It’s been a week since Junpei and Ruka’s wedding. You’d think life would slow down a little after something like that, right?

Wrong.

Not only was I still working double shifts and sacrificing my days off to help at the old man’s ramen bar, but Junpei — that lovable idiot — has turned into a newlywed spammer.

I swear, if I get another message about how “Ruka made miso soup with extra love this morning,” I might launch my phone into the sun.

I sighed, glancing down at my phone as yet another message from Junpei lit up the screen.

Newlywed life’s great, bro! Wanna hang out next week? I’ll bring photos of the honeymoon!

Pass.

I slipped my phone back into my apron pocket and went back to wiping tables. My hands felt sluggish today, my head a bit hazy. But I brushed it off — can’t afford to be weak. Not with Aki on her day off, leaving Keiko alone on the front line. She was already swamped, handling a difficult customer at the counter.

“Let’s just get this done,” I muttered to myself.

Clink.

I felt my elbow nudge a glass on the table. Time slowed as it tipped, rolled, and—

Crash.

“Ack! Crap—”

“Ryuko?” Keiko’s voice came from behind me, sharp with concern.

I was already kneeling down under the table, hands shaking slightly as I picked up the shards. “Ah… sorry. I’ll pay for it.” My voice was weirdly hoarse, even to my own ears.

Then out of nowhere, a hand touched my forehead. I flinched.

Keiko knelt beside me, her brows furrowed tight. “You idiot,” she hissed under her breath so no one else could hear. “You’ve got a fever. You’re burning up!”

I quickly looked away, a flush of heat rising in my face — and not just from the fever. “It’s fine, it’s just—”

“Stop talking.” She pulled her hand away and glared at me. “You’re going home. Now.”

“But Aki’s off today,” I protested weakly. “You’ll be stuck alone at the front.”

“I’ll manage,” Keiko snapped back. “You’re in no shape to be here.”

I glanced at the clock. Still only 3 p.m. Too long for her to handle solo. My chest twisted at the thought of leaving her like that.

“I’ll just take some medicine and rest in the staff room for a bit, okay?” I muttered, wobbling to my feet.

Keiko opened her mouth to argue — then sighed in defeat. “Fine. But you better not push it. I swear, I’ll really hit you next time.”

“Duly noted, boss lady.” I gave her a weak grin and shuffled to the back room.

Collapsing onto the couch, I fumbled for some pills and downed them with water before pulling a throw blanket over myself. Within minutes, the haze took over, and I drifted into sleep.

---

At first, it was quiet. Peaceful.

Then things got weird.

I opened my eyes to pitch-black darkness. The staff room was dark. Weird. The shop never turned off the lights mid-day.

I sat up. My fever haze was gone, but my skin prickled.

I tried the door.

Locked.

“…Huh?”

I jiggled the handle harder. Nothing.

“Uh… Keiko? Miko? Anyone?”

Silence.

My stomach twisted. Okay, this wasn’t funny. I banged on the door. “Hey! Guys! Seriously!”

Then — light.

A single flicker from the window’s small pane in the door.

Someone was there.

Relief flooded me — until the door slowly creaked open… and I saw the face.

It was Keiko.

Or at least, it looked like Keiko.

But her hand — her hand on the door handle was smeared with blood.

Her face pale, eyes wide and unsettling, lips curled into a crooked, eerie smirk.

My stomach twisted into a knot. "Keiko…?” I croaked, my voice cracking.

She stepped inside, the light catching the crimson on her fingers. That same cold smirk never left her face.

“Time’s up, Ryusei,” she whispered.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Everything in me screamed this isn’t real, but I was paralyzed, trapped between nightmare and waking.

And then the knife came up in her other hand — gleaming, red-stained.

“NOOO—!” I shut my eyes tight just as it came down.

SLAP!

I bolted upright, panting hard, my cheek stinging.

Keiko was crouched beside me, one hand still hovering in midair from slapping me awake, the other pressed against my forehead.

“Idiot,” she muttered, the normal Keiko back in her voice. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

I blinked. “I—uh… bad dream.”

“No kidding.”

She reached for a nearby towel and dabbed the sweat from my brow.

“Your fever’s gone, though.”

I touched my own forehead, still breathing heavily. She was right — I didn’t feel like a boiled dumpling anymore.

“Uh… thanks.”

Keiko gave a small smile. “It’s 5 p.m. You can head home if you want.”

I sat up straighter, shaking off the last bits of that nightmare. “No way. I’ll cover for you now. You look exhausted.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she didn’t argue. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You carried the shop on your back all day. Go grab a drink or something in the back. I’ll handle the counter.”

Keiko sighed in relief. “Thanks, Ryusei.”

I gave a thumbs up. “Consider it my way of paying you back for not actually stabbing me in my sleep.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Nothing. Long story.”

Keiko rolled her eyes but laughed as she headed to the back room.

I took a deep breath, grabbed a towel from my locker, and wiped down my sweaty neck and arms. My shirt was a lost cause — clinging to me like a wet rag. I yanked it off and pulled on a clean one I kept stashed for emergencies like this.

After splashing some cold water on my face and running a hand through my damp hair, I felt halfway human again.

Grabbing my apron, I tied it around my waist and headed back out.

“Alright,” I muttered to myself. “Let’s finish this shift before the next disaster hits.”

Life’s insane. Newlywed friends spamming your phone, nightmares about bloodthirsty wife.