Chapter Text
It began with a strike of lightning.
The following downpour turned the evening from gray to even grayer, and LycoReco Cafe stood empty at the corner of their already rarely-frequented street. Well, empty save for two people.
“Can we close up already?” whined Chisato, bored out of her mind as she rested her chin on her palms, elbows on the counter. “I don’t think anyone’s coming in for a Kurumi-special in this weather.”
Mika hummed in thought. “Let’s give it ten more minutes. Maybe it’ll clear up.”
Chisato looked at her wristwatch — half an hour more until closing time.
“Fine, fine,” she agreed after some consideration, then idly looked at the TV running ads, only to catch the channel turn to static five seconds in. “Woop, lightning must’ve caught a tower or something. Do you think they’ll cut the electricity?”
He sighed, sitting in his usual chair with an air of ‘I am waiting to close up just as much as you’ about him. It was Sunday, and they had Mondays off. “That hasn’t happened in a while,” he said.
“But it’d make for a pretty nice atmosphere, wouldn’t it? I could get some candles, make it all cozy and romantic…” she trailed off. “Hey, Mika, do you think you could cut the electricity on purpose sometime when I invite someone over? I’ll pretend to be very shocked, but I’ll have everything prepared.”
She felt him shift more than saw it. “Is there anyone you’d invite?” he asked. “Anyone…specific?”
He was trying so hard not to come on too strong with those things. Trying to hide he was interested. She couldn’t hold it in.
She exploded in laughter, then patted him on the back. “I’m not the type of annoying daughter to keep you in the dark about that, come on! Nah, haven’t really been looking. It’ll come to me on its own when I least expect it, amiright?”
He smiled up at her. “You’re too good to this old man.”
“What are you talking about?! You’re in your prime!”
Thunder struck particularly close, the resulting rumble seemingly shaking the very foundations of the building.
“Oh, I love those,” she said past the shudder that went down her spine. It wasn’t letting up at all, and it’d almost been ten minutes. “I think that’s my cue. Closing time!” By the end of that statement, she’d barely heard herself speak, with the torrential rain that started hitting the side of the cafe in a way that made a completely absurd amount of noise. Mika only nodded, which was all she needed anyway.
Closing the cash register, mopping the floors, and all the other routine things she always did upon closing later, she was nearly done. The rain only made an understandable amount of noise against the windows now, and in the end, seven exceptionally loud thunderstrikes — she counted — were all they got out of the storm. The electricity was still there, and the TV was still on the Static Channel. She grabbed the remote and turned it off.
Now to take the trash out back and she’d actually be done.
“Don’t you want an umbrella?” Mika asked.
“No hands free!” she called back over her shoulder while pushing the door open with her hip, letting it swing shut behind her. It was only a few steps outside, she could deal with the weather for that long. And after she was done with that she’d take her bike and go back to her apartment as soon as possible, rain or no rain. She had one of those huge, yellow, water-proof overcoats. And then she’d take a steaming hot shower—
She dropped both of the trashbags from her hands and stared in horror at the crumpled figure leaning against the wall of their shop, right between the two dumpsters she stood in front of. In the dark, the streetlamps reflected off of every wet surface, confusing her eyes, but with the added context of what she was looking at, she pieced together that there was blood getting washed down the nearby drain, streaming neatly from the body.
It moved.
She took an instinctive step forward. “Are you—”
Violet eyes snapped open and she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun, sights aimed directly at her face. “Leave,” the person said. She was dressed completely in black and clutched her stomach with her other arm. She was also completely drenched.
Chisato raised her hands up on reflex. “You’re bleeding out behind our shop,” she said as calmly as she could. “Let me help.”
There was a slight shake to the arm that gripped the gun. They held each other’s gazes for a long time—or, at least to Chisato, it felt like it’d been a long time. Seconds were so long now.
With an even shakier exhale, the stranger slipped her finger off the trigger and dropped her hand unceremoniously to her side, gun included. “The bullet went clean through.” She breathed in, then out, wincing before she spoke again. “Might be non-lethal.”
“Alright. I’m going to call—”
“No!” she yelled, eyes wide. “You can’t call anyone. You can’t.”
Chisato eyed the gun. “Okay,” she said. She had to be quick with this, even calling for Mika might be too much under these circumstances. “Okay. I’ll take you inside. Do you think you can manage a few steps?”
A slight nod, and Chisato dropped one knee into a puddle and worked her way to help the stranger stand upright, then supported her weight as much as she could, which turned out to be much easier than she’d thought — she was pretty light, though her legs were definitely not doing much in terms of support. It reminded her a bit of guiding a drunk Mizuki out of the shop and into a taxi.
She pushed the door open once more, now with significantly more difficult cargo — thank whatever gods were up there for double-hinged doors — and made Mika drop their old telephone at their no-doubt wet, sorry sight, the handset dangling uselessly down the wall.
“Found a stray,” Chisato said in an attempt at humor that surprised even herself. Must’ve been the shock. Then she noticed that the body she was holding up went a bit too limp. One look at the stranger’s face confirmed that she had indeed passed out.
Then the power went out.