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She could spend all day in here.
The shop is warm and inviting, a perfect refuge from the frigid cold of early December. Its interior is bathed in golden yellow light, wafting with the strong scent of freshly brewed coffee. Rows and rows of multicolored books stretch on endlessly, wrapping around the corners of the store space to disappear into hidden hamlets. It’s a labyrinth made of paper and ink, and Ochako wishes she could get lost in it.
Shops like these are getting rarer in the human world, from what she hears. She can’t imagine why. She was over the moon when she found this one. They’re her favorite kind of place: so many things to discover - and most you’d never even know you were looking for.
She wanders down the long aisles, skimming the spines of the books with her fingers. Somewhere in the fiction section, a book with a pretty red cover etched in gold filigree catches her eye. Pulling it off the shelf, she flips through, curious about what kind of story such a beautiful book contained.
A pair of voices breaks her from her thoughts. Ochako spins around, glancing at the aisle beside hers. The shelves between them are only waist-high - a display table for new releases - allowing her a view of the shoppers passing through on the other side.
The voices belong to a mother and her young daughter, making their way through the store in flurried haste. The mother’s entire expression is a fatigued sigh, punctuated by worry lines. Her daughter, on the other hand, looks fresh and energetic, bouncing on her heels as she follows down the aisle. The girl carries a small hardcover book with a dark maroon cover, brandishing it to her mother as she walks. “But Mom,” she protests. “It’s been weeks. I’ve waited long enough.”
Intrigued, Ochako turns around and starts to follow them with her eyes, burying her face in her book to avoid suspicion.
She isn’t very successful. As soon as the woman turns around to face her daughter, she glances Ochako’s way, making eye contact with her and glaring.
Getting the message, Ochako swiftly spins on her heels and buries her face even farther into her book, her face heating up like a wildfire.
Behind her, the woman and girl continue their conversation. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” the mother says. “I just don’t think I can make it work this time around. We’ve still got the electricity bill this week, and…”
“Okay,” the girl’s solemn voice interrupts her. “I understand.”
Carefully glancing around the corner, Ochako watches as the girl trudges over to the young adults’ section, returning her book with a defeated sigh.
Ochako frowns. Making her way to the opposite end of the store, she hides her lips with a cupped hand and mutters something under her breath, carefully glancing around the shop to check no one is watching.
A few moments later, she makes her way back to the mother and daughter, waiting patiently while she flips through a new book.
Seconds tick by. A strange look flashes across the mother’s face, as if she’d suddenly recognized a long lost relative. “Actually, you know what,” she says, rummaging through her purse. “I just remembered I might have a little left over from… well, it doesn’t matter.” She pulls out a handful of bills triumphantly.
The daughter’s face brightens into a smile. She darts over to the young adults’ section and reclaims her book.
Putting a hand over her daughter’s shoulders, the woman gently shepherds the girl over to the register, relief settling over her features, mixed with a twinge of confusion.
Ochako grins, setting down her book and reaching for a new one.
“You shouldn’t have done that, you know.”
Ochako gasps and whirls around, accidentally knocking into a nearby shelf and casting a handful of paperbacks to the ground. She stoops down to gather them up. “Damn you, Hitoshi. Look what you made me do.”
A tall boy dressed in a long coat and layered blacks looks down at her cooly, tilting his head as he watches her scoop up the books. His curious expression is framed by a halo of messy violet hair, flying out in all directions, Beethoven-esque.
Anyone in this realm would probably assume he dyed and styled it, but Ochako knows better: that’s his natural hair. “You need to learn how to, y’know, make some kind of noise when you walk up behind someone. So you don’t completely spook them.”
“That’s hardly the most important problem here,” Hitoshi retorts. “Besides, what kind of noise do humans make when they walk exactly?”
Ochako stands up and glares at him. “I don’t know, footstep noise?”
Hitoshi sighs and starts to make his way down the aisle. “We should go home, before you try and pull any more of your nonsense.”
With his back turned, Ochako sticks out her tongue at him, but she doesn’t protest. Replacing the last of the books she’d knocked off the shelves, she follows him down the aisle and out the door, back out into the blustery streets.
XXX
It was Ochako’s idea, of course.
She’d been pitching it for a while now, wearing Hitoshi down until he eventually agreed. All her life, she’d been curious about the mortal realm, wishing she could experience it for herself, rather than simply watch it through some secondhand spyglass.
Ochako is a witch - and not just any witch. She is the daughter of the Supreme, next in line to rule over the entire realm. As such, she isn’t allowed many of the same freedoms as her subjects, instead spending most of her time preparing for her future role: attending ceremonies, studying up on all branches of the dark arts, sitting in on council meetings… It made her feel coddled, less like a princess and more like a prized pig getting fattened up for a holiday feast. For a long time, she’d been itching to escape, even if just for a little while, and now she’d finally gotten her wish. Even better, she’d managed to convince her familiar to come with her.
