Chapter Twenty One - The Visitor Who Shouldn’t Know

The morning light streamed through the bakery windows, casting long shadows across the countertop. The shop wasn't even officially open yet, but Elias was already elbow-deep in flour, shaping dough with more force than necessary. His movements were fast, precise — like if he stopped, his mind would catch up with him. And he didn't want that.

Hikari stood at the prep table, eyes narrowed in concentration as she piped custard into the melon bread shells. She still wasn't perfect — the piping bag trembled slightly in her hands — but her focus was real. That was one thing about Hikari: even when she was a mess, she tried.

Mira hadn't shown up yet. Probably still sleeping off some late-night snack run with Kobayashi. That was fine — Elias needed the quiet.

Because his head was full.

It had only been a day since they found the hidden drawer. One day since they uncovered the forbidden recipes — the ones his parents never meant for him to see. And now, there was a growing list of things Elias had to deal with:

The bakery renovation. Training Hikari so she didn't set the place on fire. Managing the unexpected flood of new customers after the viral post. Figuring out why his parents hid those recipes in the first place. Deciding what to do with the thirteenth recipe — the one that felt like a curse just from the way it was written.

Elias exhaled sharply, slamming his palm into the dough."It's too much."

He'd left his corporate job for this — for peace, for simplicity, for nights spent baking quietly until the stars faded. Now? His little bakery was a storm of secrets and a future too big for him to hold.

He wasn't ready for this.

And yet… it wasn't stopping. The bakery kept moving forward, with or without him.

The bell jingled.

Elias glanced up, fully expecting Mira's chaotic entrance — but instead, someone else stood in the doorway.

A figure in a bright yellow raincoat, even though the sky outside was clear and blue. Black hair chopped unevenly, falling across sharp, almost too-bright eyes. They stood there like they belonged, like they knew exactly where they were — and yet Elias had never seen them before.

Hikari froze mid-piping. "Uh… we're not open yet—"

The stranger's smile split wide. "That's okay. I'm not here to buy anything."

Their voice was light, cheerful — but the air around them felt wrong. Not bad, just… off. Like a note played slightly out of tune.

Elias wiped his hands on his apron. "Then… why are you here?"

The stranger stepped forward, boots making no sound at all on the old wooden floor. They stopped at the display case, staring at the cookies like they were seeing something else entirely.

"I came to see if you found the book," they said, voice soft, almost playful. "The one your parents hid."

Elias' heart stopped.

Hikari's head snapped toward him. "Sensei— how do they know about that?"

Elias had no answer.

"Who are you?" Elias asked, voice tighter than he meant.

The stranger tapped the glass case with one finger. "Lark. And you're Elias Greywood — son of the bakers who tried to bake feelings into flour. Nice to meet you."

Elias felt his stomach drop.

No one outside the bakery should know about that.Even he barely understood it.

Lark's gaze drifted to the countertop where the latest batch of cookies cooled — the Nostalgia Cookies, the recipe Elias had inherited without even realizing it. Lark's fingers brushed the edge of the tray, and the second they did—

The bakery inhaled.

Not literally, but Elias felt it. The air thickened, the scent of butter and sugar folding into something sharper — burnt edges, smoke, the memory of something wrong.

The windows fogged, even though the air outside was clear.

Hikari stepped back. "What's happening?"

Lark didn't seem surprised at all. They just smiled, eyes glinting like they'd expected this.

Elias barely had time to react before a memory flickered to life — not in his mind, but in the air itself, like the bakery was projecting it onto the walls.

The machiya kitchen, years ago. His mother's hands, younger, stronger, moving through dough. His father beside her, scribbling notes too fast, flour on his glasses. They were laughing, but there was an edge to it — a frantic kind of joy, the kind that comes from standing too close to something dangerous and pretending you're not afraid.

The scene stuttered, like an old tape skipping, then cut off entirely — the bakery's light returning to normal, the air losing its weight.

Elias staggered back, heart hammering.

"What the hell was that?" Mira's voice came from the doorway — she had just walked in, paper bag of gyoza clutched in one hand, eyes wide with confusion.

Lark turned to her, grin still in place. "Don't mind me. Just testing a theory."

"What theory?" Elias demanded, still breathless.

"That this bakery remembers more than you do." Lark's head tilted slightly, like a bird watching something crawl across the ground. "And it wants to show you."

Mira slammed the door shut behind her. "Okay, no offense, but who the hell are you and why do you look like you escaped a haunted carnival?"

Lark's smile stretched even wider. "Delivery person. Sometimes. Magic enthusiast. Always." They turned to Elias. "See you soon, Cookie Wizard."

Then, just like that — they were gone, leaving nothing but the faintest scent of wet earth and lemon peel hanging in the air.

The silence that followed was too loud.

"What was that?" Hikari whispered, voice small.

Elias sat down hard on the nearest stool, burying his face in his hands.

"It's too much," he muttered. "The recipes. The expansion. The customers. My parents' secrets. Now this?"

He lifted his head, eyes red but determined.

"Every time I think I understand what this bakery is… it changes. I left my old job to get away from pressure like this — and now it's like the bakery itself has expectations."

He let out a sharp laugh, one that didn't sound happy at all.

"Except this time, it's not corporate deadlines. It's magic family secrets and a weirdo in a raincoat who knows too much."

Mira, for once, didn't have a sarcastic comeback.

She just set down the gyoza bag beside him and nudged it closer.

"Eat," she said softly. "You'll think clearer with carbs."

Elias took a deep breath, rubbed his face with both hands, and picked up a dumpling.

The bakery was quiet again — but not the same kind of quiet as before.

This was a waiting quiet.

As if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for Elias' next step.