After a tiring weekend, another miserable week of work begins. And of course, my existence as a Time Warden is wasted on the battlefield of fried chicken.
At least I no longer promote Fried Chicken Heaven every single day. Just once every two days now. And yet, the restaurant is still packed. But instead of kids running around and smearing ketchup on the walls, there's an unsettling increase in teenage girls. Young adult women, too. They whisper, giggle, and steal glances at me. Some even throw exaggerated winks, like I'm supposed to faint from their charm or something, like a plague. But a plague that giggles and takes selfies.
"Shiwei! Shiwei! Can we get a picture with you?"
"Shiwei, your chicken nuggets are so good, but not as good as you~"
"Marry me! Or at least give me extra fries!"
By the hands of time. What did I ever do to deserve this? I mean, I'm not a chicken nugget influencer, I'm just a humble Time Warden stuck flipping fried goods.
Disgusting...
"Hey, Shiwei," a voice purrs from behind. And speaking of disgusting.
Liza, my flirty coworker, slides up to me with that devilish grin of hers. She's the real menace of Fried Chicken Heaven. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she ran a secret underground faction.
"Another fangirl left her number for you. Again." She dangles a napkin with a phone number scribbled in obnoxiously pink ink. I glance at it. "Call me, handsome". Ugh.
"Throw it away," I grumble, flipping the chicken with a little too much force.
"You know, one day you're gonna regret rejecting all these poor girls."
"And one day, pigs are gonna fly."
She bursts into laughter, dramatically clutching her chest like I've struck her. "Why are you so cold, Shiwei? What happened to you? Did some woman break your heart?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because I have a shred of dignity left."
Liza cackles. I roll my eyes and return to my chicken-flipping duty.
But just as I place another basket of fries into the oil, my stomach twists. That familiar feeling. The undeniable sense of imminent disaster.
"Tch." I narrow my eyes. "What did she do now?"
I don't pull out my phone. No. I've evolved past that. I've got something better. A spell. A Monitoring Spell I developed ages ago to observe time distortions. Now? I use it to monitor a different kind of distortion — Akari. The idiot girl herself.
I close my eyes slightly, muttering the incantation under my breath. A translucent, glowing orb forms in my palm. Within it, a blurry vision sharpens, revealing the scene at the Majestic Gyudon restaurant.
And there she is.
Akari. The human embodiment of chaos. A walking hazard to society.
She's standing in the restaurant that sells the Majestic Gyudon—my once salvation. Why she bothers working there when she could just cook at home is beyond me. But that's not even the problem. No, the problem is the tray of drinks she's holding.
"No..."
Three glasses of soda. One in each hand, one balanced precariously on her elbow. And the worst part? She's grinning. Completely clueless.
"By the hands of time... She's going to destroy everything!"
I glance around Fried Chicken Heaven. Liza is too busy flirting with the customers to notice me. Good.
Focusing, I channel the energy in my body. Time bends. It's like flipping a switch. Everything slows. The sizzle of the fryer, the chatter of the restaurant, the fluttering of Liza's eyelashes mid-flirt. All frozen in a perfect moment of suspended stupidity.
And now, to fix her mess. Again.
With one swift motion, I stretch my awareness through time. The Monitoring Spell's image shifts as I manipulate the flow. A quick dash, a simple nudge. The drink teetering on Akari's elbow loses its balance. Before it can crash into oblivion, I adjust its angle. It steadies. The disaster is averted.
"You're welcome, idiot girl," I mutter.
Returning to the present, I blink, and the world resumes its natural speed. Akari's grin remains intact, utterly unaware that her life just flashed before her eyes.
"That was close," she mumbles to herself, sipping her drink. "I'm so lucky!"
"No. You're not." I glare at the vision as it dissipates.
And yet... I sigh. Even though she's a walking disaster, I can't bring myself to stop saving her. Because as long as she's cooking for me, I'll be her unpaid part-time hero. She doesn't know I'm the one helping her, and she'll probably never know. But that's fine. That's our routine.
"Shiwei! You're burning the chicken!"
"Ah, crap!"
***
Finally. The day ends.
After a long day of battling the flames of Fried Chicken Heaven, I step out of the battlefield, smelling like a cursed combination of grease and despair. My noble steed, Silver Fang, awaits. Gleaming under the dim streetlights, it almost seems to judge me for the sins I've committed against countless chickens.
But before I can ride into the sunset, the universe presents me with yet another challenge.
"By the hands of time... Not again."
There she is. Akari. The human catastrophe. A danger to herself and to every living being within a one-mile radius.
She pedals away from the Ricebowl shop like an oblivious child on her little pink bike. And, naturally, she's heading straight toward a lamp post. Full speed. Like destiny itself ordained that lamp post to end her.
"You idiot!" I mutter under my breath, already feeling my powers tingling.
Time bends. The air thickens. The distant sounds of the city fade into a low hum as everything slows to a crawl. The breeze freezes mid-whirl. The flickering neon sign nearby remains stuck mid-blink.
And there's Akari, her eyes closed, probably thinking about what dessert she's going to devour later, completely oblivious to her impending doom.
