Chapter 4

“Tony went through with the protocol, everything should be fine on that end. Clean up will continue as planned.” Vicenza said, hands held behind her back stiffly. “Law enforcement seemed to fall for the ruse of a break-in, but they’re using it as an excuse to poke their nose around from the last incident. As such, Solo Mio will rotate out of active use as a meeting spot until the heat is off. Again.”

“So you failed.” Were the simple words out of her bosses’ mouth, smoke swirling in contemptuous patterns as she exhaled.

Vicenza grit her teeth so hard she thought they’d chip. She couldn’t say the other woman was wrong – not just because it would be disobedient, but because she absolutely right . It had occurred to Vincenza before that Magical Starry had been tracking her based on power use, but somehow she had never considered that’d tip the nuisance off to one of her own properties.

Taking her silence as assent, the shadowed woman continued. “I told you, didn’t I? You should have listened.” She said, an almost motherly tone in her voice.

“I thought –“

“You’ve learned better than to ignore me now, yes?”

Vicenza bit her tongue, trying to come up with a good response. The glint in the other woman’s eyes suffered no dissent. “… Yes.” She finished, finally.

“Good girl.” The woman said, smiling softly in the halo of smoke. “You’ve got more important things to deal with than this girl. You already selected the first of your assistants, didn’t you? Give him the ring, and let him take care of such petty matters.”

The silence was the only resistance she could give, words caught in her throat like ash.

“You’ll do it, won’t you?” The woman asked, an edge to her sweet voice. “You’ll give him the ring?”

Vincenza let go of the breath she held. There was no other choice. “I will.”

If things went smoothly, this would be a temporary annoyance at most. And they will go smoothly, if - she thought, a pain growing in her temple - if Magical Starry listened to my warning. If the kid is smart.

Somehow, Vincenza wasn’t convinced that would be the case. ⋆

“Good morning!” Dawn chimed as soon as Hoshiko shuffled into the room. True to her name, she was as much of a morning person as ever, happily cooking eggs with no hint of exhaustion. Thinking of it, Hoshiko wasn’t quite sure if she’d ever seen Dawn acting anything less than energetic at any time of day.

Suddenly a touch jealous, Hoshiko grumbled a response and flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. Even after a night’s sleep, lugging her body around still felt like a chore. Breakfast, at least, wasn’t a proper dining room affair. Feeling decidedly improper, she rested her chin on the table and looked around at the room.

“Vincenza not coming down?” She asked duly, knowing the answer.

Dawn shook her head and flipped the eggs with a practiced grace. “She said was working late last night.”

“Figures,” Hoshiko grumbled.

“You figure. Personally, I can never get a handle on her schedule.” Dawn replied, pouting slightly. Thinking for a moment, she turned around and looked seriously at Hoshiko, as if scrutinizing her for something.

Hoshiko sat up, suddenly worried. “Is something wrong?”

“Your clothes.” Dawn said, still looking her up and down. Hoshiko looked down herself. She was wearing normal clothes for a day’s work, as far as she was concerned. T-shirt, jeans, house slippers – after she ate, she’d slip on the apron hanging in the kitchen closet and get to work. Finding nothing unbuttoned or backwards, she looked up at Dawn again.

“I guess she was wrong, huh?” Dawn said, hand on her hip. Hoshiko stared a little longer, prompting for more explanation. “Yesterday at dinner, Zietta said something about how she thought you’d dress up cute today.”

Hoshiko made the connection and her cheeks immediately began to burn. “Goddamn pervert.” She grumbled, dropping her head back on the table. Had that idiot really expected Hoshiko to treat that thing as a uniform? “Ignore her. I’m dressed just fine for the job I’m performing.” Which isn’t “stripper,” thank you very much.

Looking slightly disappointed, Dawn turned back to her eggs. “I’m not quite sure I get it, but I’m glad you’re getting along better with her now.”

Hoshiko blew a raspberry. “Both of you have pretty weird definitions of ‘getting along,’ but yeah, we… talked it out.” If it could be called that. As unsettling as that conversation was, it wasn’t the one she was worried about. She blew her hair out of her face, trailing a hand down to pet Blair as he walked under her chair.