Not that he had much of a choice - familiars are contractually obligated to follow their witches wherever they went, even if they went to the one place witches aren’t allowed to go. Hitoshi had always been particularly protective of Ochako, and he’d been haranguing her ever since they arrived in the mortal realm to keep a low profile, only relying on magic when it was absolutely necessary.
Despite Hitoshi’s constant worrying, things are going pretty smoothly so far, by Ochako’s account.
Shortly after they’d arrived in the mortal realm, a quick internet search revealed a pair of job openings at a local coffee shop called Sugar & Spice, just a few blocks away from their new apartment. It isn’t like they needed jobs - Ochako had ‘borrowed’ plenty of money from her mother’s vaults - it was more for the experience. She’d always loved the idea of coffee shops.
“How do I look?” Hitoshi asks, stepping out from behind the coffee shop’s counter and fiddling with his uniform: a black knee-length apron tied over black pants and a crisp white dress shirt.
Ochako looks him up and down and grins. “Not bad, for such a stick-in-the-mud.”
Their shift leader is coming in a bit late, and the two of them had been instructed to make the most of the little training they’d had so far to get the shop up and running on their own. With the help of a little magic here and there, Ochako and her familiar have been managing just fine.
Hitoshi ignores the jab and tugs at a wide black headband stretched over his wild violet hair. “Are my ears sticking out?”
“Hmm, a little bit.” She walks over and helps the taller boy pull the headband over the tufts of purple fur still peeking out from beneath the fabric. “There. All better. Now you can totally pass for a mortal.”
As a familiar, Hitoshi is able to shapeshift between cat form and human form, but the latter still comes with certain drawbacks. Namely, a pair of tufty violet cat ears and a long fluffy tail. The tail is easy enough to conceal, but the ears prove a bit trickier.
Despite her reassurances, Hitoshi keeps fidgeting. “Are you sure? Maybe I should have bought a bigger headband. What if it comes off while I’m working?”
Ochako flicks him playfully on the forehead. “That’s what I’m here for, dummy. I’ll make sure it doesn’t come off. If it does, I’ll just cast an amnesia charm on anyone who sees.”
Hitoshi just grumbles.
“Is any of my witchiness sticking out?” Ochako asks, grinning wickedly and giving him a turn. She’s wearing one of her favorite black dresses under the apron, the one with a full A line skirt and a crescent moon keyhole cutout just beneath the neckline - not that anyone can see under the apron. It had taken a herculean effort on Hitoshi’s part to convince her not to wear any of her crystals.
“Don’t joke about this. It’s serious. You could wind up in a lot of trouble if you’re caught outside the realm. It violates the conditions of the treaty. Not to mention, if your mother found out...”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ochako pouts, jutting out her lower lip playfully. “You know, sometimes I wish I’d walked right on past that soggy cardboard box I found you in, all those years ago. Would’ve saved me a lot of headaches.”
Hitoshi grins slyly. “You mean it would have caused you a lot of headaches if you hadn’t. Just think of all the trouble I’ve gotten you out of since you found me.” His smile drops, replaced by a lattice of worry lines wrinkling across his forehead. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
“Of course, you big doof,” Ochako replies, punching him gently on the shoulder.
A few moments later, their first customer walks into the door, a haggard businesswoman with circles under eyes that looked like they hadn’t seen sleep in months.
“Hello, hello! Welcome to Sugar and Spice,” Ochako greets. “What sort of potion can I brew for you today?”
Behind her, Hitoshi covers his face with his hand and sighs.
XXX
A few hours later, their shift leader, Hanta, finally makes an appearance. He apologizes a hundred times over for being late, but Ochako and Hitoshi immediately get the impression that this isn’t the first time he’s been tardy - nor will it be the last. Regardless, they forgive him for it, saying they’d held out on their own pretty well so far.
They spend the rest of their shift following Hanta around and learning all the ins and outs of the coffee shop, including the house gossip. Their shift leader does his best to give them a brief introduction to all their coworkers.
“Kyouka’s the branch manager,” Hanta says, leading the new recruits into the storage room. “She’s also the lead singer of a punk band. She’s got a massive sarcastic streak and a penchant for giving pretentious businessmen their change in pennies when they piss her off.” The boy cracks open a box, showing Hitoshi and Ochako the different varieties of coffee beans housed inside. “She’s got a soft spot for one of our regulars though, a slender college student with long silky black hair. Lately she’s got a taste for peppermint mochas.”
Ochako and Hitoshi glance at each other, not sure what a peppermint mocha is.
“Then there’s Fumikage,” Hanta continues, moving to another part of the storage room to show them the extra syrups and gluten-free supplies. “He’s another member of Kyouka’s punk band. He looks kinda menacing when you first meet him, but he’s a bit softie. And he’s really good with kids - sneaks them candy when he thinks Kyouka isn’t looking.”
Next, Hanta shows the two where they can hang their coats and punch in when they first arrive for their shift, patting the shelf above one of the hooks. “Mashirao is the most approachable barista by far. We usually schedule him for the afternoon shifts. The teens coming home from school love him.” Hanta leans in closer and holds a hand to his mouth. “Don’t quite get why though. He’s kinda boring.”
Leading them back out to the front of the store, Hanta moves to the cappuccino machine and leans on it with one of his elbows. “Then there’s me. I may always be late, and I may not even know how to properly work this thing,” he says, pointing at the cappuccino machine. “But I make up for it with my disarming good looks and wicked charm.”
He places his forefinger and thumb under his chin and waggles his eyebrows. Ochako laughs, while Hitoshi rolls his eyes.
A few moments later, another slew of customers trickle in, and the two resume their first shift.
XXX
Working as a barista is a lot more exhausting than Ochako expected, but that doesn’t curb her enthusiasm for it. Throughout the day she does her best to greet every customer with a warm smile. Sometimes she even earns them back.
As the daughter of the supreme, Ochako was expected to uphold a particular decorum: politely interested but enigmatically aloof. Engaged with her subjects and fellow witches yet constantly reminding them of the difference in status between them. She was endlessly scolded for being ‘too familiar’ with those beneath her. It makes Ochako want to rip her hair out.
It’s also what makes working as a barista so appealing to her. She could talk to people at their level.
Not to mention, she really loves learning to make all the different kinds of drinks. Mochas, cappuccinos, flat whites, green tea smoothies... All jokes aside, they really are a lot like potions: they come hot or cold, mixed with a particular ratio of ingredients that could be tweaked to the maker’s liking, and they are expected to have a lasting impact of sorts on the drinker. The only difference is that the side effects of coffee don’t vary quite as much, as she learns. It’s more or less expected to give the drinker a bout of energy, maybe with a twinge of anxiety. It makes her want to experiment…
“Absolutely not,” Hitoshi says.
She and Hitoshi are making their way back to their apartment after closing out the shop for the day. It’s only late afternoon, but the winter sky is already dark, casting very little light on the city streets, with the reflective snow twinging everything in melancholy blue.
Ochako glares up at him. “Hey, I thought you promised never to read my thoughts.”
The boy just shrugs. “That was in the witch’s realm. I think my privileges deserve to be reinstated while we’re slumming it out here. To help keep you out of trouble.” He sticks his hands in his pockets, looking back at her. “Besides, this way, you don’t have to whisper conspiratorially about weird incriminating shit in the middle of our shift and risk everyone seeing.”
Ochako shoves him. “It’s not like I can mentally announce when I want you to read my mind, you dingus.”
Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. “Oh. That’s a fair point. I guess.”
She laughs at him, linking her arm with his as they continue their way down the street, completely oblivious to the blush that blossoms across Hitoshi’s cheeks and the stares they start to attract from passersby.
If she had her way, she would never leave.
XXX
The two of them share a cozy apartment on the top floor of a nearby complex. Ochako had insisted it be on the top floor: she liked being as high up as possible. She also made quick work of the place, filling it with all the comforts of home she could cram into the space. Potted plants line endless shelves, accented by the occasional glass bottle filled with various liquids in every shade of the rainbow. Ochako had also insisted that the place have as much natural light as possible - even taking the liberty of performing some magic-fueled home improvements and knocking out a few extra windows.
The apartment itself is a quaint little studio, but thanks to a few enchantments, Ochako had managed to double the number of rooms, adding an extra bedroom and a greenhouse - for all the plants she couldn’t quite cram into the sitting room and kitchen.
The extra bedroom is for Hitoshi, of course - not that he uses it much. He prefers to sleep in cat form, at the foot of Ochako’s bed, curled up on a pillow. According to him, it was safer that way. It would help him respond to potential threats faster. Ochako only half believes him. She knows part of his motives likely stem from his past. He didn’t have many friends as an alleycat in the witches’ realm, and now that he did, he had an aversion to being left alone, even if only a room away.
Not that she ever called him on it.
XXX
Over the next few weeks, Ochako and Hitoshi settle into a comfortable rhythm: waking up early for their shifts, slogging their way through the bleary winter streets, exploring the nearby shops, and getting to know their regulars and coworkers -- all the while making sure to keep their true identities under wraps: Ochako watching to make sure Hitoshi’s ears never poked out of his headband, and Hitoshi shooting Ochako warning glances whenever she tried casting a hex on a rude customer.