"Unbelievable."
I nudge the fabric of time ever so slightly. Just enough for her to react. The bike wobbles. She opens her eyes, confused, then swerves at the last possible second. The lamp post is spared. Civilization lives another day.
"Hah... I swear." I exhale, the weight of divine intervention exhausting me. "This girl..."
Akari, of course, has the nerve to look impressed with herself, laughing as if she narrowly escaped death all on her own.
"I'm so lucky!" she chirps.
"No. No, you're not. You're a menace," I grumble, mounting Silver Fang. But my complaints fall into the void. She's already pedaling away, probably to destroy something else.
Back at the apartment, my stomach growls. Another duty awaits.
Shameless? Maybe. But Akari's cooking has ruined my standards forever. Fried Chicken Heaven's chicken once-smells so tasty you want to eat even the mascot? Pathetic. The gyudon across the street? An insult to gyudon-kind. Only Akari's culinary sorcery can satisfy this mortal vessel now.
But of course, I'm a man of principle. I've started buying the ingredients from time to time. Contribution is key. Even a Time Warden must give back to society.
After changing into my loungewear, I march over to the door next to mine. The sacred portal that separates me from dinner.
Knock. Knock.
And there she is.
"By the hands of time..."
Akari stands there, her hair tied into a messy ponytail, an apron hugging her waist, and a spatula in hand like it's a divine scepter. The kitchen lights illuminate her, casting a golden glow. Is she glowing? Why the hell is she glowing?
No, no, no.
I whip out my smartphone. My eternal nemesis. My cursed oracle of wisdom and suffering.
"The idiot girl is glowing in my eyes again. How in the name of time did that happen?" I type furiously.
Search: Why in the name of time does the idiot girl glowing in my eyes?
"Congratulations! You might be in love!"
"Top signs you are attracted to someone"
"How to confess to a girl you like without embarrassing yourself"
"Symptoms of a brain tumor: When to worry"
"What the hell?!" I nearly throw the phone across the hallway.
I try again. This time more specific.
Search: Emergency diagnosis for seeing an idiot glow without possible magical interference.
"When You Like Someone, Everything About Them Glows (Scientifically Proven!)"
"Love or Heatstroke? Find Out Now!"
"Why Is She So Cute?! An In-Depth Analysis"
"I hate this phone," I groan.
But there's no time for existential crises now. The smell of food lingers in the air. My primal instincts kick in.
"Hey, idiot girl," I say, tucking my cursed device back into my pocket. "What's for dinner?"
"Oh, something special! But wait... I didn't say you could come in yet," Akari pouts.
"Tch. Too bad."
Without an ounce of shame, I stride past her like I own the damn place. This is no longer just her apartment. It's our dinner battlefield. And tonight, I intend to win.
"I'll forgive your attitude if it tastes good," I declare, plopping down at the table.
Akari, the supposed innocent goddess of the kitchen, merely giggles.
"It always does."
***
I swear, this meal should've been perfect. It's a seafood dish—something Akari whipped up without even breaking a sweat. And believe me, it tastes like the gods themselves descended just to bless this plate. Yet, for the first time in my entire life, I can't focus.
Three bowls in, and I should be satisfied. But no. My eyes keep flicking up. Across the table. To the real problem.
Akari.
That idiot girl. She's just... smiling. A stupid, innocent, sunshine-filled smile as she happily munches on her own bowl. Her ponytail sways slightly as she moves, and every now and then, she hums. Like some goddamn theme song to her life.
"More rice?" she chirps, her eyes sparkling like I'm the luckiest bastard in the universe.
"Yeah," I grunt, shoving my bowl forward. Not that I need more rice. But I can't risk making it obvious that I've been staring.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Every time she smiles, I get this ridiculous warmth in my chest. And that's not supposed to happen. I'm Shiwei. The Time Warden. The dignified protector of the timeline. Not some lovestruck fool losing his damn mind over a girl with questionable intelligence and a knack for getting herself killed.
I shovel another spoonful of rice into my mouth, pretending like I'm not spiraling. The food is divine, sure. But all I can think about is how her laugh sounds when she cracks one of her dumb jokes. Or how she waves her arms dramatically when she tells stories. And that ponytail. Seriously, why the hell does she look so good with a damn ponytail?
"You're eating slower than usual," she points out, tilting her head. "Are you sick?"
"No," I snap a little too quickly. "The food's just too good. I'm savoring it."
"Ohhh, so I'm that good, huh?" She grins, obviously pleased with herself.
Damn it.
After what feels like an eternity, I finish the last of my rice. I need to escape. Fast!
"Thanks for the food," I mumble, standing up and grabbing my phone like it's my lifeline. "I'm heading back."
"Okay!" she beams. "Come over anytime, you know that."
I nod stiffly, trying to maintain my composure. But just as I reach the door, I can't help it. I glance back.
She's still smiling.
That's when it hits me. Like a damn freight train.
I'm in danger.
Not from time paradoxes, ancient beings, or catastrophic events.
No.
I'm in serious, irreversible, idiot-level danger.
Because I think I might actually like that disaster of a girl.