily.