Chapter 137: A Kiss in the Afternoon
A week had passed since we visited the newborn, and just like that, October drifted toward its quiet middle. The days grew colder, and so did the air between our moments of peace. But strangely, nothing ridiculous had happened over the past week—thank God. No chaos, no unnecessary drama. Just the ordinary rush of work.
I had slowly become used to the rhythm of our daily lives. The long hours on my feet, the sound of knives chopping, orders being shouted across the kitchen, the whirl of dishwashers—it was exhausting. But fulfilling.
Every single day, as I wiped sweat from my brow and scrubbed the sink, I felt more alive. More grounded.
Sometimes, I’d find myself quietly wondering: What the hell was I doing back then when I was still Ryusei? At this same age, I was barely getting by. Drowning in my own pride. Ruined by my own ego and forgot the person I was supposed to protect the most—Keiko and Rin.
And now? She saved me. Keiko saved me when I didn't even realize how lost I was. If she hadn't hired me, if she hadn’t given me a second chance, I would've sunk into trash again. She reached out her hand and dragged me back to light.
As I sat by myself on a crate in the small backyard behind the restaurant during our afternoon break, those thoughts clung to my chest like fog. I didn’t even realize I was frowning deeply until—
Poke.
I jolted. "Arghhh!" I let out a shriek, nearly falling off the crate.
“Shhh! Why are you screaming?” Keiko whispered, eyes wide.
My heart was pounding as I gasped for air, trying to calm down. “I... I didn’t know you were there! You poked me out of nowhere!” I sat up straight, immediately pulling my hoodie over my head in embarrassment, hiding my face like a turtle into its shell.
Keiko chuckled, leaning casually against the doorway. “Well… you were making this weird face. I just wanted to know what you were thinking.”
I turned away, still hiding under my hoodie. “Nothing important. I was just… getting some air.”
It was true, in a way. I didn’t know how to explain that my thoughts were heavy—too heavy for a simple break. That just seeing her face reminded me of how far I’d come and how far I still wanted to go. For her. For us.
Keiko stepped back, about to return inside. “Alright. Let me know if you need something, okay?”
I looked around. The small yard was quiet. No staff. No one passing by. Just us. The rustling of dried leaves was the only sound in the stillness.
“Wait,” I called out.
She paused, turning her head.
I stood up slowly, took a few steps forward—and without thinking too hard—I wrapped my arms gently around her from behind. “I need your help.”
She froze. “Eh?”
In a flash, Keiko panicked and shoved me away. “Gahh!”
I stumbled, landing on the concrete with a sharp sting across my arm. “Ow…!”
She gasped. “S-Sorry! Are you okay?! W-What are you doing?! You scared me!”
I winced, looking down at the small scrape, but I smiled anyway. “I didn’t mean to scare you… I just… wanted to show you how I feel.”
Her face turned crimson. Her lips parted like she wanted to scold me again, but then she looked down and bit them instead.
“We’re… at work, you idiot,” she muttered.
“I know, but I checked. No one’s around.” I slowly got up, walking toward the door and turning the lock with a small click. “There. Now no one will interrupt.”
Keiko folded her arms, still visibly flustered. “You’re so reckless.”
“You’re the one who told me to tell you when I need something,” I grinned.
“That’s… That’s not what I meant,” she mumbled.
I leaned in slightly. “Then I’ll show you what I meant.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait, what are you—”
I took a deep breath. “Kiss me.”
She blinked rapidly. “Wh-What?”
“I want a kiss,” I said, plain and soft. “That’s what I need right now.”
Her whole body tensed. “You’re such a handful…” she muttered, but her voice had lost its bite. She sighed heavily, then stepped closer.
I closed my eyes, my heartbeat drumming like crazy in my chest.
Then—softly—her lips brushed mine. Gentle. Careful. Her warmth melted into me like sunlight peeking through storm clouds. But it was too short.
As she pulled back, I opened my eyes and caught her expression—shy, slightly out of breath, trying to play it cool. I didn’t let her go.
In a swift movement, I turned around and pressed her back against the closed door, catching her by surprise. She gasped softly—but before she could speak, I kissed her again.
This time, deeper.
Longer.
I kissed her like I needed her breath to live. My hand cupped her cheek as I leaned in, and she didn't resist. Her hands found their way around my waist, gripping onto me tightly.
The world around us faded. The kitchen sounds, the city outside, the weight of work—gone.
It was just her lips, her heartbeat thudding against mine.
When we finally pulled apart, her breathing was unsteady. Her cheeks were bright red. She looked dazed. Her eyes locked onto mine, trying to make sense of the rush.
I smiled. A real, wide, grateful smile.
“Thank you for saving me… Keiko,” I whispered near her ear. “I love you.”
She didn’t respond immediately. Her mouth opened slightly, but her voice caught in her throat.
So I leaned back and teased gently, “You look like jellies.”
Her eyebrows twitched. “J-Jellies?”
I laughed. “Your legs. They’re wobbling like jelly.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, turning her face away, but I saw the corner of her lips curling into a smile. “You’re so annoying when you’re like this.”
“You love it,” I said, bumping her shoulder.
She sighed dramatically. “I really should fire you…”
“You’d miss me too much.”
We both stood in silence after that. A peaceful silence. Her fingers brushed against mine, hesitant, but they lingered—like she didn’t want to let go just yet.
And neither did I.
For a long time, I thought I had to fight the world alone. I thought strength was about standing tall without leaning on anyone. But being with Keiko taught me something else.
Strength is choosing to stay. Choosing to ask for help when you need it. Choosing love, even when you feel like you don’t deserve it.
This kiss, this moment, in the middle of a quiet restaurant backyard—it was enough.