The house was quiet, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock and the distant patter of rain still dripping from the roof. A dim light from the kitchen lamp cast a soft glow over the room, wrapping the midnight air in a hushed stillness.
Hana sat at the wooden dining table, her elbows propped against the surface, staring at the stack of worn, leather-bound recipe books. They had belonged to her parents her greatest treasure and the heaviest burden she carried.
Her fingers traced the faded gold lettering on the cover. Family Recipes.
Inside, countless pages were filled with delicate handwriting, detailed measurements, and little notes scribbled in the margins by her mother and father. Pastries, cakes, cookies their life's work, their pride. Recipes that had once brought joy to people's lives.
Hana's chest tightened. But what's the point of these recipes if I can't even bake them like they did?
The debtor's harsh voice echoed in her mind. "Three days, Hana. Pay up, or lose everything."
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears threatening to spill. "Three days… what can I even make that'll save me? What can possibly attract people, blow their minds, and keep them coming back?"
Her gaze drifted to the couch.
There, sprawled across her pillow, was the white cat fast asleep, his back exposed, paws curled, belly showing like he owned the place. He looked ridiculously at peace, chest rising and falling with every soft breath.
Hana couldn't help but mutter, "…How can you sleep so soundly when my whole life is falling apart?"
She smiled faintly despite herself. Looking at him reminded her of their earlier argument specifically, when she had tried to give him a name.
"What about Snowy?" she had suggested.
"Too obvious," the cat had snapped without hesitation.
"Fluffy?"
"Disgusting."
"Marshmallow?"
The glare he'd given her could have burned a hole through the wall. "Do I look like a snack to you?"
Hana had almost torn her hair out, but then the name had slipped from her lips, soft and certain. "Miko."
The cat's ears had twitched, and though he'd acted unimpressed, she could tell he secretly approved. "…Hmph. I suppose it's acceptable."
Her smile deepened as she looked at his sleeping face now. "…Miko. For some reason, it really does suit you."
Hana pulled the recipe book closer, flipping through the pages filled with her parents' neat handwriting. Cakes with flawless layers, cookies described with perfect balance, pastries that once drew customers from across the city.
She chewed on her pen, staring at the pages until the letters blurred. "No, no… I can't make these. I don't have their skill. I don't even have half their touch…"
With a frustrated sigh, she turned to a blank page at the back and began scribbling.
"Maybe… a strawberry tart with… no, too expensive. Or a cheesecake no, I'd mess that up for sure. Chocolate cookies? Ugh, too plain! Something magical, something that'll blow people away…"
Her pen scratched furiously as she wrote down half-formed ideas, only to cross them out seconds later. Soon, the page was a battlefield of words, arrows, and messy lines.
Hana dropped her head onto the table, groaning into her arms. "Hopeless… I'm hopeless. I don't know what to do anymore…"
"Clearly."
"AHHH!" Hana shot up, nearly knocking over her chair.
Miko sat on the table right in front of her, tail swishing, blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "What on earth are you doing? Scribbling like a lunatic, as if the ink itself will solve your problems."
Hana clutched her chest. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You nearly scared the life out of me!"
Miko tilted his head, smug. "If your heart stops from something that small, maybe you really are as weak as you look."
Her face turned red. "I..I was trying to figure out what to bake, okay?! Something new, something amazing that could… could actually save the bakery." She gestured helplessly at the mess of scribbles. "But look at this, it's a disaster. I'm a disaster."
Miko looked down at the page, then back at her, his expression flat. "Correction: you're worse than a disaster. At least disasters leave an impression. This? This is just pathetic."
Hana slammed the pen down. "Do you ever say anything encouraging?!"
"No," Miko replied instantly. Then he sat down neatly on the messy recipe notes, flicking his tail across the page as if erasing her scribbles with his arrogance alone. "You're looking at this all wrong, stupid woman."
Hana glared at him. "Excuse me?"
"Stop panicking and actually read," Miko said flatly, tapping the leather-bound family book with his paw. "Not just skimming through like a child flipping a magazine. Read carefully. Understand the details. The answer you're looking for is already inside."
Hana threw her hands up. "I'm hopeless, not illiterate! I know how to read! I've gone through these recipes countless times!"
"Countless times," Miko echoed, unimpressed. "And yet you still don't understand. There's a difference between reading and truly seeing."
Hana slumped back into her chair, groaning. "You're impossible."
