The Morning After
Kazuo woke up to chanting.
Not the usual "salaryman next door screaming into his phone about quarterly reports" kind of chanting. No. This was coordinated. Rhythmic. Cult-like.
"Ramen be praised!
Broth eternal!
Noodles divine!"
Kazuo cracked open one eye, staring at the ceiling of his cramped, still-mostly-ramen-wrapper-decorated apartment.
"…If this is a dream, I seriously need to quit eating midnight curry before bed."
He stumbled to the window, pulling the blinds just enough to peek outside.
What he saw nearly made him close them forever.
An entire congregation had gathered on the street below. Dozens of people in mismatched robes—some literal bathrobes, some kimonos, one guy wrapped in what looked suspiciously like a shower curtain—were kneeling. Bowing. Praising.
At the center of the crowd stood a self-appointed priest, wielding a ladle like a scepter. A cardboard sign behind him read:
"TEMPLE OF TANAKA – GOD OF CUP NOODLES"
Kazuo groaned into his hand. "…It's too early for this."
2. Seraphina Loses It
Seraphina stormed into the room, wings puffed out like an angry chicken.
"Creator! The cult has grown overnight!"
Kazuo gave her the deadest look imaginable. "…I don't have a cult. Cults are for charismatic psychopaths, not unemployed bachelors who once cried during a sale at Daiso."
Seraphina pointed dramatically out the window. "Then who are they?!"
Kazuo squinted again. The cultists were now trying to build an altar using milk crates and a stolen traffic cone.
"…Street performers?"
Seraphina smacked him on the back of the head so hard he almost ate his blinds.
"Creator! You must take responsibility! Your ramen miracle yesterday spread through mortal gossip like wildfire! They now believe you are a benevolent deity of nourishment!"
Kazuo sighed. "Could've been worse. At least I'm not the god of constipation."
3. The Call Center of Miracles
Things only got worse when Kazuo's phone buzzed.
Unknown number. Normally, he'd ignore it—telemarketers and debt collectors were the bane of his existence. But curiosity got the better of him.
"Hello?"
"YES, HALLELUJAH, IT WORKED!"
"…What?"
A woman on the other end was sobbing with joy. "Oh, merciful Lord of Ramen, I prayed last night, asking for my gacha pulls to finally bless me with a 5-star, and this morning—I got TWO!"
Kazuo blinked. "…Lady, I think you have the wrong—"
But she had already hung up.
The phone buzzed again. Another unknown number.
"Lord Tanaka! My hemorrhoids vanished overnight! Praise be to the sacred broth!"
Kazuo nearly dropped the phone. "What the hell—"
BZZZT.
Another call.
"Creator, can you make my cat stop attacking my router? It's ruining my ranked games."
Kazuo pinched the bridge of his nose. "…I need a nap."
But the calls didn't stop. In fact, they multiplied. By mid-afternoon, his phone was vibrating so violently it walked itself off the table.
Seraphina snatched it up. "Creator, you cannot simply ignore prayers! Mortals are reaching out to you in desperation!"
Kazuo threw himself onto the couch, burying his face in a pillow. "Then tell them I'm out of office. I'm busy. On vacation. Dead. Pick one."
Seraphina glared. "Fine. Then I shall answer for you."
She pressed the phone to her ear. "Mortal, you have reached the holy line of Lord Tanaka. Please hold, your miracle is important to us."
There was a pause. Then the faint sound of a mortal actually holding.
Seraphina smiled wickedly. "…This is fun."
4. Miracles Gone Wrong
By evening, word had spread that calling Kazuo's number guaranteed divine intervention. His number was now plastered on message boards, group chats, and even scrawled in Sharpie on the bathroom wall of the local karaoke bar.
The problem? Kazuo didn't actually try to grant miracles.
He sneezed once while on the phone with a farmer—next morning, the farmer's fields produced carrots the size of baseball bats.
He accidentally butt-dialed someone while napping—the recipient found their bald spot miraculously sprouted luscious hair overnight. Unfortunately, it kept growing until it swallowed his living room furniture.
Worst of all, one guy called begging for "romantic success." Kazuo, half-asleep, muttered: "Good luck, buddy."
The next day, the guy showed up at Kazuo's doorstep dragging three fiancées, all fighting to the death with umbrellas in the parking lot.
Kazuo stared out the peephole as chaos unfolded. "…This is why I don't date."