They get to know their coworkers better, eventually getting a chance to work shifts with each one. They’re quickly adopted into the coffee shop’s little family, and apart from the occasional innocent question about where they’re from or where they went to school, their coworkers respect the pair’s desire for privacy.
For the most part, anyway.
XXX
“So… are you two dating?”
Ochako spits out the toffee nut latte she’d been sipping on, spewing the sugary drink across the countertop. Wiping her mouth, she gapes wide-eyed at Kyouka. “No, of course not! What the heck gave you that idea?”
Kyouka leans against the countertop with her elbows, unfazed by Ochako’s theatrics. “Well, the two of you are living together, right? Plus the guy practically never lets you out of his sight. He follows you around like a lost puppy.”
Well, you got the wrong animal there, Ochako thinks. Reaching for a rag to clean up her mess, she shrugs. “Just because we live together doesn’t mean we’re dating. We’re just… roommates. And he’s just a little… shy. He’s not a big fan of strangers, so he tends to stick close to people he knows.”
Kyouka rolls her eyes. “Sure,” she drawls sarcastically.
Ochako slams down her rag, putting her hands to her hips and turning to face the other girl, doing her best to control the blush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s right. There’s absolutely nothing else going on, okay? So just don’t worry about it, alright?”
Her coworker laughs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you so worked up about it. I’ll quit asking, I promise.”
Picking up her rag, Ochako gives a soft “hmph” in response before resuming her vigorous scrubbing.
A few moments later, Hitoshi returns from his trip to the storage closet in the back, his arms laden with boxes of coffee and a la carte snack items. Making his way past the two girls, he pauses when he catches sight of Ochako’s fiery red cheeks. “What the heck happened?” he asks.
“Don’t worry about it!” Ochako exclaims, her pitch raising to a squeak.
Hitoshi stares at her for a solid couple of seconds, as if debating whether he should press her further or not. Ochako prays silently that he doesn’t decide to employ his telepathy. He shrugs, walking with his boxes to the front of the counter. Once his attention is diverted to restocking the front end display, Ochako shoots her wily coworker a threatening glare, daring her to reveal their secret.
Kyouka chuckles darkly, but otherwise keeps her mouth shut.
XXX
It had just rained. Her umbrella is still laced with droplets. Puddles reflect the dying, golden light of the summer afternoon sun, finally showing its face after the clouds had cleared away. She makes her way down the sidewalk, her footsteps echoing slightly as they ricochet off the surrounding buildings. Everything in the realm is surprisingly still. The usual bustle of this part of the witches’ capital had cleared away to take shelter from the storm, and in the aftermath, the world is still holding its breath.
She stops, pausing to tilt her head to the side and listen. Peering down the dark crevice of a nearby alley, she hears it again: a faint rustling sound, followed by a loud crash.
Against her better judgement, she decides to investigate. Tightening her grip on her umbrella, she edges down the alley, watching for the slightest hint of trouble. Despite the darkness of the narrow street, she doesn’t sense any negative energy. Instead, the air is heavy with a profound sense of loneliness.
She hears the rustling again, this time much closer. Spinning on her heels, she uses her umbrella to knock a cardboard box off a pile of trash and reveal the source of the sound.
It’s a small, scraggly cat.
It blinks up at her with hungry eyes. They look disproportionately large on the thin, starved frame of the shivering animal. Its tufty, medium-length fur is patchy, entirely missing in places, and coated in a filthy layer of grime. The cat holds a shaking paw close to its body, as if cradling it. It looks like the limb could be broken or sprained.
She feels her heart clench at the sight of the pitiful creature. “I thought we got rid of all the street cats…”
The cat mewls at her, loud and full of pain.
She glances around the alley, conflicted. Her mother would never let her keep a street cat, but she can’t just leave it here. It looks two breaths away from death.
Sighing, she stoops down and gathers the creature in her arms, brushing off as much of the dirt as she could. Beneath all the filth, its fur is a nice bluish violet color: fluffy and surprisingly soft. Conjuring up a carrier, she eases it gently inside, careful not to jostle its broken leg too much. Once the cat is tucked away, she shrinks the carrier down to the size of a matchbox and slides it into her bag, turning and striding out of the alley with a renewed sense of purpose.
Ochako wakes from the dream with a start, rubbing her eyes and blinking at the moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window. She sits up in bed, glancing around the room in the confused halfway state between sleep and consciousness. Feeling a warmth against her leg, she looks down to discover Hitoshi had transplanted himself from his pillow at the foot of the bed to a space at the edge of the comforter, right up against her calf.
She smiles, reaching down to pet her silly familiar.
