Ramen noodles

DAYBREAK

I carried my ramen cup to the little noodle‑station tucked in the corner of the convenience store. Steam curled out of the hot‑water dispenser, misting my face in soft spirals. I peeled off the lid, dumped in the seasoning packet, then carefully lined the cup under the spout. The hiss of boiling water felt almost comforting. I filled it to the marked line, closed the lid, and gave it a gentle press, like I was sealing in something important.

While I waited, I drummed my fingers against the counter. My thoughts kept drifting back to him — the man in the hoodie, that smooth, calm way he paid for my food. I don’t even know his name, don’t have a number, but I can’t shake the feeling I owe him something. My heart thudded when I imagined him scanning his phone, totally unfazed.

Once the timer clicked (three minutes, just like I calculated), I peeled back the lid again. Steam billowed out, salty and warm, and I breathed it in. I stirred the noodles, watching the strands soften, then carried the cup over to a high stool by the counter. I slurped a few — the broth was simple but steady, exactly what I needed in this jittery moment.

Still… the image of him hovered in my mind: violet eyes, that unshakable calm.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers a little sticky from the steam, and tapped into my playlist of downloaded videos. My thumb swiped to the animated cats — little round-eyed cartoon furballs tumbling across the screen, chasing yarn, doing flip-flops with way too much enthusiasm. Their silly antics made me crack a real smile.

Then a soft voice snapped me out of it. “Is this seat taken?”

I looked up. A woman slid into the stool next to me. Her chestnut hair fell in gentle waves, and her eyes were warm, curious, friendly. She gave me a shy, hopeful smile.

“Go ahead,” I said, scooting over. “I’m Daybreak.”

She smiled back. “I’m Ciela.”

“Nice to meet you, Ciela,” I said, feeling a weird flutter in my chest, like something new was starting.

She looked at me like she meant it. “So, Daybreak… what do you do?”

I shrugged, trying to sound casual even though my brain felt foggy. “Tech stuff. I work at Xandro. But today was… weird.” My voice dropped. “Something happened.”

Her brow furrowed gently, like she understood more than I was actually saying. “Weird how?”

I met her gaze. “I saw someone,” I said. “And I feel like I owe him a favor — but I don’t even know his name.”

She nodded slowly, quietly. “That’s a lot.” Then, as if she just remembered something, she pulled out her phone. “Hey, are you on LunaraGram?”

My heart skipped. “Yeah… I am.”

Her face lit up. “Cool — I’m @Ciela_Skylore.” She typed it into her phone and handed it over.

I took it, typed in my username, and handed it back. “Added you.”

She grinned, warm and easy. We kept eating, side by side, the fluorescent lights above soft but honest. I watched the animated cats on my phone again, and she giggled at a cat slipping on yarn. For a moment, all the weirdness — the vision, the debt, the hoodie guy — felt like it could wait.

But deep down, I knew better. Something was coming. And now… maybe I had someone else in my corner.

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