5. The News Breaks
That night, the local TV news ran a segment.
"Mysterious phenomena are spreading through downtown Tokyo, all seemingly linked to one man—Kazuo Tanaka. Citizens report miraculous healings, impossible luck, and even winged household pets. Experts are calling it the 'Tanaka Phenomenon.'"
The anchor smiled stiffly into the camera.
"In unrelated news, cup ramen sales have skyrocketed 900%."
Kazuo nearly choked on his noodles. "THEY USED MY NAME ON NATIONAL TELEVISION?!"
Seraphina beamed with pride. "At last, your glory spreads!"
Kazuo clutched his head. "No! Glory means responsibility! Responsibility means paperwork! Paperwork means—I have to answer emails!"
Sure enough, his inbox dinged with 347 unread miracle requests. Subject lines included:
"Please cure my husband's snoring."
"Need S-tier pulls in Waifu Wars 3000."
"Can you make my dog stop judging me while I shower?"
Kazuo typed exactly one reply:
"unsubscribe."
6. Enter the Government
Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, the doorbell rang.
Two men in suits stood outside. Sunglasses. Earpieces. Government energy.
Kazuo cracked the door an inch. "…If this is about my taxes, I swear I'll—"
The taller man flashed a badge. "Japan Bureau of Supernatural Phenomena. Mr. Tanaka, we need to talk."
Kazuo froze. "…Supernatural what-now?"
Seraphina pushed past him, gasping. "At last! The emissaries of mortal authority arrive to worship!"
The agents exchanged glances. "…Right. We'll need you both to come with us."
Kazuo blinked. "Do I at least get ramen on the way?"
The shorter agent muttered: "…This guy's supposed to be a god?"
7. The Interrogation of a God
They dragged Kazuo into a sterile government office that looked suspiciously like a DMV.
The lead agent sat across the table. "Mr. Tanaka, reports indicate that you have performed multiple… 'miracles.' Healing, weather manipulation, spontaneous culinary phenomena…"
Kazuo held up a hand. "First of all, I didn't manipulate weather. That was a winged cat with gastrointestinal issues."
The agent raised an eyebrow. "…Excuse me?"
Seraphina clapped her hands proudly. "Yes! The Creator blessed a feline with the power of holy flight and divine excrement!"
Kazuo facepalmed. "Stop. Explaining."
The agent slid a file across the table. Photos of all the incidents—giant carrots, hair growth disasters, ramen riots.
Kazuo groaned. "…Okay, fine. Maybe a few miracles happened. But look, I didn't mean to. They just… happen."
The agent leaned in. "So you admit it. You're not human."
Kazuo deadpanned. "…Buddy, I'm thirty-five, single, and my back hurts when I stand too long. I'm as human as it gets."
8. The Great Escape
The interrogation dragged on until Kazuo finally snapped.
"You know what? Screw this."
He waved his hand dismissively—and accidentally turned the agent's pen into a live goldfish.
The room went silent. The fish flopped helplessly on the paperwork.
Seraphina gasped. The agents screamed. Kazuo sighed. "…Dammit."
Before anyone could react, the building's lights flickered. Phones rang. Every vending machine in a 10-mile radius suddenly spat out free ramen cups like slot machines.
The agents panicked. "Contain it! Contain it now!"
Seraphina grabbed Kazuo's arm. "Creator, we must flee!"
Kazuo groaned as she dragged him out the door. "Do I ever get to finish a cup of noodles in peace?"
9. The Cliffhanger
By the time they escaped the Bureau, the streets were chaos. People were lining up outside Kazuo's apartment with empty bowls, chanting for blessings. The ramen cult now numbered in the hundreds.
At the center stood a new figure: a slick-looking man in priest robes, holding a megaphone.
"Brothers and sisters! Our Lord Tanaka is merciful, but he cannot hear all prayers at once! That is why I—High Priest Kenji—shall be the intermediary between mortals and our Ramen God!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Kazuo stopped dead. "…Oh hell no. I didn't approve a middle manager."
Seraphina gasped. "Creator, this is dangerous! They're organizing… weaponizing faith!"
Kazuo rubbed his temples. "…Great. I can't even manage my fridge, and now I've got a religion to babysit."
The High Priest raised his arms.
"Prepare yourselves, faithful! For tomorrow, we build the First Ramen Cathedral!"
The crowd roared.
Kazuo's face went pale. "…I need a vacation."