Chapter Nineteen - More Than Just Cookies

"Okay, listen up," Mira said, slamming a notebook onto the table like she was about to present a corporate takeover plan.

It was the morning after the ramen shop confession, and while Elias was still processing everything Kobayashi told them, Mira had already shifted gears. Her eyes were blazing with her usual dangerous energy—the kind that meant something chaotic was about to happen.

"I already told you we need an icon," Mira continued, flipping open her notebook. "But after last night's ghost cookie incident, I realized something very important."

Hikari leaned in, curious. "What?"

Mira grinned. "We can't trust Elias to be the face of this bakery."

"Excuse me?" Elias deadpanned, glancing up from the dough he was shaping.

"No offense, Cookie Wizard, but your whole vibe is 'shy ghost haunting his own bakery.' It's cute for a viral post, but if we want people to stay invested, we need someone… more approachable."

Elias frowned. "I talk to customers."

"You scowl at customers."

"That's just my face."

"Exactly!" Mira clapped her hands together. "Which is why we need someone younger, cuter, and less emotionally constipated."

Hikari froze. "Wait… you don't mean—"

"Oh yes," Mira's grin stretched wide. "You, little gremlin."

Hikari's face turned pink. "W-wait! Me?!"

"Who else? You're adorable. You're a high school girl with dreams. People eat that up! 'High school part-timer brings chaotic charm to magical bakery'—it's perfect!"

Hikari waved her hands wildly. "But I don't know how to— I mean, I'm just— I'm not good at talking to—"

Mira leaned in, lowering her voice. "Don't worry. You just follow my plan. We start with simple posts—cute pictures of you making bread, little videos of you doing deliveries. Nothing too embarrassing. Well, maybe a little embarrassing."

Hikari still looked hesitant, but there was a tiny spark in her eyes—the thrill of doing something bigger than herself.

"But what about Elias-sensei?" Hikari glanced toward the kitchen. "Shouldn't we tell him?"

Mira's grin sharpened. "Absolutely not."

"Why?" Hikari blinked.

"Because I'm still pissed off he made me eat that cursed cookie and vanish into thin air without telling me what was happening," Mira huffed. "This is revenge marketing."

"That's… not a thing."

"It is now."

-

For the next three days, Mira and Hikari executed Operation Gremlin Idol in absolute secrecy.

Mira took photos of Hikari rolling dough, holding piping bags, even just cleaning trays with a determined expression. Each post was captioned with maximum chaotic energy, blending fake "behind-the-scenes gossip" with real updates about the bakery.

Day 1 Post:Meet Hikari, our tiny flour monster! She's the soul of Moonlight Crumbs (because our baker is too shy to have one). Come say hi after school — she might even write your name in powdered sugar if you ask nicely. #MoonlightGremlin #CookiesAndChaos

At first, Hikari panicked every time Mira posted something. But to her surprise, people loved it. Comments flooded in — people asking about her favorite cookie, wondering how old she was, even asking for baking tips.

"It's like… I'm a real bakery girl now," Hikari whispered on the second night, staring at her phone in disbelief.

"Duh," Mira grinned. "Welcome to the internet, kid."

Meanwhile, Elias was completely oblivious.

He noticed more customers than usual, but assumed it was just the ripple effect of the viral post. What he didn't realize was that some of them came specifically to meet Hikari—the awkwardly charming "bakery gremlin" they'd seen online.

Some customers stayed longer, chatting with her while they waited for their orders. One elderly couple even brought her snacks, saying they had a granddaughter her age who also loved baking.

Elias only found out when someone tried to take a selfie with her in front of the counter, and he nearly dropped an entire tray of melon bread in shock.

"What the hell is going on?" Elias whispered that night, wiping down the counter after closing.

Hikari nervously twisted her apron. "Um… Mira said not to tell you."

Elias groaned. "Of course she did."

But even Elias couldn't deny — something incredible was happening.

Every day, more people showed up.Some from the neighborhood, some from other cities, even a few who came all the way by shinkansen because they saw "the gremlin bakery" trending online.

One pregnant woman waddled in, teary-eyed, claiming she had a craving so intense she made her husband drive for two hours just to get the rosemary honey cookies.

Another customer said they'd been going through a breakup and needed to "eat something that understands heartbreak."

A university student whispered that she'd been too anxious to confess to her crush, so she needed cookies for emotional courage.

Elias stood behind the counter, hands shaking slightly, listening to story after story. Every person had a reason for being there, even if the cookies' magic wasn't written on the menu.

They came for flavor, but also for something to hold onto.Something to taste when words failed.

That night, after closing, Elias stood at the window, looking out at the crooked sign that had hung above the bakery for nearly two years.

He'd always seen the bakery as small—a hiding place, a soft corner where he could disappear from the world.

But now?

People were finding him. They were finding each other. They were leaving pieces of themselves in this place, woven between flour and sugar and late-night air.

"I want to renovate," Elias said suddenly.

Hikari, who was stacking trays, looked up. "Huh?"

"Not just renovate," Elias clarified. "I want to make it bigger. A place where people can sit. A real bakery cafe. Somewhere they can actually stay."

Hikari's eyes went wide. "Really?!"

Elias exhaled, already nervous just saying it out loud. "If people are going to come all this way, I want them to feel welcome. Not just grab a cookie and go."

Hikari clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. "That's amazing, sensei! We could have a cookie bar! And tea! And—"

Elias raised a hand. "One step at a time."

But deep down, for the first time since opening, he wasn't thinking small anymore.

He wasn't just baking to escape.

He was baking to build something.

Something worth staying for.