I'm Beryl Ankokuno! I'm 25 years old, recently graduated from culinary school. I'm a Capricorn, my blood type is A, and my birth stone is the garnet. I'm more boy-crazy than others and I have a bit of a short temper. That's about it.

"Time to wake up! Time to wake up!" beeped my cute cat alarm clock cheerfully. I groaned, rolling over to hit the snooze button one more time, then immediately sat bolt upright in bed.

"IT'S ALREADY EIGHT O'CLOCK!" I yelled, and threw off the covers. I was going to be late for my meeting with the real estate agent! "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?! Thanks a lot, you useless piece of junk!" I snapped at the clock. I slammed my hand down on it to turn off its chirping. Had I really pressed the snooze button that many times? I couldn't remember.

I dropped a piece of toast into my toaster, brushed my teeth, combed out my long, red hair, and put on a purple H&M dress. (Real estate viewing tip #1: Wear nice clothes to make a good impression!) Though I knew I was dangerously close to running late, I took a second standing in front of the mirror for my daily pep talk: "You're Chef Beryl! The dame of desserts! The champion of crepes! Soon you'll have people lining up by the hundreds! Come on, let's go!"

Just as I was finishing, the toaster popped. I stuck the piece of toast in my mouth and ran out the door. (Real estate viewing tip #2: Eat a good breakfast!) I took the stairs as fast as I could in my sensible shoes and dashed out the front door to see my agent just pulling up to the curb.

"Perfect timing!" he said. (Real estate viewing tip #3: Don't be late!)

"Thank you for agreeing to continue meeting with me," I said, getting into the car. "I'm sure it hasn't been easy for you to schedule all these showings." (Real estate viewing tip #4: Remember your pleases and thank yous!)

"My motto is 'never give up until the customer is satisfied!'" he chirped. He pulled away from my apartment and began driving us to the shop we'd be looking at today. "I have to admit, with your…budgetary restrictions, I had nearly given up on finding a storefront you could rent. But I think you'll be very pleased. This one is right on your price point, and it's in a prime location."

I couldn't help but feel suspicious. "What's the catch?"

"There is a slight, erm, structural issue that the landlord recently discovered. It's practically nothing, totally invisible from the front—well, you'll see."

I decided not to press for details until I could see the place for myself. The fact was, I wasn't in a position to be demanding. I had quit my job in hopes of realizing my lifelong dream of owning a crepe shop, but rent was so high these days that my savings wouldn't stretch to cover my startup costs. If I didn't find an affordable place soon, I would have to give up and go back to my 9 to 5.

"Here we are!" the agent said. I got out and took in the surroundings. The exterior was functional, if basic, just a plain glass door and a takeout window. The paint had faded around the letters of a previous sign that read "Café". But the street did have enough other businesses to draw customers, and seemed to get a decent amount of foot traffic.

"Like I said, it's a great location, right in the heart of Juuban," the agent continued. "Let's have a look inside, shall we?" I nodded and followed him through the door. The interior had a dated charm: pink and white linoleum floor, a small kitchen space next to the window, room for a few tables. The problem was, it also had a gigantic hole yawning out of the back wall.

"This is clearly the 'structural issue' you mentioned," I said, pointing.

"Y-yes," the agent replied. I could pick out a few drops of sweat beading on his brow.

"It's less clear how this qualifies as 'totally invisible'."

"Well, see, all you have to do is close these!" He hurried forward and shut a pair of decorative double doors that I had somehow failed to notice. The hole really pulled in your attention, I supposed. "See? No sign of it. Just slap an Employees Only sign on the front and nobody has to know."

"Hmm." I pulled the doors open again. The hole—but no, it was too deep to be called that. This was a tunnel. And though it could have been my imagination, I felt a cold breeze blowing in from wherever it ended. "How far down does this go?" I asked, kneeling down to look further into the tunnel.

"Ma'am, I'm not sure that's safe," he quailed. I ignored him and squinted into the darkness. This tunnel was an intriguing mystery. Where had it come from? Where did it lead? I felt like I should have known, like it was somewhere deep in the back of my mind. Just a bit further, and it would come to me…

"Ma'am, I really must ask you to stop," the agent said, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me out of the tunnel. I brushed him off, annoyed, and stood.

I meant to ask whether merely closing the door would make this compliant with health inspection standards. What came out of my mouth instead was, "I will rent this store."

"Oh…really? Well, wonderful! I'll just get the rental agreement and we can get this settled right now!"

I shook my head, watching him scuttle back to the car. Did I agree to that too quickly? But then, hadn't I just been thinking that this was my last chance to achieve my dream? Right, this was my dream! I was one contract away from finally becoming a crepe shop owner! This wasn't the time to get hung up on details.

"Alright," the agent said, setting the contract on the counter in front of me. "I'll just need your name here, the intended name of the shop here, and your signature here. You have decided on a name for your shop, haven't you?"

I nodded. "I'm calling it 'Ankokuno Crepes', after me, obviously!"

"Ah. Um…no offense, ma'am, I'm sure the kanji are totally different, but doesn't that sound like it means 'Crepes of Darkness'? I don't think you'd get a lot of customers with a name like that."

I frowned. "Maybe you're right. Well, let's just go with "La Crepe Shop", then."

"Isn't that a little—"

"I don't care!" Without waiting for further feedback, I scribbled the name on the rental agreement, then signed on the dotted line.

"Well, then, congratulations!" The agent shook my hand. "I wish you the best of luck."

"I've already had it."