Chapter Twenty Two - One Step at a Time

Elias had barely slept.

Not because of nightmares, not even because of magic, but because his brain wouldn't shut up.

There was too much to think about.

The memory recipes.The expansion plans.The fact that his bakery just projected a forgotten moment from his parents' past like a film reel.And now, Lark.

Elias didn't know what they were, exactly—an omen? A warning? Just another stray drawn to the bakery's warmth?—but they had left behind something heavier than words.

"This bakery remembers more than you do."

That shouldn't have been possible. And yet, it made too much sense.

Elias leaned against the counter, massaging his temples as the smell of proofing dough filled the air. He needed to breathe.

The bell jingled.

Elias straightened automatically. Not ready for another mystery. Not today.

But it wasn't Lark. It wasn't even Mira.

It was Kobayashi.

The old man stepped inside, arms crossed, gaze flicking over Elias like he was already diagnosing him.

"You look like hell."

Elias sighed. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"That's because it's true," Kobayashi grumbled. He glanced at the prep table, where unfinished dough sat waiting. "When was the last time you sat down?"

Elias hesitated.

Kobayashi scoffed. "That's what I thought."

Before Elias could protest, the older man turned on his heel. "Come on."

Elias frowned. "Come where?"

"Lunch."

"I'm busy."

Kobayashi gave him a flat look. "Your dough can wait. Your brain can't."

Elias sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could argue, but what was the point? Kobayashi would win. He always did.

So, without another word, he untied his apron, set it aside, and followed the older man out of the bakery.

The ramen shop was quieter than usual, the lunch rush still an hour away. The scent of simmering broth filled the air—deep, rich, familiar. It smelled like home in a way Elias hadn't let himself acknowledge in a long time.

Kobayashi walked behind the counter and gestured to the usual seat. Elias took it, resting his arms on the counter, finally still for the first time today.

"What do you want?" Kobayashi asked, already tying his apron.

Elias thought for a moment. He usually just ate whatever Kobayashi put in front of him, but this time… he wanted something grounding. Something warm enough to push away the weight in his chest.

"Shoyu ramen," Elias murmured. "Extra egg."

Kobayashi smirked. "You got it."

The older man moved with practiced ease, ladling out the dark soy-based broth, arranging the noodles just right. The sound of bubbling soup, the sizzle of pan-fried gyoza—it was a rhythm Elias had grown up with, one that always felt steady even when everything else seemed uncertain.

Kobayashi didn't talk while he cooked. He never did. He let the food do the talking.

After a few minutes, a steaming bowl of ramen was placed in front of Elias, along with a small side plate of golden-brown gyoza. The soft-boiled egg glistened in the broth, the aroma of garlic and scallions rising with the steam.

Elias stared at it for a moment before murmuring, "Thanks."

Kobayashi grunted, leaning against the counter. "Don't overthink it, kid."

Elias glanced up.

Kobayashi wasn't looking at him, just cleaning his knife with slow, deliberate motions.

"If it's too much, come here," the older man said simply. "Eat. Breathe. Nobody's asking you to carry the world alone."

Elias swallowed hard, the words hitting him deeper than he expected.

He picked up his chopsticks and took the first bite.

The broth was rich, salty in the way that warmed his chest. The noodles were springy, the yolk of the egg soft and golden. He chewed slowly, feeling some of the tension unravel from his shoulders.

The gyoza was crispy on the outside, juicy inside, a perfect balance of garlic and pork. He chewed, exhaled.

For the first time all day, Elias felt like he could breathe again.

Kobayashi didn't say anything else.

He didn't need to.

-

The next morning, Elias walked into the bakery feeling… better.

Not fixed. Not suddenly free of stress.

But clearer.

He rolled up his sleeves, flipping open his notebook. One step at a time.

Hikari was already inside, wiping down the display case with enthusiasm that should not exist this early.

Elias placed his notebook on the counter, tapping the cover.

"Alright," he announced. "Before we even touch renovation plans, we need to settle the menu."

Hikari froze mid-wipe, her eyes practically sparkling. "Does that mean—?"

"Yeah," Elias muttered. "It's time to pick the new flavors."

Before he could say anything else, there was a loud clatter from the doorway.

