Kairos stood frozen on the path for a full minute after Ares disappeared, the word "date" echoing in the silent, screaming void of his mind. He had done it. He had actually asked. And she had actually said yes.
A slow, dawning horror began to mix with the elation. He had to figure out where they were going. What did that even mean? What kind of place did you take Ares Peterson? Not a wing joint, that was for sure. Somewhere... nice. Somewhere with actual menus and maybe cloth napkins. The kind of place where you didn't have to shout over the deep fryer.
Panic, his oldest and most reliable friend, began to sink its claws in. He needed help. He needed counsel. He needed... his friends.
He practically ran back to his dorm, his mind racing faster than his feet. He burst into his room, grabbed his phone, and typed into the group chat with a trembling finger.
Kairos: EMERGENCY MEETING. MY ROOM. NOW.
The responses were instantaneous.
Robin: did the sink come back to life? is it seeking vengeance? Sam:Did you ban another harmless word? Did you break the internet again? Drake:If this is about the urinal again, I stand by my artistic expression.
Kairos: NO. BIGGER. HUMAN EMERGENCY. PLEASE.
Ten minutes later, his door flew open. Robin, Sam, and Drake piled in, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.
"What's the code red?" Robin asked, scanning the room for signs of flooding or fire.
Kairos took a deep breath. "I asked Ares out. To dinner. Like, a date-date. And she said yes."
The room went completely silent.
Three faces stared at him, frozen in various states of shock.
Then, chaos erupted.
"YES!" Robin roared, launching himself at Kairos and grabbing him in a headlock. "THE DOOR GUY GETS THE GIRL! I KNEW IT! I CALLED IT!"
"Get off," Kairos grunted, shoving him away, but he was grinning.
"Hold on. Rewind," Sam said, holding up a hand, his brow furrowed in intense analysis. "You. Kairos. Used your human words. To form a sentence. That was not about code. And it worked?"
"Apparently," Kairos said, his ears burning.
Drake just shook his head, a look of profound respect on his face. "You have more courage than I ever gave you credit for, man. I'd rather face a ranked match with 200ms ping than ask her out."
"Okay, okay, details," Robin said, clapping his hands together and adopting the demeanor of a general planning a siege. "Where are you taking her? It has to be good. Not too fancy, she'll think you're trying too hard. Not too casual, she'll think you're not trying at all. It's a delicate operation."
"I don't know!" Kairos wailed, running a hand through his hair. "That's the emergency! She said I have to pick! I've never... I don't know what I'm doing!"
"Right. First, we rule places out," Sam said, pulling out his phone. "No wing joints. No burger places. No anywhere with a number in the name."
"Yeah he's basically saying no item7" Robin said, nodding.
"No campus-adjacent pasta places that give you a free breadstick," Drake added. "Too many undergrad dates. She'll have seen it a million times."
"What about that Italian place downtown?" Robin suggested. "The one with the little candles on the tables. 'La Luna' or something. It's nice but not 'sell your kidney' nice."
"La Luna is a solid 7.5 out of 10 on the romance scale," Sam nodded, approvingly. "Good bread, too. A known factor."
"But what if it's too... obvious?" Kairos fretted. "What if it's where everyone goes?"
"Dude, you are overthinking this," Robin said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're not being graded on originality of venue. You're being graded on not spilling food on yourself. La Luna is perfect. It's quiet enough to talk. The lighting is forgiving. It's a classic for a reason."
"Okay," Kairos said, feeling a sliver of confidence. "La Luna. Okay."
"Now, what are you going to wear?" Drake asked, eyeing Kairos's usual uniform of hoodie and jeans with deep suspicion.
Kairos looked down at himself. "Clothes?"
The three of them groaned in unison.
"No. Absolutely not," Robin declared. "We are going to do a fashion show. Right now. You own a shirt with buttons. I know you do. I've seen it. It's probably plaid and deeply tragic, but it's a start."
For the next hour, his dorm room was transformed into a bizarre combination of war room and boutique. Robin ruthlessly vetoed every item of clothing Kairos pulled from his closet. Sam researched the menu of La Luna to pre-plan conversational topics ("The mushroom risotto is a safe bet. Don't get the spaghetti, it's too messy."). Drake, the artist, was in charge of "vibe," critiquing color combinations and the drape of various shirts.
They finally settled on a dark green button-down that Robin had forgotten lending him ages ago and a pair of dark, non-denim pants that Sam produced from his own closet.
"Look at you," Robin said, stepping back to admire their handiwork. "You're almost a real boy....almost."
Kairos looked at himself in the mirror. He looked... different. Older. Less like a student who lived on code and caffeine.
"What do I talk about?" he asked, the panic returning. "What if we run out of things to say?"
"You talk about anything except the app," Sam instructed. "No bugs, no updates, no pigeons. Talk about... I don't know, movies. Music. That time in second grade you cried because you couldn't tie your shoes."
"That is a terrible idea," Drake said.
"It's relatable!" Sam insisted.
"Just be yourself, man," Robin said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "The self that built a whole app with her. The self that sings Miku songs in the street. You don't need to be anyone else. She already said yes to that guy."
The simplicity of it cut through Kairos's anxiety. Robin was right. She'd seen him at his most frustrated, his most ridiculous, his most sleep-deprived. And she'd still said yes.
He took a deep breath. "Okay. La Luna. Green shirt. No talk of servers."
"Attaboy," Robin grinned. "Now, you're going to practice not slouching. Posture is key."
"Composure is key"
"Same thing" Sam waved.
As his friends descended upon him with more unsolicited advice, Kairos felt a wave of gratitude so strong it nearly knocked him over. His life might be a magnet for chaos, but he had a first-class crew to help him navigate it. They might be ridiculous, but they were his. And they were all-in for him.
He had a date. He had a plan. And he had three of the weirdest, most loyal wingmen on the planet.
For the first time all day, the nervous flutter in his stomach felt a little bit more like excitement.