Dawn sat the plate of hot eggs and bacon in front of her. “Well, as my mother used to say, all steps are progress!”

Hoshiko let out a long sigh. It was a sentiment right out of a postcard, but it was probably the only advice she was going to get on the matter. “Thanks,” she said, giving a weak smile and starting on her breakfast. Dawn giggled as Blair jumped onto the table, and slipped him a few crumbles of bacon.

A knock on the wood of the kitchen doorway drew the two’s attention. “I told you, if the cat’s going to eat at the table, at least give it a plate,” Vincenza said, a half-smile on her lips. The dark circles under her eyes told Hoshiko she wasn’t the only one still feeling the effects of last night. ( Though that bastard , she thought , probably doesn’t feel as much like she got hit by a truck .)

“Zietta! You’re awake!” Dawn exclaimed, jumping up. “Oh, sorry, I’ll make you some too—”

“No need.” Vicenza said, waving her excitable niece off. “Coffee’s enough today.” That, at least, Dawn had made plenty of. She made a beeline for machine and poured herself a cup.

“You have work this morning even though you worked late last night?” Dawn asked, worriedly watching her aunt chug down a full mug of completely black coffee without a flinch.

“It seems like an emergency came up.”

Hoshiko covered a smirk up with a cough and rolled her head the other way. Emergency indeed.

Dawn must have made a particularly compelling pouty face, because Vincenza chuckled bitterly. “Don’t look at me like that. It happens sometimes in this line of work. The law waits for no man, and all that.”

“Seems to me it should make an exception for overworked aunts,” Dawn mumbled.

Vincenza laughed. “I’ll let it know you said that, then. But for now, work.” She downed the rest of her coffee and poured a second cup into a thermos. “Not wearing your new outfit today, Hoshiko?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Hoshiko grumbled, more on grumpy instinct than anything else – and then winced, peering back over at her employer.

Instead of the expected chastisement, she got another laugh. “See, you learn fast!” Vincenza said cheerfully. She dropped her hand on Hoshiko’s head and mussed her hair affectionately. “That’s what I want to hear.”

“Really, that’s what you want? ‘Go fuck yourself,’ first thing in the morning?” Hoshiko asked dryly.

Vincenza shrugged. “Well, how else do you handle morning wood?”

“Ziettaaaaa,” Dawn complained, tapping her foot in embarrassment.

“Right, right, I’ll say gross aunt things out of your line of hearing next time.” With that, Vincenza capped her thermos. “I’m leaving now, see you two later.”

“Have a good day at work!”

“Bye.”

The door slammed after her. Dawn smiled and finally sat down with her food, giving Blair another crumb of her bacon. Hoshiko started eating again too.

“Still, it’s good you’re getting along finally. For real this time.” Dawn continued, as if there was any more to say.

Hoshiko sighed. “If you really want to call it that.”

“You are! That’s just how Zietta is, you know.”

Hoshiko didn’t reply, taking a bite of the thick bacon.

“Can I see that cute new outfit she mentioned?” Dawn asked, innocent as ever. Hoshiko nearly choked on her food, scaring Blair off the table.

“N-no way!”

“Ehhhh, why not?”

Hoshiko’s deceptively simple day continued like this. Chatter with Dawn, until they separated to do their separate jobs. Clean the house, ignoring the ache in her limbs. Wait on the laundry, ignoring Blair’s attempts to get her to chat more about last night’s situation.

“You know you’ll have to deal with this tonight.” Blair said, watching Hoshiko stare into the spinning washing machine.

“Are you going to make me patrol tonight?” She asked, frowning at their distorted reflections. “With these injuries and 4 hours of sleep?”

He hesitated. “… I won’t make you, tonight. But tomorrow --”

“Will you make me patrol tomorrow night?”

Blair gave a long-suffering sigh. “I can’t make you do anything, Hoshiko. I’m a cat.” His tail twitched in irritation. “But you have to think about this. You can’t hide forever.”