XXX
“Well look who finally decided to show up,” Hanta greets Ochako when she arrives at the coffee shop on a particularly blustery winter morning.
Ochako tries to scowl at him, but can’t help but slip into a smile. “Wow, I can’t believe the resident delinquent managed to make it here before me. Enjoy it while it lasts, pal. This is the last time that’s ever happening.”
“Sure sure,” Hanta replies, waving a hand. His smile drops. “Where’s Hitoshi? Aren’t you two usually a package deal?”
“He’s out sick,” Ochako says, turning and hanging up her coat and scarf to hide the blush on her face. “I had to practically tie him to the bed.”
Hanta laughs. “Sounds about right,” he says. “Now can you help me with the cappuccino machine? I think it’s busted again.”
“You mean you busted it,” Ochako says, glad to shift the conversation into someone else’s embarrassment. Tying up her apron, she makes her way over to help her clueless coworker.
It’s a quiet day at the coffee shop, for the most part. Since it’s a Saturday, they don’t get the usual rush of commuters in the morning. Instead, it’s a steady trickle. Ochako and Hanta are grateful: since Hitoshi had called in sick on such short notice, they weren’t able to find a replacement in time, and it was just the two of them for the day.
Just as they’re about to start closing, however, a woman in a long winter coat walks in, rubbing her hands together to revive them from the cold. Upon a closer look, Ochako realizes it’s the college student that Kyouka has a crush on: the tall, slender young woman with dark brown eyes and a long black ponytail. She looks a bit disheveled. It surprises Ochako. She’s normally so composed.
“Will you be open for much longer?” she asks the two baristas.
Ochako and Hanta exchange glances. There’s a strange look in the woman’s eyes: something frantic. She’s doing her best to hide it, regarding the two of them calmly as she makes her way into the shop, stopping to brush the early winter snow from her boots.
“Uh, actually we were just about to close up,” Hanta says.
The woman stops, casting her eyes to the floor. “Oh, I’m very sorry. I’ll be on my way then.”
“Wait!” Ochako cries.
But the woman doesn’t even pause, turning on her heels and making her way swiftly out of the coffee shop. Through the glass windows, the baristas watch her hurry the street, hunching her shoulders against the cold.
“I should go after her,” Ochako says, untying her apron and reaching for her coat.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Hanta says, putting out a hand to stop her. “She looked a little shifty to me.”
Ochako looks at him, confused. “Shifty how? It looked to me like she was trying to run from something. She kept glancing around.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly why I think she’s up to no good,” Hanta replies. “She gives me weird vibes. I don’t care that Kyouka has a crush on her.”
Ochako continues putting on her coat. “Well, I’m gonna go check, just to be sure.”
“I really wouldn’t,” Hanta pleads. “Besides, your boyfriend would kill me if I let something happen to you the one day he isn’t here.”
Ochako’s face erupts into a deep shade of crimson. “Hitoshi’s not my…”
“Well, whatever he is to you, I’m sure he wouldn’t like you sticking your nose into trouble any more than I would. So please, Ochako. Don’t follow her.”
She pauses, studying Hanta’s concerned face. She returns her coat to its hook. “Fine. I won’t follow her. Let’s just try and get the shop all packed up for the night.”
Hanta grins, happy to have finally won her over. “Sounds like a plan.”
They spend the next few minutes in silence, fluttering around the shop and making sure all the countertops and machines are cleaned and switched off. Ochako double checks the inventory while Hanta empties the cash register. They take turns sweeping the floor.
As soon as she and Hanta go their separate ways, however, Ochako immediately turns and heads after the woman.
XXX
It doesn’t take Ochako long to find her. After just a few minutes of walking, Ochako traces her to the back of winding alley way in a block not far from the coffee shop. She’s talking with a man in a long black coat, and she doesn’t seem too happy about it. From this distance, in the dying evening light, it’s hard for Ochako to make out the woman’s face, but at the very least, she can tell she isn’t where she wants to be.
Ducking behind a dumpster, Ochako keeps her eyes trained on the pair, watching for the first sign of trouble. She wracks her brain for a plan, something that would get the woman out without revealing Ochako’s secret identity.
The man reaches out and slaps the woman across the face, the force of the blow throwing her off balance and casting her to the grimy pavement.
Before she has a chance to think, Ochako leaps out from behind the dumpster. “Hey, asshole!”
The man glances up, regarding her with a cool, unbothered expression. “What have we here? A little spy? Did you bring along a little sister, Momo?”
Pushing herself up from the pavement, the woman looks over at Ochako, her eyes widening in horror as she recognizes her. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come.”
“No, you really shouldn’t have,” the man sneers, sliding out a handgun from one of his pockets.
