THE CHAOS
The kitchen became a war zone.
"Three orders of stew!"
"Where's the bread?!"
"Table seven's been waiting ten minutes!"
I didn't think.
I just moved.
I grabbed a slab of meat from cold storage and slapped it onto the cutting board. My hands took over—muscle memory from my old world.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Clean cuts. Even portions. No waste.
"Buddy!" Anya's voice sliced through the noise. "Vegetables! Now, nya!"
I was already moving.
Carrots. Onions. Potatoes. The knife became an extension of my hand.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Fast. Precise. Professional.
Runova shot me a look while stirring a pot. "Where'd you learn to cut like that?"
"Butcher shop!" I yelled back without stopping.
"Good!" She shoved a tray at me. "Keep going!"
Chloe zipped past, scooped up the prepped vegetables, dumped them into three different pots without breaking stride. "You're hired nya!"
"I'm not—"
"Too late!"
Anya popped up beside me, eyes wide. "You weren't kidding about the butcher thing, nya."
"Why would I lie?!"
"I don't know! People lie, nya!" She grabbed a finished plate. "You're actually useful, nya!"
"Thanks?!"
"That's a compliment, nya!"
The orders kept coming.
My hands kept moving.
Meat.
Vegetables.
Prep.
Plate.
Repeat.
The rhythm took over. The noise blurred into background static. There was only the board, the knife, and the next cut.
This… actually feels good.
"BUDDY!"
I looked up.
Anya tossed me a towel. I caught it, wiped my face—and realized I was drenched in sweat.
"How long have I been—"
"Twenty minutes, nya!"
What.
I glanced around the prep station.
Mountains of perfectly cut vegetables. Dozens of portioned cuts of meat. Everything neat. Everything ready.
Runova was staring at me.
Chloe was staring at me.
Even Ryuu had paused mid-stir.
Anya grinned, tail swishing. "Told you, nya."
"I came here to eat—"
"And you will, nya!" Anya grabbed my shoulder. "After we survive this!"
A crash from the dining room.
"ORDER UP!" Runova shouted.
"MOVE MOVE MOVE!"
We moved.
The crowd died down. Orders started to slow down. slowly.
Mama mia
The entire kitchen went silent.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Mid-laugh. Mid-sentence.
Frozen.
I felt it before I saw it—the air shifted, heavy and cold, like the temperature dropped ten degrees.
Anya's ears flattened.
Chloe's smile tightened.
Runova straightened.
Even Ryuu's hand paused on the ladle.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Heavy.
The back door swung open.
Mama Mia stood in the doorway; arms loaded with crates of vegetables and sacks of supplies.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Arms crossed. Her eyes swept the kitchen like a general inspecting a battlefield.
The scorched ceiling.
The overturned pot.
The soot stains.
The chaos.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
She inhaled slowly through her nose.
"…Where's Syr?"
Silence.
Anya's tail tucked between her legs.
Mama Mia's eyes narrowed.
"Where. Is. Syr."
"She left! Said she had matters to attend Nya!" Chloe squeaked.
Mama Mia's jaw tightened.
"Ryuu. Hunt her down."
Ryuu vanished out the back door. No hesitation.
Mama Mia looked up at the ceiling again.
Then back to us.
"…And why the hell," she said slowly, "is he here?"
Every head turned toward me.
Oh no.
I stood there, knife still in hand. Covered in sweat, vegetable scraps, and what was almost definitely soup.
Mama Mia's eyes locked onto mine.
I felt my soul exit my body.
"I—uh—"
Anya blurted, "He helped! We were short-staffed, Nya!"
Mama Mia walked over.
Her eyes swept across the prep station—the mountains of perfectly cut vegetables, the neat portions of meat, everything organized and ready.
She paused, then clicked her tongue.
Then turned to Anya.
"Pay him."
"Already did! All-you-can-eat meal, Nya!"
Mama Mia nodded once.
Looked back at me.
"You."
"Y-yes?"
"Clean the ceiling."
"…Yes, ma'am."
She turned toward the door.
Paused.
Looked back once more.
"…Good work."
The door shut.
The kitchen exhaled as one.
I slumped against the counter.
Anya patted my shoulder. "See? She likes you, Nya."
"That was her liking me?!"
"You're still alive, aren't you, Nya?"
"THAT'S THE BAR?!"
Runova laughed.
Chloe giggled.
Anya grinned.
"Welcome to the Hostess of Fertility, Nya."
THE ROOFTOP
Three Blocks Away
The wind cut cold at this height.
A small figure stood on the edge of a rooftop, a silver spear resting against his shoulder. Black cat ears twitched, catching every sound below.
Sharp blue eyes locked onto the tavern.
On a single figure inside.
His grip tightened on the spear.
"Who the hell are you?"
A low snarl curled his lips.
Didn't matter.
The spear caught the moonlight as his emerald cloak shifted in the wind.
He stepped forward—
—and vanished into the night.