The day of the date arrived with the subtlety of a server crash. Kairos woke up at 5:17 AM, his heart already hammering a rhythm of pure, uncaffeinated panic. The meticulous plan crafted by the Council of Bros felt flimsy in the harsh light of dawn. What if La Luna was closed? What if they'd misjudged the vibe entirely? What if he'd somehow forgotten how to use cutlery?
He spent the morning in a state of high-alert paralysis. He tried to code, but his brain kept autocorrecting console.log to console.dancefloor?. He tried to play a game, but found himself critically analyzing the NPC dialogue trees for tips on conversation. He even attempted to clean his room again, but gave up after spending ten minutes meticulously aligning his stress balls.
At noon, his phone buzzed. It was Ares.
Ares: So. Tonight. What's the dress code? So I know how badly to embarrass you.
The message was so perfectly her—teasing, confident, but with a question hidden within it. She was nervous too. The realization was a balm to his own frayed nerves.
Kairos: The council of bros has decreed "casual but you made an effort." So, you know, wear shoes. Ares:The council of bros? Do I want to know? Kairos:Probably not. They vetoed four of my shirts. It was brutal. Ares:I'm intrigued. And slightly afraid. Ares:See you at 7.
The simple exchange grounded him. It was still them. Just with the added, terrifyingly wonderful context of a date.
By 6 PM, the Council had reconvened in his room for the final briefing. Robin was acting as stylist, fussing with the collar of the green shirt. Sam was running through a checklist.
"Wallet? Keys? Phone charged? Breath mints?" "Yes,yes, yes, and I'm not a monster, of course," Kairos said, batting Robin's hands away. "Vibe check,"Drake said, squinting at him. "You're giving off… nervous librarian." "What does that even mean?" "Just…try to loosen up. Think about something that makes you happy. Like… a really efficient algorithm."
Kairos shot him a look. "That is the least helpful advice I have ever received."
At 6:45 PM, they shoved him out the door with a series of encouraging slaps on the back and a final, shouted reminder from Robin: "NO TALKING ABOUT DATABASES!"
The walk to La Luna was a blur of deep breathing and rehearsed small talk in his head. 'How was your day?' Too boring. 'Nice weather.' It's night. 'So, the geopolitical climate…' NO.
He arrived five minutes early. The restaurant was exactly as described: warm lighting, checkered tablecloths, the soft murmur of conversation. It was nice. It was normal. He gave his name to the hostess, his voice cracking slightly.
And then he waited. Every second stretched into an eternity. What if she'd changed her mind? What if she'd been hit by a bus? What if she'd finally come to her senses and realized this was a catastrophic error in judgment?
He was mentally drafting the apology text for his inevitable stand-up when the door opened.
Ares walked in.
The world narrowed to the space around her. She wasn't wearing a blazer. She wore a simple, dark sweater and jeans that looked… new. Her hair was down, falling around her shoulders in a way he'd never seen before. She looked… softer. Real. And utterly breathtaking.
She spotted him, and a small, slightly hesitant smile touched her lips. It was the same smile from the pizza place, the one that reached her eyes and made his stomach do a backflip.
"Hey," she said, walking over. "You made it. And you're wearing shoes. The council of bros has high standards."
"You're… here," he said, intelligently.
"I am," she replied, her smile widening. "You okay? You look like you're waiting for a server to reboot."
"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to breathe. "Just… running a systems check. All green."
The hostess led them to a small, quiet table in the corner. The dreaded silence descended as they looked at their menus. Kairos's mind went blank. All the pre-planned topics—movies, music, Sam's second-grade shoe trauma—vanished from his brain, replaced by a loud, staticky hum.
Ares looked over her menu at him. "So," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I hear the mushroom risotto is a safe bet."
The spell broke. He burst out laughing, the tension shattering. "Sam ratted me out."
"He may have sent me a very detailed dossier," she admitted, setting her menu down. "Complete with a risk assessment of the spaghetti. I'm impressed by their operational security."
They ordered—the risotto for him, a pasta dish for her—and the conversation, once started, didn't stop. It was easy. It was the easiest thing in the world. They talked about everything and nothing. They talked about their weirdest professors, their favorite terrible movies, the existential dread of choosing a major. He told her about the time he'd tried to build a robot in high school and it had caught fire. She told him about Selene's various disastrous attempts to teach her how to cook.
They kept their promise. They didn't talk about the app. They didn't talk about the pigeon. For one glorious hour, they weren't the genius developer and the meticulous product manager. They were just Kairos and Ares. Two people at a table, making each other laugh.
When the bill came, they split it without a second thought, a silent, comfortable agreement.
(AN: yeah this is the moral story here, GENZ!!! Can y'all see how they split the bills like matured humans?)
They stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city a gentle hum around them.
"So," Ares said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "That was… nice."
"It was," Kairos agreed, his heart feeling too big for his chest. "No server errors. No middleware conflicts."
"A successful deployment," she said, nodding sagely.
They walked back toward campus, the silence between them now comfortable, filled with the unspoken buzz of the evening. When they reached the fork in the path that led to their respective dorms, they both stopped.
"Well," Ares said. "Thanks for dinner. And for not making me talk about data serialization."
"Thanks for not running away when I started talking about my robotic pyromaniac phase," he replied.
She smiled that real smile again. "Goodnight, Kairos."
"Goodnight, Ares."
He stood there for a moment, watching her walk away until she disappeared into the night. Then he turned and started walking home, a slow, ridiculous grin spreading across his face.
He didn't need the Council of Bros to debrief. He knew.
It had been perfect.