"Read again," Miko ordered, eyes narrowing. "Read until the words stop being just words."
Hana sighed heavily, dragging the book back in front of her. "Fine. But if this doesn't work, I'm blaming you."
She flipped open a page she had memorized by heart, her mother's signature blueberry tart. At first, it was the same as always, clean handwriting, neat measurements, detailed steps. Nothing she hadn't already failed at a dozen times.
But then,
The letters began to shimmer faintly. The ink twisted, curling into unfamiliar symbols, as if the paper itself was breathing. Hana blinked hard, rubbing her eyes, but the words had already changed completely. Strange runes filled the page… and yet, somehow, she understood them.
Her heart skipped. "W-what… what is this?!"
She shoved the book toward Miko, wide-eyed. "Look! The words! they changed! Tell me I'm not crazy!"
Miko gave her a bored look, licking his paw. "Yes, I know. Took you long enough."
"You… you knew?!"
"Of course." Miko hopped onto the table, glancing down at the glowing runes. "That's the true form of your family's recipes. Ordinary eyes see only ordinary words. But blessed eyes…" His gaze flicked toward her hand. "…see the magic woven into them."
Hana stared at the book in awe, her fingers trembling against the glowing page. "Magic… recipes?"
Miko smirked. "Congratulations. You finally opened the right door. Try not to trip over the threshold."
Hana's eyes darted across the glowing page, her lips moving as she tried to sound out the new words that somehow made sense in her head.
"The first recipe is… Celestia Strawberry Veil Cake…?" she murmured.
Her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what kind of name is that? Sounds more like a spell than a dessert."
She read further down, her eyes scanning the list of ingredients:
Moonlit Flour,
Dewdrop Sugar Crystals,
Whipped Stardust Cream,
Blushberry Essence
And the list continue..
Hana froze. "…What the heck is Moonlit Flour? Dewdrop Sugar? Stardust Cream?! Where am I supposed to buy this? On the moon?!"
Miko, lounging on the counter, flicked his tail lazily. "Oh, so you can read. Congratulations, you're not completely useless."
Hana glared at him, jabbing her finger at the book. "Don't mock me! These ingredients aren't even real! Do I look like someone who can just summon stardust from thin air?"
Miko yawned, showing his sharp teeth. "That's the point. They're not ingredients that can be found in the human world." His eyes gleamed. "Nothing about you is ordinary for your information."
Hana looked back at the glowing recipe, her head spinning. "So what, I'm supposed to… what, wave a wand? Pray to the sugar gods? Sprinkle fairy dust on my batter?!"
"Pathetic," Miko muttered, resting his chin on his paw. "You'll figure it out. Eventually. Assuming you don't starve to death first."
Hana dropped her forehead onto the table again, groaning. "This is insane…"
Hana slammed the book shut, her face hot. "This is a joke. Maybe I just need to sleep. I'm starting to hallucinate."
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the recipe book back toward the shelf.
The moment the spine touched the wood..
Click.
A soft grinding noise echoed through the quiet kitchen. Hana froze. The bookshelf trembled, then slowly, impossibly, it began to shift aside like a hidden door.
Her breath caught in her throat. Behind it, where there should have been nothing but a wall, stretched a narrow passage glowing faintly with lantern light. The faint scent of baked bread and wood smoke drifted out, carried by a gentle breeze.
Heart pounding, Hana stepped closer, peeking inside. At the end of the passage, she could see it..
A village. Not a modern city street, not her quiet neighborhood, but a quaint, old-fashioned village of stone cottages, lantern posts, and cobblestone paths. Smoke curled from chimneys, the warm glow of windows flickered like stars, and in the distance she could hear laughter, the clatter of carts, and the ringing of a blacksmith's hammer.
Hana's hands trembled on the edge of the shelf. "N-no way. This… this can't be real."
She bit her lip, torn between fear and curiosity. Every part of her screamed to shut the shelf and run upstairs, pretend none of this was happening. But her legs wouldn't move.
Behind her, Miko stretched lazily, eyes glinting with amusement.
And then her foot slipped against the wooden floor.
"Wahhh!"
Hana stumbled forward right through the passage. The shelf slammed shut behind her with a thud, sealing away her kitchen as though it had never existed.
She stood frozen on cobblestone ground, staring wide-eyed at the bustling village that looks so magical now unfolding before her.
"…What… what is this place…?"
The lanterns above flickered, as if answering her...