Seeing the gun, Ochako raises her fists and conjures up a slew of fireballs, lighting up the dim alleyway with their unearthly pink flames. Hanta was right. She shouldn’t have come. There’s no option now but to fight her way out - and reveal her secret in the process. It’s all or nothing.
Momo’s mouth drops at the sight of the floating flames, but the man’s expression doesn’t change. “A little lights and magic show, huh? You think that’s going to save you?”
Ochako snarls, casting one of the fireballs at the man’s face.
He dodges it easily, keeping his gun trained on the witch. “Very impressive. But can it protect you from one of these?”
He fires.
Before Ochako has a chance to react, a blur dashes through the alleyway, running straight into the witch and knocking her to the ground, extinguishing her fireballs in the thin layer of snow. Rubbing her head, Ochako looks up to see what had saved her.
It’s Hitoshi.
He stands with his feet spread and his arms outstretched, shielding Ochako from the man with the gun. His headband had slipped off in the rush to protect her, cat ears exposed for the world to see.
Ochako gapes open-mouthed at her familiar, then scowls. “What are you doing here?!” she shouts. “You’re supposed to be at home in bed!”
Hitoshi glances at her over his shoulder. “And you’re supposed to stay out of trouble. I leave you out of my sight for one day, and look what happened.”
The man doesn’t wait for them to finish their argument. He fires again, barely missing Hitoshi’s ear. Hitoshi charges him, tackling him to the ground and wrenching the gun from his hand. With the man pinned, Hitoshi snarls in his face, baring his fangs and daring him to make another move.
“Look out, there’s more of them!” Momo cries.
Sure enough, a group of men slide out of the shadows, fixing their guns on the boy pinning their leader to the ground. “Hands up, you mangy cat,” one of the growls.
Hitoshi only growls back, shoving the leader’s face in the snow and causing him to let out a groan. The second one of the men fixes their gun on Ochako, however, he smashes the man’s face against the pavement, knocking him unconscious, and leaps up, charging at the group head on, a blur of black and violet. Guns fire in all directions, but the familiar is moving so fast the men can barely see him. One by one he hits them full force, clawing at their throats and leaving them gasping for air in the snow.
He keeps this up for quite a while, taking on all the men at once and preventing them from moving any closer to Ochako or Momo, but eventually they overwhelm him with sheer numbers. One of the men catches Hitoshi from behind, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him off balance while the rest of the men gang up and pin him to the ground.
Ochako takes a few steps forward, summoning her fireballs and holding them at shoulder level, ready to hurl them at her familiar’s attackers.
One man holds up a hand. The others drag Hitoshi into a kneeling position, keeping his hands pinned behind his back. The standing man holds his gun to the boy’s temple. “Make one more move, and I’ll blow your feline friend here straight to hell.”
Ochako stops, weighing her options. She glances from the man to Hitoshi and back again.
“Listen to him. He’s not bluffing,” Momo says.
The witch extinguishes her fire, letting her arms drop to her sides. “What do you want from us?”
The man shrugs. “Initially, we were going to kill you -- eliminate the liability, you understand -- but after seeing what your friend can do, we might just be willing to make you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Ochako snaps.
“Let us borrow your friend for a bit, and we’ll let you live.”
Ochako glares at him. “What are you going to do with him?”
“Oh, keep him as a pet. He’d probably make a nice bodyguard. Or we could just stick to plan A and kill you all right now,” he replies, digging the muzzle of the gun into Hitoshi’s temple.
“Take the deal,” Hitoshi pleads through gritted teeth.
“Why don’t you want me instead?” Ochako asks, her voice wavering slightly. “You’ve seen what I can do too. I know magic.”
The man laughs hollowly. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen plenty of magic in my day.” To prove his point, he holds out a hand. Before their eyes, the flesh gives way to shadow, turning black and translucent. “And I gotta say, yours isn’t that impressive. So, what’s it gonna be?”
Hitoshi looks at her with solemn eyes, silently begging for her to walk away. Ochako feels a pang of guilt tear through her chest. This is all her fault, after all. If she had just listened to Hanta… better yet, if she’d just listened to Hitoshi and been more cautious in the mortal realm to begin with… maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess.
“Alright,” she says, hanging her head. “You can have him.”
“Good choice, sweetheart,” the man rasps. Nodding at his companions, they sweep up their leader’s unconscious body and slide their way back into the shadows of the alley, dragging Hitoshi by the hair along with them. A few seconds later, it’s as if they never existed at all.
Ochako collapses to her knees, feeling the tears start to swell. They spill out in waves as she pounds the snow soaked ground with her fists. She stays like this for a while, a lonely girl in an alleyway beating the ground and cursing herself, half-wishing she hadn’t come to the mortal realm at all.
