Chapter 154: A Chaotic Christmas Season
The restaurant was bursting with life again, the kind of busy chaos that only came around once or twice a year. Christmas and New Year’s.
The two mountains every restaurant worker had to climb no matter how tired, sick, or drained they were. The kind of season where you prayed the fryer wouldn’t explode, the reservations wouldn’t get mixed up, and that everyone somehow survived with all their sanity intact.
It was my last holiday season here. Less than two weeks left before I started my new job, and even though I kept telling myself to focus on work, I couldn’t help but feel the mix of nervousness and excitement buzzing in my chest.
I doubted myself sometimes—was I really ready for this? But whenever those thoughts got heavy, Keiko’s voice was there, calm and steady like always, telling me I could do it. That support was all I needed to keep moving.
Still, there was no time for daydreaming. The restaurant was full every night, and even laughter came out strained.
Aki and Suzuka, desperate to keep the mood light, kept singing Jingle Bells on repeat whenever there was a lull. At first it was funny, even cute. But by evening, their voices dragged like worn-out batteries, turning the cheerful Christmas tune into something that sounded more like a creepy chant.
“Oi, oi, oi…” Suzuka added halfheartedly in the background.
Instead of festive, it sounded like a funeral for Santa Claus. I silently prayed this year no one would collapse from exhaustion or catch a winter cold.
But of course, the holiday season never failed to throw in surprises.
“O ho ho ho! What gift do you want, kid?”
That was Aki, dressed in the cheapest Santa cosplay we could find. She had strapped a pillow to her stomach for the round belly, but the red suit looked more like pajamas than Santa’s coat. She was crouched down by a table, handing out little presents to the kids who came in. Parents loved it, kids loved it, and Aki was milking the role with her fake deep voice.
Then came the boy.
“I want a new mama.”
The whole table froze, and my jaw dropped the moment I heard it.
The kid added cheerfully, “A new pretty mama.”
The father burst out laughing, though he told his child not to ask for that again. The poor mother turned red, scolding the child in whispers.
Aki, frozen in place, held the present like it was a live grenade. Her Santa smile cracked instantly, her eyes wide as though she’d just seen the end of humanity.
“Uh… oh ho ho… oh ho ho…” was all she managed to mumble.
The perfect holiday family scene I was admiring seconds ago? Completely shattered.
Later, the boy said that his mom was really scary and not pretty at all when she was angry.
Then Keiko, graceful as always, stepped in. She took the gift gently from Aki’s stiff hand, crouched to the boy’s level, and said softly, “You already have a pretty mama, so we’ll give you a toy instead, okay?”
The boy blinked, surprised, then grinned ear-to-ear. “Toy?!”
“Yes, a toy.” Keiko smiled, handing him the small wrapped box.
The boy squealed, “Toy!! Thank you, sis!” His babyish pronunciation was so cute it almost erased the chaos of his earlier declaration.
The parents laughed awkwardly but thanked Keiko sincerely. The mother even looked a little touched.
Keiko stood, dragging Aki away by the sleeve before Santa could self-destruct any further.
Back in the kitchen, Aki groaned dramatically. “What a scary kid. He almost ruined me! Santa Aki, destroyed in one second!”
I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my tray. “You were completely broken out there.”
“It’s not funny! My Santa pride was crushed!” she protested.
“Santa pride?” Suzuka chimed in, deadpan. “Since when do you have that?”
The kitchen erupted in laughter.
---
The night rolled on, and chaos never stopped. Families came and went, each bringing their own drama.
One couple had a loud fight right in the middle of dinner—so loud that even the kids at the next table stopped chewing to watch.
Another table had a proposal, the kind where the man dropped to his knee and half the restaurant clapped. A few staff even peeked out of the kitchen to see if she’d say yes. (She did. Then they kissed so long that Aki muttered, “Get a room” under her Santa beard.)
At another table, a group of office workers were clearly tipsy, singing Christmas carols loudly and out of tune, clinking glasses every thirty seconds. Suzuka had to step in three times to stop them from standing on the chairs.
The energy was chaotic, frustrating, hilarious, and weirdly heartwarming all at once. That was the holiday season.
Keiko stayed steady the whole time, moving between tables, calming down tense parents, helping kids with their gifts, smiling patiently even when things got rough.
I found myself watching her more than I should. Every time I doubted myself, I thought—if she believes in me, I can really do this.
---
Later that night, near closing, when the crowd finally thinned, we all gathered in the back with steaming bowls of miso soup we had prepared for the staff. The exhaustion hit us all at once—legs sore, voices hoarse, hair messy from hours of running around. But despite everything, we were laughing.
Aki still had her Santa hat on, tilted to one side, muttering, “I’m retiring from being Santa forever. Kids are too dangerous.”
Suzuka smirked. “You’re just mad that a five-year-old beat you.”
“He didn’t beat me! He… he emotionally scarred me!”
Everyone burst into laughter again.
Keiko sat next to me, her hand brushing mine under the table. Just that small touch eased all the tension in my shoulders. She gave me one of her quiet smiles, the kind that said I’m proud of you.
I leaned back, letting out a tired sigh, but my chest felt warm. Yes, it was chaotic. Yes, it was exhausting. But this was our last holiday season together here, and I wanted to remember it just like this—messy, funny, and full of little moments that made the long hours worth it.
“Another crazy night done,” Miko stretched, yawning.
“And tomorrow we do it all over again,” Aki groaned.
“Oi, oi, oi…” Suzuka sang weakly again, and we all burst out laughing, even though we were too tired to stand straight.
As we walked home together, I thought about how time really did fly. In less than two weeks, I’d be gone, starting something new. But for now, in this holiday chaos, surrounded by these people, I felt content.