Chapter Sixteen - The Cookie

The world blinked back into place like someone flipped a switch.

Elias' hands were still dusted with silver crumbs, and Hikari's fingers were clenched tightly around his sleeve. The warmth of the memory — his mother's laughter, the sunlight in her hair — dissolved into the cold kitchen air of Moonlight Crumbs.

The two of them stared at each other, wide-eyed and breathless.

"What… was that?" Hikari whispered, voice still shaking.

"I don't know," Elias admitted. His voice was hoarse, like he'd been holding his breath for too long. "But I think… I think we really saw the past."

Neither of them moved for a second. Then Hikari slowly stepped back, looking around the bakery like she expected ghosts to start crawling out of the flour bags.

"Is the bakery haunted?" she asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Elias didn't answer, because part of him wasn't sure anymore.

The bell above the front door slammed open so violently it sounded like a murder scene.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU TWO?!"

Mira's voice cracked the silence like thunder—a voice loud enough to scare flour off the shelves. Hikari actually yelped, nearly tripping over her own feet, while Elias winced so hard his shoulders hit his ears.

Before either of them could explain, Mira was already storming inside, her scarf half-untied and her hair sticking up on one side like she'd been stress-dragging her hands through it.

"Do you have ANY idea how long I was out there?!" Mira shouted, flailing her arms so wildly she knocked over a cup of chopsticks that had been left on the counter. "I thought you got kidnapped by bread demons! I thought the flour finally turned on you! I thought—"

She froze mid-rant, her eyes locking onto the half-empty tray of strange silver cookies.

"What the hell is that." Her voice dropped an octave. "And why is it glowing."

"It's not glowing anymore," Elias muttered.

"Don't change the subject!" Mira jabbed a finger toward him. "Where were you?!"

"We didn't go anywhere," Elias said, his own confusion creeping into his voice. "We were here the whole time."

"No, you weren't." Mira's voice was sharp now. "I've been outside for almost an hour. I came to get you for ramen, and the whole place was empty—like, haunted house empty. No footprints, no sound, nothing."

Elias' stomach flipped.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost 1:30 AM.

The memory cookie? It only felt like a few minutes to them. But to Mira—time had kept going.

"We… we baked something," Hikari said, her voice small. "It was from the old recipe book."

"old recipe book?" Mira's hands shot to her hips. 

"Mira, it was my parents recipe book. they write it by themself and-"

"I knew it! I knew that dusty haunted bakery bible was bad news."

"It wasn't like that." Elias shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "It was just… a cookie."

"Just a cookie?! That made you both vanish into thin air?!" Mira's voice hit a whole new pitch.

Elias didn't have an answer for that. Because, really, what could he say? He could barely explain it to himself.

Mira slumped onto a stool, all the fight draining out of her at once. She held her head in both hands, elbows on the counter, breathing hard like she'd just run a marathon fueled entirely by panic and soda.

"I thought you were dead," she mumbled.

Elias blinked. "What?"

"I thought—" Mira's voice cracked, softer now, the anger melting into something else. "I thought I lost you. Both of you. I was sitting out there trying to decide if I should call the police, or Kobayashi, or like… a priest."

Elias' throat tightened. Mira rarely got genuine with him like this. Their friendship was built on sarcasm and shoving cookies into her hands to shut her up. But this? This was her showing her hand.

She cared. A lot.

"Sorry," Elias said quietly.

Mira waved a hand weakly. "Don't do that. Apologizing makes it worse."

For a second, none of them spoke.

The air still smelled faintly of honey and burnt sugar, and the memory of that warm kitchen—the past they'd stepped into—still clung to Elias' skin like flour dust.

Hikari shifted beside him, guilt written all over her face. "I'm sorry too… it was my idea to look at the old recipes."

Mira groaned into her hands. "Of course it was. You gremlin."

Hikari looked ready to apologize again, but Mira cut her off by reaching across the counter and grabbing one of the silver cookies.

"Mira—wait!" Elias' hand shot out, but Mira already took a bite.

The moment she did, her expression twisted into instant regret.

"WHY DOES IT TASTE LIKE CRYING?!" she yelled, spitting crumbs into a napkin. "WHY DOES THIS COOKIE HAVE EMOTIONAL TRAUMA?!"

Hikari's eyes widened. "You tasted something?"

"I tasted all my breakups at once!" Mira slammed the cookie down on the counter like it had personally insulted her. "What the hell kind of cursed baking are you two doing?!"

Elias couldn't stop himself — he started laughing. Hard. It was the kind of laugh you only get after a near-death experience, or after your best friend panics so badly they eat a haunted cookie out of sheer frustration.

Hikari started giggling too, half from nerves, half because Mira's dramatics were impossible not to laugh at.

"Oh my god, you two are evil," Mira groaned, head dropping onto the counter. "I need ramen and therapy. And probably an exorcist."

"We still up for ramen?" Elias asked, wiping flour off his hands.

Mira lifted her head just enough to glare. "I almost died from anxiety, and you want to know if I still want noodles?"

Elias just stared.

"…Yeah, of course I want ramen," Mira muttered, grabbing her bag. "But you're explaining everything while we eat."

Elias glanced at Hikari, who nodded quickly. "Deal."

The three of them stepped out into the alley, the bakery lights dimming behind them. The silver cookies still sat on the counter, their glow faded, but the air inside Moonlight Crumbs felt different now.

The bakery had let something out. And Elias knew this wasn't over.

Not even close.