Chapter Seven - Ramen, Gossip, and a Late-Night Visit

The evening rush at Kobayashi's ramen shop was in full swing — broth bubbling, chopsticks clattering, the sharp scent of soy and garlic weaving through the air like a second language.

Kobayashi moved without thinking, hands working in rhythms older than memory. Bowl, broth, noodles, ladle — the dance he'd done every night for thirty years. But tonight, something kept pulling his attention.

Through the narrow window, across the alley, the bell above Moonlight Crumbs jingled — again.

Kobayashi paused, brow furrowing. That was the fourth customer in twenty minutes. Unheard of for Elias' quiet little bakery.

"What's going on with that bakery?" he muttered to no one in particular.

"Ah, you haven't heard?"The voice came from a salaryman perched at the counter, halfway through his bowl of shoyu ramen. "My daughter showed me. There's this Instagram post — some girl called it 'the ghost cookie place.' Said the cookies taste like your feelings."

Kobayashi nearly dropped the ladle. "Ghost cookies?"

The man laughed into his broth. "Something like that. You know how it is — one weird post and suddenly everyone's curious."

Kobayashi grunted, pretending not to care — but the knot in his chest, the one that had been quietly tightening since Elias first opened that shop, loosened just a bit.

He finished serving, waved off his regulars with his usual gruff "See you next time," and made up his mind.

Once the shop closed, he was going to check on that kid.

It was just past 1:30 AM when Kobayashi crossed the alley, sleeves pushed up, apron still smelling faintly of broth and garlic. Moonlight Crumbs glowed softly, the warm light spilling out onto the pavement like a quiet invitation.

He knocked twice — out of habit — and stepped inside.

Elias stood behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, wiping down the display case. His hair was a mess, more flour than hair, and his eyes carried the particular weight of someone who'd been too busy to think all night.

"You're still up?" Elias blinked. "I thought you closed hours ago."

Kobayashi snorted. "You think I wouldn't notice? People slipping in and out of your shop all night — I had to see what kind of nonsense you've gotten yourself into."

Elias' ears went slightly pink. "It's Mira's fault. She posted something, and now…" He gestured vaguely toward the door, like the explanation was too ridiculous to put into words.

"Ghost cookies." Kobayashi's mouth twitched. "That what you're selling now?"

Elias groaned, scrubbing his face with both hands. "I didn't call them that. She just… Mira has her own way of describing things."

Kobayashi leaned against the counter, elbows braced on the worn wood. "Whatever works. Curiosity fills seats — and display cases."

Elias didn't answer right away, but his shoulders dropped half an inch, like someone had just eased off the invisible weight he always carried. It felt strangely normal, having Kobayashi here — like the bakery had always been part of the ramen shop's world, instead of something Elias had built alone.

"Business is still slow," Elias admitted quietly. "But it's better."

Kobayashi nodded. "Good. But don't forget — you're not just baking for yourself anymore."

Elias frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"People are starting to notice this place," Kobayashi said. "That's not just pressure — it's a chance. Make it something they remember. Something they come back to, even when they're not sure why."

Elias swallowed, unsure if that was comforting or terrifying.

Kobayashi clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, the warmth grounding him like an anchor. "One step at a time, kid. Now — got any of those ghost cookies left? I'm curious too."

Elias laughed — a small, startled sound — and the tension cracked, like flour dust settling back onto the counter.

"I'll get you some," he said, disappearing into the back.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe — just maybe — the bakery was part of the neighborhood after all.