Momo makes her way over, kneeling down beside her. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
Ochako snaps upright, eyeing the woman with a renewed fire in her tear-stained eyes. “No, it’s my fault. But I think I know how you can help me fix this.”
XXX
The two girls lie crouched on the rooftop of a grimy, dilapidated building, The darkness makes it hard to see, but there’s just enough light pollution emanating from the distant city to make the shadowy edges of things visible. They peer down at the abandoned warehouse next door. Or what looked like an abandoned warehouse. According to Momo, it was anything but.
Squinting her eyes, Ochako can just make out a pair of guards pacing the snowy ground just outside the warehouse’s front entrance. They’re dressed entirely in black, with long, billowing coats, just like the shadow men from the alleyway. The only difference is these two are carrying much bigger guns.
Ochako takes a deep breath and looks over at Momo. “Okay, let’s do this,” she whispers.
Momo gives her a firm nod.
Reaching into the bag she’d brought from her apartment, Ochako pulls out a handful of glass orbs, radiating with pale light in the darkness. She hurls one of them at the far corner of the warehouse down below. Upon impact, the glass ball detonates, releasing a powerful blast of blue energy and decimating the building’s aluminum walls. Without pause, she launches another one, taking another bite out of the warehouse.
She glances at the guards. They’re looking towards the source of the blast, but they haven’t budged. Sighing, Ochako reaches into her bag and pulls out a slightly larger orb, this one glowing with magenta light. She lets it fly, this time aiming for a spot slightly closer to the guards.
Upon impact, this orb releases the largest explosion yet, punching a gaping hole in the side of the warehouse and leaving a few stray flames behind.
That one finally gets their attention. The guards finally leave their post, jogging over to investigate the aftermath.
“Wait a second. There should be more of them,” Momo warns.
Sure enough, a few more men emerge from the inside of the warehouse as well, charging over to the site of the explosion.
Once the attention of the shadow men is solidly diverted, Momo picks up a grappling gun and proceeds into the second part of their plan, firing a harpoon into the side of the building and creating an instant zipline. Tugging on the line to test it, Momo slings a handhold over the wire and hooks her legs over the side of the rooftop. She jumps, flying through the air between the two buildings until she lands on the glass roof of the warehouse.
Ochako follows swiftly behind her, slinging her bag of magic orbs across her shoulders and leaping over the side of the roof. She lands neatly beside Momo.
Once they’re reunited, they carefully make their way over to the other side of the building, treading softly on the roof to avoid the echo of their footfalls. “Are you sure this part will be deserted?” Ochako whispers.
“Positive,” Momo replies.
The witch takes out an orb and chucks it at their feet, shattering the rooftop with a crash and sending them through to the ground below.
They land just a few feet away from the gaping barrel of a gun. The guard holding it smiles at them wickedly and flicks off the safety.
“Almost positive,” Momo says.
Without hesitation, Ochako chucks an orb to the floor, its impact releasing a cloud of billowing blue smoke that fills the room, obscuring them from the view of the guard. Once it clears, the guard is facedown on the ground, sprawled out with his gun lying a few feet away. Ochako picks up the gun and hands it to Momo. “Here, this might be useful.”
Momo stares at the witch with her mouth agape, taking the offered gun. “Where was that back in the alleyway?”
Glancing around, Ochako leads them out of the room and down a dimly lit hallway dappled in the greasy light of a few dangling lightbulbs. “I’m a witch, not a miracle worker. My specialty is potion making. I didn’t have any potions on me at the time.”
“Well, I’m definitely glad you have them now,” Momo replies, following her down the hall with her new gun slung across her chest.
Momo takes the lead after that, ushering Ochako through the maze of grimy hallways lined with unfinished walls strewn with exposed wiring and tufts of feathery yellow installation. She edges forward into the very depths of the place, holding her gun at the ready. Ochako follows close behind, hands raised at shoulder level with a colored glass orb clasped in each.
It doesn’t take them long to find Hitoshi. He’s in a room by himself, lashed to a chair at its center, a single industrial light swaying overhead, bathing the space in ghostly blue light. He doesn’t look too good. His head lolls to the side - conscious, but just barely. A dog muzzle is tied across his face, probably to prevent him from biting his kidnappers.
Ochako’s eyes well with tears. This is all her fault.
She shakes her head, tearing herself away from the thought. There’s no time for that now. Cautiously, she and Momo creep their way into the room, watching for the slightest hint of movement. This all seems too easy. There should be at least some guards who stayed behind. Where are they?
Hitoshi’s head snaps up. Catching sight of his two rescuers, he strains against his bonds, struggling to speak through the gag stuffed in his mouth.
A second later, the girls see what Hitoshi had been trying to warn them about. The leader of the shadow men slides out of the shadows with a subtle sneer on his face. He strides behind Hitoshi’s chair, resting his hands on the back. “I thought there might be a rescue attempt.”
