A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Four

Heeeeeeeeeeeey, what is up my fellow readers?!

Alright, I introduce to you Chapter Four: THE ONLY CHAPTER THAT I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR THAT IS POSTED AS ONE FULL CHAPTER! (Meaning that it wasn't chopped up in a bunch of parts.)  It's sort of like a "special" chapter.

Hope it squeezes a giggle out of you!

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“Amanatsu! You’re late!” a familiar screech sounded from the depths of the restaurant.

The boy named Amanatsu, ruffled the thick, ginger locks that hung down his forehead as stepped into the doorway. The dawn’s light brightly lit the restaurant, shading the room with a soft golden glow.

Amanatsu lifted his wrist into sight. The hands of the watch crept past the small numbers embedded behind the thin glass.

“I’m ten minutes early,” he protested, walking further into the restaurant towards the counter.

“Doesn’t matter if you’re here early. Whoever gets here last deserves penalty! But I’ll let you off today with a warning.”

Amanatsu bitterly grunted as he slipped behind the counter and into the kitchen. “The restaurant doesn’t open until nine. It’s eight thirty.”

He peered at the figure hovering over the stoves and ovens that sat around the room. She was already set in uniform with her stringy hair tied up into a long, orange ponytail. She turned her gaze towards Amanatsu with a swift whip. “Exactly,” she strictly pronounced as she scraped the tops of the stoves with a dirty rag. “Hotaru was going to run a shift today. We have to find a replacement for her.”

“Why?” Amanatsu slowly shook his head as he approached his older sister. His sister’s words mentally stung him. He shrugged uncomfortably in place.

The girl relaxed her shoulders and gave the boy a concerned frown. “Today is Sora’s day off. We can’t survive without any other coworkers, Amanatsu. You understand, don’t you?”

Before Amanatsu could respond, the girl grabbed a thin wooden sheet lying beside her, and she hurried out of the kitchen. As she swerved around the counter, Amanatsu aimlessly followed her trail.

She stepped before the front doors and twirled on her heel to face Amanatsu. She held the wood onto her shoulders and Amanatsu’s eyebrows slid up his forehead when he read the thick, bold letters of the sign.

DON’T BE A FART! COME VOLUNTEER TO BE THE ORANGE CAFÉ’S NEWEST EMPLOYEE!

Underneath the bolded letters was a smaller passage surrounded by asterisks.

*Interview with the head chef is required.*

“Do you like it?” the girl cheerfully smiled. “See the pretty little picture I drew?”

Amanatsu did not necessarily like this sign. Most signs would say “Employees wanted” or “Help needed” instead of “Don’t be a fart!”

How could someone physically be a fart?

Amanatsu narrowed his eyes at the peculiar sign, and he found the “pretty little picture” very familiar.

“Mikan, that’s a stick figure carrying a two-mile tall box.” Amanatsu informed, outlining the ink with his fingertips.

“It’s not a box! It’s a cake!”