My Life Was Already Messed Up, So What If I’m a Girl Now?!

Today was one of those rare days where everything seemed peaceful. Aki wasn’t on shift, which meant no loud commentary or sudden chaos in the kitchen. The restaurant had been calm all day, business steady but not overwhelming. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novelfire(.)net

Now it was evening, just an hour left until closing. I leaned against the counter, stretching my shoulders and letting out a sigh of relief.

Finally, a moment to breathe.

And truth be told, I couldn’t stop smiling. Yesterday with Keiko still played on repeat in my head like a highlight reel I didn’t want to end. Every detail, every glance, every sound—it all left me walking around with this dumb grin plastered on my face. Life felt good, really good.

“Ah, what a perfect da—”

Beep beep!

My phone rang, interrupting my peaceful thought. I glanced at the screen, and just like that, my perfect mood shattered.

Junpei.

God really had a sense of humor.

I picked up anyway. “Hello! Manna’s Kitchen, may I help you?” I answered like a customer service rep, trying to amuse myself.

“Huaaaa… Ryuseiii…” Junpei’s voice cracked through the phone, full-on bawling.

He sounded like a toddler who just dropped his ice cream cone. “Don’t play witfhh mee…”

I sighed so loud Keiko probably heard it in the back. “Okay, what do you want? My shift hasn’t ended yet, you know.”

“I’m at… huftrrr… 24 Café… pleashh comeee herrre…” His sobbing was so dramatic I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

“I can’t, Junpei. I’ve got another shift after this.”

He sniffled. Then his tone shifted, half crying, half whining like a scolded uncle. “Ohhh, you’re living harder than me, man…”

“Goodbye,” I said flatly and moved to hang up.

“WAIT! Waiiitttt!!! Ryusei!” He shrieked so loud I nearly dropped my phone.

I scolded him, “Junpei, I really don’t have time for your drama right now.”

“But now you will—”

I froze. Because standing right outside the restaurant door, phone still to his ear, was Junpei. Crying. Waving at me like a kid desperate for his parent’s attention.

I hung up the call and turned my back on him, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Maybe if I ignored him long enough, he’d disappear like a bad dream.

---

No such luck.

We weren’t busy tonight, and Junpei had taken advantage of that. He practically begged Keiko, hands clasped like he was praying to the heavens, to let me sit with him.

He claimed it was “urgent matters of the heart” involving him and Ruka. Keiko, too kind for her own good, agreed. So here I was, sitting across from my uncle-slash-disaster, listening to his latest nonsense.

I sighed, massaging my temple. “Junpei, I was working. You realize that, right?”

Junpei perked up like this was part of his victory plan. “And I am still your customer.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I work at a restaurant, not as a love consultant.”

He immediately put on a pout, lowering his voice dramatically. “Please, lower your tone… You dislike me that much, huh? Remember, I was your savior back in—”

“Oh no, don’t you dare—” I slapped my palm over his mouth before he could spill something dangerous. Leaning close, I whispered, “Shut it. They don’t know about me.”

His eyes widened. I glared and mouthed, You’re my uncle, or you’re dead.

He nodded furiously like a chastised child. Finally, I removed my hand.

---

And what was this whole earth-shattering emergency about?

A spoon.

Yes. A spoon.

Junpei had gotten into a fight with Ruka because he lost a Hello Kitty spoon. Not just any spoon, mind you—apparently it was a limited edition from last year. He said it with such seriousness I thought he was talking about losing a family heirloom.

“But Ryukoo” he wailed, sniffing dramatically, “it was our first time fighting! Huhuhu…”

I rubbed my forehead. “Then just buy another spoon.”

He slammed the table, nearly knocking over the salt shaker. “It’s not that simple! That spoon was limited! Do you know how rare limited Hello Kitty spoons are!?”

Keiko glanced up from the laptop where she was doing end-of-day reports, looking mildly concerned. I gave her a small smile that said, Don’t worry, I’m fine. He’s just insane.

“Junpei,” I said slowly, “Ruka won’t stay mad at you forever because of a spoon. Just apologize to her.”

He shook his head furiously. “You don’t know Ruka like I do! If it were that simple, I wouldn’t be crying in a restaurant like this!” His voice cracked on “crying” so badly the couple at the corner table looked over.

I wanted to bury myself under the floorboards.

---

After fifteen painful minutes of listening to his sob story about the spoon (“It had a tiny pink bow engraved on the handle, A pink bow!”), I’d had enough.

“Alright, listen. It’s closing time soon. I can’t do anything for you. Buy another spoon or just grovel, your choice.” I stood up and motioned him toward the door.

He slumped like a kicked puppy. “I guess… I’ll try to find another Hello Kitty spoon…”

“That’s the spirit.” I forced a smile and bowed slightly. “Thank you for coming, sir. Please visit again.”

He sighed dramatically, dragging his feet as he headed for the exit, muttering something about “the cruelty of women and their spoons.”

I exhaled in relief as the door shut behind him. Keiko shot me a sympathetic glance and shook her head with a soft laugh. At least one of us was sane.

Of course, my day wasn’t over. We still had closing duties, and then I had a shift at the old man’s bar. My life was already exhausting enough without Junpei’s soap opera-level antics.