I woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, my new body feeling surprisingly refreshed. The clock read 7:00 AM, and for the first time in years, I felt oddly light. My back didn't ache, my joints weren't stiff—this body was something else. It was young, nimble, and dare I say, athletic.
I stretched and glanced at my reflection in the small mirror by Junpei's bedroom door. My breath hitched as I examined my reflection more closely. This face… it was still strange to see myself like this. The youthful, feminine features staring back at me were a far cry from the tired, rugged face of a 34-year-old man I had grown used to. How old do I even look now? Twenty? Maybe younger?
The realization hit me like a truck. I look around the same age as Rin. My daughter. The thought nagged at me until I decided to ask Junpei.
"Hey, Junpei!" I shouted, still trying to process everything.
"What is it now?" came Junpei's groggy reply from the living room.
I stormed out of the room and stood before him, hands on my hips, glaring at his indifferent face. "What do you think my age is now?"
Junpei blinked at me, his expression blank. "You're 34, obviously. Did you hit your head or something?"
I groaned, exasperated. "No, you idiot! I mean how old do I look?"
Junpei squinted, pretending to scrutinize me. "Hmm... still 34 to me."
He burst into laughter, slapping his knee like it was the funniest joke in the world. I rolled my eyes, already regretting asking him. "Forget it," I muttered.
Junpei grabbed his jacket, still grinning. "Anyway, I'm off to work. Don't burn the place down, and seriously, find a job. I'm not running a free hostel for teenage girls."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, waving him off.
---
After pacing around the apartment for an hour, I decided to take a walk. Fresh air might help me clear my head—and maybe even spark an idea about what kind of work I could do now.
The streets were bustling with people rushing to their destinations. Cafes were crowded with office workers grabbing quick breakfasts, while shops prepared for the day ahead.
What am I even supposed to do now? My old jobs required physical labor, the kind of work no one would hire someone who looked like a 17-year-old girl for. And what would Keiko and Rin think? Keiko probably thought I'd abandoned them—again.
By late afternoon, I was exhausted, my legs aching from walking aimlessly. Just as I was about to head back to Junpei's, a rich, savory aroma stopped me in my tracks. My stomach growled involuntarily.
The smell was warm, inviting, and oddly familiar. I followed it to a small restaurant tucked into a corner of the street. The sign above the door read: Manna's Kitchen.
Something about the name tugged at my memory, but I couldn't quite place it. The restaurant was small but bustling with customers, the sound of laughter and clinking dishes spilling out onto the street.
A handwritten sign caught my eye: "URGENT HIRING: Waitstaff Needed."
I hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. This is it.
I stepped inside, and a young waitress greeted me with a warm smile. "Welcome! Table for one?"
"Actually, I'm here about the job," I said, pointing to the sign outside.
Her face lit up. "Oh, great! We're short-staffed. Please wait in the staff room while I get the manager."
I followed her to a small room in the back and sat down, trying to steady my nerves. What if they ask for references? Or an ID? What do I even say?
After a few minutes, the door opened, and a familiar voice greeted me. "Sorry to keep you waiting!"
I looked up—and froze.
Standing before me was Keiko. My Keiko.
She looked just as I remembered, her bob hair neatly tied back, her uniform crisp and spotless. She carried herself with a quiet confidence that made my chest ache with nostalgia.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. This is where she works? All the familiar feelings I'd brushed off earlier came rushing back. I should've known—Manna's Kitchen. How could I have forgotten the name of my own wife's workplace?
"Hi, I'm Keiko, the manager here," she said with a professional smile. "You're here for the waitress position, right?"
I nodded, my throat dry. "Y-Yes. I saw the sign outside."
Keiko gave me a quick once-over and smiled warmly. "You're pretty and attractive enough, so you'd be perfect for the front as a waitress."
Her compliment caught me off guard, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Did she just call me attractive?
"Let's start with some basic questions," she said, pulling out a notepad. "What's your name?"
I panicked. For a split second, I almost blurted out my real name. "My name is Ryu—"
Shit. I bit my tongue, scrambling for a save.
"Ryu?" Keiko tilted her head, curious.
"Ryuko," I said quickly, forcing a nervous laugh. "Ryuko Mugiwara."
Genius, Ryusei. Absolute genius. I congratulated myself sarcastically for stealing Junpei's last name.
Keiko frowned slightly, tapping her pen against the notepad. "Mugiwara? That sounds familiar..."
My heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yeah," I stammered, trying to sound casual. "It's a pretty common name."
She nodded and wrote it down. "Alright, Ryuko. How old are you?"
My heart skipped a beat. Crap, what do I say?
"I'm 20," I lied, keeping my voice steady.
Keiko tilted her head, studying me. "You look younger than that. Are you sure?"
I forced a laugh, trying to look confident. "Yeah, I just have one of those faces, I guess."
She seemed to accept my answer, jotting it down without further comment. "Do you have any experience working in restaurants?"
I shook my head. "No, but I'm a fast learner."
Keiko smiled. "That's okay. We're really short-staffed right now, so we're willing to train new employees. Please fill out all of these forms with your information for the contract."
Her words were like a lifeline. I felt the tension in my shoulders ease, just a little. Luckily, I had already bought another number to use as Ryuko.
Keiko sat across from me with her usual no-nonsense expression, flipping through my application form. Then, she glanced up and asked, "Ryuko, do you have your ID with you?"
I stiffened for a split second before forcing a casual smile. "Ah… about that," I scratched the back of my head. "I, uh, kind of lost it recently."
Keiko narrowed her eyes. "You lost it?"
I nodded quickly. "Yeah! I moved in with my uncle not too long ago, and during the move, I misplaced it. I've already applied for a new one, but you know how slow the city office can be…" I trailed off, hoping she'd buy it.
She sighed, tapping her pen against the table. "So you're saying you don't have any official identification right now?"
"Temporarily! But I promise, as soon as my new one is issued, I'll bring it in," I assured her, throwing in my most convincing grin.
Keiko stared at me for a moment, then finally exhaled. "Fine. But don't take too long. You need proper documents to work here."
"Of course! You can count on me," I said enthusiastically, secretly relieved she didn't press further.
"Well," Keiko said, standing up, "we can start you on a trial shift tomorrow. Let's see how you do. Are you okay with that?"
I nodded eagerly, relief washing over me. "Yes. Thank you so much. I won't let you down."
She gave me another warm smile. "Great. Be here at 8 AM sharp tomorrow."
As I left the restaurant, I couldn't help but glance back at the sign. Manna's Kitchen. Out of all the places I could've ended up, I found my way here.
Fate? Coincidence? Or something else entirely? Whatever it was, I wasn't going to waste this chance.