SUPER AMAZING AWESOME TAKOYAKI ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

I woke up to Little Shit's snoring. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across my room, and my phone showed 5:47 PM. A quick peek into the living room confirmed Gran Gran was watching her evening soaps at full volume.

"No! Don't trust him! He cheater!" Gran Gran yelled at the TV.

I buried my face into my pillow with a groan. Kurumi's words about it being the "last Yozakura ever" kept nagging at me. And tonight, of all nights, Sae wasn't here to talk me out of it.

"Sorry, but I have prior commitments," she'd said earlier. "You'll need to watch out for yourself tonight."

Prior commitments? Since when did Sae have a life outside of monitoring me?

I flopped onto my side, weighing my options. On one hand: No Sae meant no backup if things went sideways. Also, certain death if Gran Gran caught me. On the other: my last chance to see a festival before the world ends.

Little Shit snorted and rolled closer, pinning my arm under the futon. Wait. Since when did he get so heavy? I poked his belly with my free hand - definitely squishier than before. All those melon bread are finally taking their toll.

My blood ran cold as I imagined the Shibue Daikaiju's reaction. Would I spontaneously combust if it found out I'd let its precious offspring become a chunky kaiju? The ancient magic binding our contract probably had some fine print about proper nutrition.

Little Shit's snoring hitched, and he squirmed uncomfortably in his sleep.

"Hey buddy," I nudged him awake. "Think you could use a walk."

Little Shit tilted his head at me. The concept of "going for a walk" seemed lost on him.

"You know, exercise? Moving around?" I mimed walking with my fingers. "Like what normal pets do?"

He squeaked and rolled onto his back probably expecting belly rubs. Clearly not the sharpest rock in the quarry.

Gran Gran's voice boomed from the living room: "That woman is trash! She deserve better man!"

I peeked around the corner. She was sitting cross-legged on her favorite zaisu, lost in her drama. Perfect timing. She always got most worked up during the climactic scenes. If there was ever a time to sneak out to the Yozakura, this was it.

I gestured for Little Shit to follow. We tiptoed toward what used to be the front door, staying close to the wall where the floorboards were less likely to squeak.

Just three more steps to freedom-

"Who leaving evidence on floor!?"

I froze mid-step, but it was just another outburst at the TV.

Little Shit then chose that moment to sneeze, a tiny volcanic vent appearing beneath him with a poof.

"What that smell? Something burning?"

I frantically waved away the volcanic smoke, snatching Little Shit and bolting down the makeshift steps before Gran Gran could investigate. My heart pounded against my ribs as I sprinted until we were safely around the corner.

I turned to Little Shit, keeping my voice low. "You trying to get us both killed?"

He just gave me his usual cross-eyed stare, completely unfazed.

I let out a frustrated sigh and started walking, but Little Shit made his usual move of launching himself onto my back. I peeled him off, holding him at arm's length.

"Oh no you don't. You need the exercise."

His betrayed squeak could've shattered glass. When I set him down, he performed his signature move: the deflated balloon.

"Those little legs work fine."

He army-crawled forward about two inches, then gave up.

I started walking away. "Suit yourself."

That got him moving. Sort of. He'd take three reluctant steps, then dramatically collapse, only to scramble up when I got too far ahead. Real Oscar-worthy performance if you ask me.

I decided to take the long route by the river, where cherry blossoms had started blooming early this year. Pink petals drifted down, catching the last rays of sunlight.

The sight made my chest tight. Next spring, these trees might be ash. These people strolling along the riverbank might be...

I shook off the thoughts as the festival lights came into view. The Yozakura's paper lanterns cast everything in a warm glow, turning the night into a hazy dream. Stalls lined the path, their owners shouting prices over the noise of sizzling festival food.

Looking around, everyone seemed... normal. Happy even. Couples shared mochis, kids chased each other with grilled fish on their sticks, and old folks complained about how festivals aren't what they used to be. No one looked like they were counting down humanity's final days.

Maybe they had the right idea. What's the point of worrying about the inevitable? The world was going to end in magma whether we stressed about it or not. Might as well enjoy the atmosphere and festival food while we still could, you know?

I glanced at the small stage stood at the center of the park, where some local band was butchering what sounded like a '90s song. The lead singer, sporting a tattered beanie and wielding an acoustic guitar like a weapon, launched into the chorus with way too much enthusiasm:

"Hey hey, the world's ending soon!

La la, we're all doomed!

But that's okay, that's alright,

'Cause we've got tonight!"

I was about to drag Little Shit away from this musical crime scene when someone slammed into my back, nearly knocking me over.

"Whoops! Sorry little lady!" One of them swayed dangerously close to my face, his breath reeking of cheap sake. His friends caught him just before he face-planted and they all stumbled off, their drunken laughter fading into the crowd.

Little Shit squeaked in protest when the drunk group nearly stepped on him. I quickly scooped him up, grateful he didn't start making mini-volcanoes. The last thing we needed at the festival was a volcanic eruption.

As we moved away from the stage, a flash of neon pink hair caught my eye. No way. I'd know that gyaru disaster anywhere.

There she was - Yukina, in all her glory, manning her dad's takoyaki stand. She'd traded her KaiKool uniform for a takoyaki-print happi coat.

The stall's sign was peak Yukina energy too: "SUPER AMAZING AWESOME TAKOYAKI ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶!" in bubbly letters, complete with hearts and octopus doodles.

"Hey Little Shit, want to help me get some payback?" I whispered.

Little Shit perked up. I hoisted him up. Huh, he did feel a bit lighter. The walk must have done some good after all.

"Give me your scariest face," I coached as we crept up behind Yukina. Little Shit twisted his face like he was constipated. Eh, close enough.

I positioned him right at Yukina's eye level and cleared my throat. "Excuse me, I'd like to order some takoyaki."

"Fresh batch coming up!" Yukina sang as she turned around with a steaming plate of takoyaki. Her eyes met Little Shit's crossed ones, and time seemed to freeze.

The scream that followed could've shattered every paper lantern in a five-mile radius. Yukina stumbled backward, her platform sandals betraying her. The takoyaki launched into the air, each of the twelve balls traced its own graceful arc, steam trailing behind them like comet tails.

But before gravity could claim its victims, a blur of movement caught both Yukina and the plate of airborne takoyaki.

"Dad!"

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry about scaring your daughter. I couldn't resist."

He laughed heartily. "No harm done!"

"Dad, you're supposed to be on my side! Not Ryūka's!"

Yukina's dad squinted at me, recognition dawning on his weathered face. "Wait a minute. You're that kaiju girl from the news!"

I braced for the usual barrage of questions, but his eyes lit up with something else.

"Perfect timing! Say, would you be interested in helping us run the stand tonight? Our part-timer called in sick, and these festival crowds are brutal."

"We'll pay you, of course," he added quickly.

Did he say… pay?

"Say no more."

"What? Dad, you can't be serious!"

Her dad just laughed, already reaching for a spare happi.

I slipped the happi on, tying it tight. The familiar weight, the sizzle of cooking food, the shouts of hungry customers - some things never changed. Even with the world careening toward its doom, here I was, back in food service.

But hey, at least I was getting paid tonight.