It had been a week since Keiko’s birthday, and for the past seven days, our little family had done nothing but brainstorm ways for me to return to my original body. But no matter how hard we thought, no clues came up. The only thing that seemed to make sense was maybe trying to retrace every step I’d taken when it happened… but that would mean waiting next year.
We didn’t want to admit it, but deep down, we knew we were stuck for now.
And before we even realized it, Christmas Eve arrived.
The streets outside were decked in shimmering lights, stores blasting cheerful carols, couples walking arm-in-arm through the crisp winter night. Yet for us, there was no time for celebration. The restaurant was swamped with reservations and last-minute walk-ins. Even though we extended our closing hours, the crowds just kept coming.
But then again… we’d never really celebrated Christmas together before. Keiko was always in high demand during holidays. I didn’t blame her; that’s how it was in the restaurant business.
The kitchen was a war zone.
Steam fogged up the windows, knives clattered against cutting boards, and orders piled up faster than we could fill them. Ruka was manning the fryer, Miko dashed between stations, and I bounced between the stove and prep counter.
“Oh my god, this is madness,” Ruka muttered as another ticket came in.
“We need more karaage on table 12!” Miko shouted.
“On it!” I called back, my hand moving almost on instinct now as I threw chicken into the fryer.
And yeah — I forgot to tell you guys. I’d started helping out in the kitchen too. After begging the boss and getting everyone’s okay, I finally got my shot. And honestly? I was loving it. I even started sneaking off to culinary classes during my day-offs.
There was something about cooking for people, seeing the look on their faces when a good meal hit the table. The rush, the pressure, the satisfaction… I was serious about this path now.
Maybe… just maybe, if I could get good enough, I could open my own restaurant one day. Or better yet — build one together with Keiko.
I hadn’t told her about that dream yet though.
My eyes drifted toward her as she moved through the packed dining area, taking orders, handling complaints, smiling through exhaustion. Even with dark circles under her eyes and strands of hair sticking to her damp face, she looked amazing.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been staring until Keiko suddenly turned her head and caught my gaze.
Our eyes met.
I panicked, quickly looking away and pretending to focus on slicing green onions. My face burned in embarrassment.
Idiot.
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny smile tug at her lips before she turned back to her work.
The clock struck 9:30 p.m., and the chaos hadn’t slowed down one bit. Usually by this hour, we’d closed already, but tonight? No chance.
"Ohhh my god… I need a break,” Aki groaned, leaning against the wall near the staff room, her apron stained with sauce and oil.
“We still got one and a half hours, get your ass up,” I teased, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.
“Tch.” Aki rolled her eyes, but I saw the faint grin as she forced herself upright.
Keiko passed by the kitchen entrance, clipboard in hand, her pace quick and eyes sharp. I caught the weary look in her expression though. She was barely holding it together.
“You’re killing it out there, Keiko,” I called after her, offering a grin.
She flashed a tired smile back at me. “Thanks, Ryuko. Hang in there.”
Suddenly, Ruka’s voice rang out. “We’ve run out of tomatoes!”
Miko shouted from the other side of the kitchen, “No more noodles and rice too!”
Keiko jotted it down without missing a beat.
“I’ll run out and grab them,” I offered, stepping toward her.
“No, it’s fine. We’ll be closing soon,” she replied, not even glancing up as she scribbled down a note and darted back into the fray.
I sighed, wiping sweat from my brow. The steam made my skin feel clammy, my muscles ached, and my hands were trembling from the non-stop work.
By 10:30 p.m., the last orders were finally in. Only one couple and a family of four remained, eating quietly.
I was wiping down the stove when a loud voice echoed from the dining area.
"What do you mean you’re out of noodles?!"
Curious, I stepped out from the kitchen. The young couple at table seven was arguing with Keiko. From what I gathered, they had wanted a specific noodle dish — one we’d run out of hours ago.
Keiko stood firm, bowing slightly, apologizing, calmly explaining the situation.
“I’m very sorry, sir. Due to high demand, we’ve sold out of that item for the evening. If you’d like, I can recommend a similar dish for you.”
The man’s voice rose again. “We came all the way here for that, you know! What kind of restaurant doesn’t prepare enough for Christmas Eve?!”
I clenched my fists. God, people could be such assholes.
But Keiko — she didn’t flinch. She kept her tone soft and professional, never losing composure, even when they finally huffed and ordered something else with obvious annoyance.
I swear, if it had been me, I might shouted back already.
I watched her walk back to the counter, jotting something on her notepad. Her shoulders sagged for a moment, exhaustion flickering across her face. But then she straightened, pulling that tired but unbroken smile back into place.
I felt my chest tighten.
Goddamn… I admired her so much.
By the time we closed up shop, it was nearly 1 a.m. The streets were empty, snow gently falling in the glow of the streetlights. Inside, we exchanged exhausted Christmas greetings.
“Merry Christmas… or whatever…” Aki yawned.
“Merry… something…” Ruka murmured, practically sleepwalking as she grabbed her coat.
Miko gave me a sleepy thumbs up. “Good job today, Ryuko.”
We left the restaurant together, our breath visible in the icy air. I walked alongside Keiko, both of us too drained to talk much. The city was so quiet now, just the crunch of snow beneath our shoes.
“You handled those customers really well,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “I don’t know how you keep so calm, even when you're really exhausted.”
Keiko didn’t answer right away, but I saw her eyes crinkle, a tiny smile hidden beneath her scarf.
I grinned.
“Let’s work hard tomorrow too!” I shouted suddenly, pumping my fist into the air.
Keiko jumped slightly, startled.
“Geez, Ryusei!” she laughed softly, shaking her head.
I chuckled, then without thinking, reached out and grabbed her hand. Her gloved fingers slipped easily into mine, our hands intertwining naturally as we walked.
Neither of us spoke, but neither of us let go either.
And in that quiet, snow-dusted street, just for a moment… I felt like maybe this Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.