“Step away from him,” Momo grits, aiming her gun at the man.
“Or what?” he asks, pulling out his handgun and digging it into Hitoshi’s temple.
“Or this!” Ochako shouts, leaping out from behind Momo and spilling the rest of the orbs from her bag. They scatter across the cement floor. One by one, the glass balls shatter on impact, releasing billows of smoke that completely consume the room. Holding a scarf up to her face, Ochako reaches for Momo’s hand and drags her to the middle of the room, searching for Hitoshi in the fog. Pouring a vial of acid onto his bonds and muzzle, she releases him from his chair.
As soon as he’s freed, Hitoshi transforms into his cat form and leaps into Ochako’s arms. The three of them are out of the room before the smoke has a chance to clear. With Momo in the lead, they race out of the dilapidated warehouse, not stopping until they’re several blocks away from the hellscape.
Once they’re in the clear, they pull into an alley, tucking themselves behind a dumpster and allowing themselves a chance to catch their breath. Hitoshi transforms back into his human form, and Ochako leans him carefully against the alley wall, studying him carefully for signs of injury.
“It wasn’t worth… exposing yourself to save me,” Hitoshi slurs, still fighting off whatever drugs the shadow men had pumped into his system.
The witch laughs weakly. “Are you still going on about that?”
Hitoshi coughs. “I’m a familiar. It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around. I’m… expendable.”
Ochako leans down, laying her forehead against his. “Not to me you’re not.”
XXX
“So I guess this is goodbye?”
Ochako clasps both hands around her coffee mug, bringing it up to her lips and taking a sip of her latte. Setting the mug back down, she stares at the swirling pattern in the foam, contemplating Momo’s question. “I hope not,” she answers, without looking up from her drink. “But I guess so.”
The two of them are sitting at a table in Sugar and Spice. Ochako’s last shift had just ended, and she invited Momo over for a coffee date before she started packing up her apartment. The table is next to a window, allowing a clear view of the wintry streets outside, already looking dim in the fading afternoon sun.
“My mother wasn’t too happy when she found out about our little raid,” Ochako continues. “Apparently some idiot with a smartphone managed to capture the blasts from the fireballs, and now it’s all over the internet.” The witch lets out a long sigh, gazing out the window. “It’s going to take a lot of legwork on our part to keep this under wraps.”
“You mean on the witch realm’s part?” Momo asks.
“Yeah. It’s not like this is the first incident we’ve had. We’re pretty good at tying up loose ends at this point,” Ochako replies, taking another sip. Just outside the window, she watches as a mother and daughter make their way down the street. As they pass the coffee shop, Ochako realizes it’s the same mother and daughter she helped in the bookshop, when she’d first arrived in the mortal realm. “But it will be a lot of work,” she continues. “And I can’t stay.”
“I see,” Momo says quietly. She reaches out a hand and lays it over Ochako’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “At the very least, thank you for everything.” She lifts up her coat, revealing a bag full of Ochako’s magic orbs tucked under her arm. “Thanks to you, I’ll never have to worry about that awful syndicate again.”
Ochako smiles, squeezing her friend’s hand back. She tilts her head, remembering something. “Also, about them… we may have to do some digging on that particular group as well. I have no idea how, but they were definitely using some kind of magic to slide in and out of the shadows like that, which means they’re either expatriates or mortals messing with something they shouldn’t. Either way, the supreme is going to want to do something about it.”
Momo’s eyes light up. “Does that mean you’ll be back?”
The witch smiles ruefully. “I don’t think so. After this little stint, Mother’s probably not gonna let me out of her sight anytime soon.”
The two of them are interrupted by Kyouka, who places a tray of baked goods on their table. “Some extra treats to go with your coffee,” she says.
“Oh, why thank--”
But before Momo can finish, Kyouka turns swiftly on her heels and makes her way back to the counter, sliding behind the display cabinet to continue cleaning.
“That was very nice of her,” Momo says, reaching for a scone.
“She’s got a crush on you, you know.”
Momo’s jaw drops, her scone stopping midway to her mouth. “I had no idea…”
“Really?” Ochako says, laughing. “I thought it was pretty obvious. You’re one of the few customers she’s actually pleasant with. Plus her face lights up like a Christmas tree every time you walk in.”
The dark-haired girl smiles. “Well, that’s fortunate, because I kind of like her too.” She takes a bite of her scone. “Speaking of pretty obvious, when are you going to admit to your feelings for that familiar of yours?”
Ochako’s face flushes scarlet. She takes another sip of her latte, letting out a breath before answering. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But how the heck do I tell him? What if it makes things weird?”
“Trust me,” Momo says, smiling. “I don’t think it will.”