Erina's alarm clock rang. Her hand flailed along the nightstand, smacking the wood twice before finding the clock and shutting it off. The bedsheets rustled and she emerged, blearily rubbing her eyes. Seemed like it was time to get up.

  She pulled the blinds open on her way to the bathroom. There was still some discoloration near the bottom of the wall she couldn't quite scrub out. Maybe there was some sort of spell to get rid of it.

  It had been a few days since she first woke up in the laboratory. When she came to in this dingy apartment the morning after her fight with Goukei, there was an unlocked phone, a briefcase of cash, and a slip of paper bearing Akira's signature on the table. She'd spent most of these days nursing her sore muscles, stocking the apartment, and cleaning up as best she could. Erina was immensely grateful to Akira, but… was there really no room with less mold and grime? She couldn't help but think she used to live somewhere a lot more sanitary.

  She finished her toast and then went to get changed out of her pajamas. Erina buttoned up her blazer, made extra sure one of her socks wasn't a bit higher up her leg than the other, dusted off her skirt, and then checked her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was cleaner and glossier, but those bangs refused to stay out of her face. Erina didn't particularly want to cut them. Really, she'd given up on them at this point. She adjusted her tie, nodded to herself, and left.

  The apartment complex was a small building on the edge of the city, right up against the fence that marked the derelict sector. Some of the restaurants and shops on the street were closed down for good. From this side, she could finally read that big sign she saw back then: High radiation levels, keep out.

  Was that a front or real? Mana shields protected against radiation, right…?

  "This should be the place," mumbled Erina. Checking her phone again, she confirmed she'd walked to the right destination. Akira had texted her the night before, asking her to show up here. Erina didn't get much more than that.

  The doorbell jingled as she stepped into the pizza store.

  The windows were polished. Every surface was wiped down. A television played quietly, mounted in the corner. The store was spotless but totally empty, save for one person behind the counter who just looked over with a deep scowl.

  Erina tensed. This was the black- and blue-haired man she saw unconscious in the laboratory when she woke up.

  "Erina." Shimizu curled his lip. "Looks like our lab princess finally rolled out of bed."

  "I'm sorry." She defaulted to a bow. "Please forgive me."

  He scoffed. "At least you know how to apologize. Head up."

  Erina carefully maintained a blank, neutral expression.

  "Shimizu Aoi," the man introduced himself. "Akanaga Family Captain, Kano Clan Subsidiary. In other words, right hand man to Patriarch Akanaga."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'll be in your care."

  "Damn right you are," he grumbled. "Gettin' up whenever you please… dunno which high school you fell out of, but the stakes are a teensy bit higher out in the real world."

  Erina bristled but kept her composure calm. "I wasn't given a time of arrival—"

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  "Then ask your superior!" he barked. "And if you don't got one, you better show up at the crack of dawn!" He settled back, scowling. "Patriarch Akanaga isn't here yet, but you're cuttin' it damn close. Best learn discipline yourself unless you want it taught to you."

  "…Thank you, sir." Erina bowed her head again. "I'll keep your advice in mind going forward."

  "Get behind the counter."

  She didn't ask questions.

  "Lieutenants' meeting going down in the back today," said Shimizu. "All you gotta do is stay here, stand around, look pretty, and don't slack off."

  Meeting between who? Erina didn't get to ask before the question was answered for her. Several sleek black cars with tinted windows pulled up to the store. A total of at least a dozen men in suits stepped out. Several carried umbrellas, still folded just on the off chance they were needed.

  Akira got out of her car and made eye contact with the two of them, her gaze frosty and serious. They bowed their heads, and she returned her attention to her company.

  Among the crowd, two men stood out. One was a tall, bulky man nearing Goukei's build, standing head and shoulders above the rest. His dark suit was perfectly tailored. His hair and beard were platinum blond, styled in a way that reminded Erina of a lion's mane. When he moved, it was swift and decisive. When he paused, perfectly still. Not a single movement was wasteful.

  The other was short and dressed in snowy white robes, long and flowing. Their hair was a mess of the same color that reached most of the way down their legs, blending with their clothes. Erina couldn't tell where the strands of hair ended and the ribbons and sashes began. Their eyes and most of the pale skin of their face were all hidden by their hair; Erina couldn't even tell whether they were a man or a woman.

  "Patriarch Yoshizawa Koji," said Shimizu, "and Patriarch Wada Kiyori. Respect them as you would our own."

  "Yes, sir," said Erina.

  The Kano Clan's three lieutenants engaged in a small discussion by the side of the road before Akira motioned for the other two to follow. They went around the side of the building and disappeared into the back rooms with their entourage in tow.

  The sound of a door closing made Erina start. Shimizu departed without saying a word. She almost made to follow before she reminded herself that she was told to stay put. Shuffling on the spot, Erina idled around at the register. Seemed like she had nothing to do but pretend to be a cashier now.

  …Boring. The television had nothing interesting on. She knew better than to look for a remote or go for her phone. The only thing Erina could really do was look around, but nothing of note looked back. Before long, she had resorted to staring at the clock and watching the second hand make its way around, one agonizingly slow circle at a time.

  The doorbell jingling brought Erina back to her senses. A glance at the clock told her she'd been as good as asleep with her eyes open for a few hours. A small group of boys around her age had entered the deserted pizza store—students, judging by their uniform.

  Their voices drifted over as hushed whispers. "C'mon, you were the one staring!"

  "How bad could it be?"

  "There's no way I could—"

  "You can do this, bro!"

  One of them was pushed to the forefront and found himself placed squarely in front of Erina. He looked like he wanted to melt back into the group at the first possible opportunity. His eyes seemed to go everywhere around the empty store before finally coming back to settle on the counter between them.

  Oh, right. She was supposed to be running the register. "Welcome," said Erina. "May I help you?"

  "Um… er, one p-pepperoni pizza, please," he stuttered out. His hands wouldn't stop fidgeting.

  Erina had to look up at the menu behind her to double check. "Will that be a medium or a large?"

  "Uh, how about a large?"

  Erina nodded.

  He nodded back.

  She waited.

  He squirmed on the spot under her eye.

  Stop that, she thought. You're making me nervous too. Suddenly, she had become acutely aware that the two of them had been standing around in silence for some time.

  "I-I'm Takeuchi Yuuta," the boy blurted out. The group of boys snickered. He shot them a quick look before turning back, cheeks reddening. "I mean, um…"

  "Emisane Erina," she said evenly. "It's nice to meet you. Please excuse me."

  The group descended on him as she ducked into the kitchen, no doubt for a round of heckling. She didn't really care what brought them here. Rather, why did any customers have to show up at all? This kitchen was as empty as the front! Did the fridge over there even have anything in it? She didn't know how to make a store-grade pizza!

  Erina exhaled, staring helplessly at the unhelpful kitchen before her. So this was her first real day on the job. For some reason, she didn't think signing that contract would mean baking pizza.