Elias and Hikari both turned.

Mira stood there, half-in, half-out of the bakery, holding a half-eaten melon pan and a plastic convenience store coffee. Her expression was somewhere between betrayal and glee.

"Well, well, well," she said, taking a dramatic bite of her bread. "Look who's suddenly interested in menu expansion."

Elias blinked. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you finally admit I was right." Mira stepped inside, slamming her coffee down on the counter. "This is a historic moment. Hold on, I need to take a picture."

"Don't you dare," Elias warned.

Mira cackled but put her phone away. "Relax, I already handled this." She whipped out her phone anyway, pulling up something on the screen. "While you were busy having an existential crisis, I ran a poll."

Elias sighed. "Of course you did."

She spun the phone toward him.

The New Five "Normal" Cookies:

1. Earl Grey & White Chocolate – a softer, delicate option for tea lovers.

2. Brown Butter & Sea Salt – a simple but addictive classic.

3. Double Chocolate Espresso – for the coffee addicts.

4. Cranberry & Pistachio – slightly tart, slightly nutty, slightly elegant.

5. Honey Almond – soft, chewy, comforting.

Hikari clapped her hands. "They all sound delicious!"

Elias tapped his fingers against the counter. "I don't hate it."

Mira rolled her eyes. "That's the highest praise I'll get from you, huh?"

"Maybe," Elias said, already flipping open his notebook. 

But even as he noted down the flavors, something nagged at him.

A menu refresh was good. It was necessary. But was it enough?

His gaze drifted toward the front window. From here, he could see the bakery's entrance—the uneven lettering on the old wooden sign, the way the colors had faded with time.

It had never stood out. Not really.

Maybe that was part of the reason people never noticed Moonlight Crumbs before it blew up online.

Two days later, the new menu was finalized.

And the first real change began.

Elias stood outside Moonlight Crumbs, staring up at the slightly crooked sign that had been there since the beginning.

Kobayashi had painted it himself. Elias remembered watching him, years ago—watching the careful way he brushed each stroke, muttering about how Elias' parents had asked for something 'simple, but welcoming.'

The edges of the wood were worn. The paint had chipped. It had never been perfect.

But it had been home.

He took a breath. His hands twitched at his sides.

"You okay?" Mira asked, nudging him with her elbow.

Elias didn't answer right away. He just kept staring at the sign, his throat tight.

Mira actually stayed quiet. She got it.

After a moment, Elias exhaled. "This was the first thing that made the bakery feel real to me."

Kobayashi, who had been standing off to the side (didn't know when he arrived there), crossed his arms. "Your parents asked me to make that sign before they even had customers," he said, his voice gruff but soft. "It was just a dream back then."

Elias swallowed hard.

"It served its time," Kobayashi continued. "Now it's time for something that fits what the place is now."

Hikari looked between them, voice soft. "What are you going to replace it with?"

Elias exhaled slowly, then glanced at Mira. "You said before that you had an artist friend—did they send any designs already?"

Mira pulled out her phone, scrolling. "Yup. Three options. I made them do a mix of classic and modern, since I know you're allergic to anything too flashy."

She held up the screen.

Elias frowned, studying the samples carefully.

They were… nice. Warm colors, simple brushstrokes, something that felt inviting rather than overdone.

Something that still felt like Moonlight Crumbs.

Hikari peered over his shoulder. "Oh! That one's really cute!" She pointed to the second option—a soft wood-toned background, slightly vintage but with clear lettering, a small flour-dusted crescent moon painted beside the name.

Elias swallowed. It felt right.

"…Yeah." He nodded. "That one."

Mira clapped her hands together. "Great. I'll tell them to start."

Elias' fingers curled slightly.

And then, finally—he stepped forward and carefully, gently, took the old sign down.

For a second, he could hear his parents' voices in the back of his mind.

"This will be a place where people can rest, Elias. Where they can come in out of the cold."

His grip tightened on the sign.

He ran his fingers over the wood one last time, then—slowly, purposefully—set it down.

Silence settled around them.

Mira cleared her throat. "Well. End of an era."

Kobayashi huffed. "Don't get dramatic."

Mira smirked. "Oh, please. You're the one who painted it."

Elias snorted softly.