It was a nice day.

The last customers had left the restaurant had left the restaurant well-sated. They would come back the next day. And on the slight chance that they hadn't made up their mind about the food, the smiling, waving, and ever-so-polite-and-friendly Jam Kuradoberi bouncing about would make it up for them.

Jam smiled wider as she made a quick survey of the day's takings – they were at least thirty dollars more than the day before.

It was then he entered the doorway.

Her smile grew wider still. He sat down, she got the teacups, poured out the tea, and sat across him at the table.

At the start, they talked. After ten minutes, they had Words.

"First the sweatpants. Then the teacups. Now this!"

"It's abandoned. There won't be any trouble."

"It's abandoned because of trouble! That's what Millia says. You hear about the mysterious explosions on the seven o'clock satellite, don'tcha? And you saw that horse that they found wandering near the outpost! It was mutated and bad-tempered and drooling and kicking anyone who dared go near-"

"That was a camel, Miss Kuradoberi."

"What if you turn into a camel!"

"I promise I won't be bad-tempered. Or drooling. Or kicking around you."

But Jam wasn't listening. "Aiyoh! Who will I eat dinner with now?" Her voice was almost a wail. "Who'll have my buns?"

"Jam," said Ky. "Jam. Look at me. That's right. What if you had a chance, just the one? to calm these savage days? to strike a blow which would end all fighting? to prevent your restaurant being burnt down by evil robots? Wouldn't you take it, no matter how many miles you'd have to travel or where you'd have to go?"

"No," Jam said with none of her usual bounce. "Sometimes the price is just too much to pay. But I know you would. Goodbye then, Ky. Only know…"

"Eh? Miss Kuradoberi?"

"…sixteen…eighteen…" Jam counted off her fingers. "Twenty-one…thirty one. Thirty-one eighty-seven. That's thirty one eighty-seven tax you owe me for last July's dinners. Hand it over."

"You know I don't carry money around with me!"

"Well then, that's too bad." Jam smirked at him. "Luckily for you, I have a pile of greasy dishes back in the kitchen. Get working. And take off your shirt while you're at it. Grease stains are hard to get off these days."

And so, Ky found himself scrubbing dishes in Jam's kitchen the night before he left to seek the Sword of Salvation. But the dishwashing didn't fully cover his tab, so Ky had to mop the floors, touch up the signboard, track down misplaced menus and arrange the chairs and tables in preparation for the following day of business. It was near eleven-thirty, by his estimate, when he angled the waving maneki neko on the last table straight towards the East Wind of Fortune.

Jam said nothing throughout the entire evening. When he dared look at her, she looked…sad. Then she'd glare at him and pick at his coat.

In the end, they were in the doorway, one on either side. She handed him back his coat, and with it, three large-sized boxes with her face drawn chibi-style on the cover, the sides and the underneath. A line to the right of said caricature read: MISS KURADOBERI JAM'S WONDERFULLY SMOOTH BUNS! (no jam version)

"These are new products," she said. "I'm letting you be the first to try them."

"Thank you," he said.

"Goodbye, Ky."

"Goodnight…Jam."

"Goodnight."

"Goodbye."

Ky struggled into his shirt and set a quick pace.

"Hey!"

Ky looked back.

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know…"

A pause. Two children, a boy and a girl, ran across the street. One held a lantern; the other held a half-eaten mooncake. Both were laughing.

"I like your teacups."(!)

Another pause. The boy and girl ran across the street again.

"I never complained when you went back to your normal waitress uniform, Miss Kuradoberi."

"Mmm."

"Mmm."

And he walked away.

Jam closed her restaurant the following day, and gave her staff a paid holiday during that time. When she re-opened, she hung a personally-calligraphed advertisement by the front door announcing half-price wontons, steamed buns and ban mian. But after three days, prices reverted to normal. Life continued, more or less.

Well, not so much 'more'.

'Less' was more accurate.

'Much less' would have been even more so.

Kinda.(!)

(!) The story of the teacups can be found in 'Greasy Lightning XX: The Afternoon Picnic'. It is best read with a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows, and cuddling a fuzzy-wuzzy bunny.

(!) It might be worthwhile to note that following this incident, Jam met, and fell in love with, a nice young man who loved cooking almost as much as he loved her. They had three children together. Jam eventually passed on at a ripe old age, the founder of a global restaurant chain famous for its waitresses in short, short skirts, and for its signature dish: a miraculously light medley of wontons and steamed buns in ban mian. And its unparalleled selection of teas.