“You weren’t there,” Hoshiko said, turning her gaze to the floor. “It wasn’t even a fair fight. Up until now, she’s just been playing with me. But last night…”

She faded off, remembering those last words. There was no doubt in her mind – Vincenza, given the chance, could and would kill her. Hoshiko pulled her knees up to her chin.

“I know you’re scared, but this has always been a dangerous job. Even back in Oomachi –”

“Oh, and that went so well.” Hoshiko spat in return. “I nearly ruined the whole thing, and that was as part of a team , with a full fucking library of information about the enemy! Here, I’m totally alone, against someone we barely know anything about. It’s impossible, Blair!”

She realized a bit too late that she’d raised her voice, the words ringing in the bare space of the laundry room. She shrunk.

“… Are you giving up, then?”

When Hoshiko looked up, Blair was staring her straight in the eyes. She softened, sighing deeply.

“I’m not saying that.” She said quietly, shoulders sinking as her gaze returning to the floor. “I just… don’t know what I can do anymore. I’m out of my league.”

They sat there for a while in silence, listening to the whirl of the washing machine.

“Hoshiko, do you remember the job of a magical girl, as it said in the contract?” Blair asked patiently.

“To use the powers given to us by the Purity Gods of Oomachi to protect the world from the threat of the Decay Kingdom.”

Blair shook his head. “That is in the stipulations, yes… but that isn’t your defined ‘mission.’ Do you want to see again?”

Mumbling a few words in an ancient language, Blair’s eyes started to glow a bright blue in the dim room. From a bright, starry mist, a scroll formed and fell gently to the floor. As his eyes faded, Blair nudged it open awkwardly with his paws. Hoshiko helped him. It had always struck her as strange that her gods had given him the power to summon her contract, but not the dexterity to open it on his own.

“ The Signed Below is entitled, upon signing, to receive the Powers listed below, in return for Services listed below Rendered to the Junshinmuku ...” Hoshiko read, frowning at the stiff language. The only evidence this contract was about her was the signature she’d scrawled at the bottom two years earlier. Oomachi’s gods were so disconnected from the humans they sent to fight for them, she was surprised even they managed to write up an explanation of the duties at all. Just thinking about it dug up old frustration and upset.

“It’s this part here,” Blair said, poking a few paragraphs down with his paw. “ The services rendered must include, at base, even in "Peace", a general trend towards Reduction of Corruption and Realization of their own Personal Variety of the base element "Purity" whenever possible. Improvement upon this ability is expected; if honest effort is put forth, one is allowed to continue to struggle towards this goal as long as they may live. However, as to reward Realization, the closer one comes to their Personal Variety of Purity, the stronger one's power may become.”

“So don’t give up girls, we have participation trophies for everyone.” Hoshiko deadpanned, frowning.

Blair tapped his paw. “Stop being such a pessimist and think. What is a reduction in corruption?” Hoshiko stared blankly at him for a moment. Trying to read this mess felt like an exam. “Okay, let’s try again. What have you been doing since you got here?”

“Other than getting my ass beat?” Hoshiko said, sighing heavily. “Look, I get that fighting Vincenza is ‘reducing corruption’ or whatever! She’s still—"

“Is Vincenza the only thing wrong with this town?”

That question finally got her to pause. “… No. I suppose not.” Grande City wasn’t a peaceful place. She’d witnessed all sorts of terrible things on the street, and the newspaper didn’t paint any prettier a picture. She vaguely remembered hearing they had one of the highest rates of crime in the country. The police tried to dress it up for the paper, pointing to their success at keeping organized crime out - but that didn’t change things for most people. Humans stole, raped, and killed just fine without anyone organizing them do it.

“Before you got caught up chasing Vincenza, we spent some time trying to deal with normal crime. There’s still plenty of that to work on. You don’t have to put yourself back into danger like that, okay? As a magical girl, you can always just focus on your own Realization.”

“That’s a funny word for kicking the shit out muggers.” Hoshiko said, looking over the contract again.

“Realization is much more complicated than fighting enemies, and you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She said, not looking up at her pouting cat. (It was an impressive trick, but she’d seen him do it many times before.) “Just saying it’d be great if you could just give me some hints on how I’m supposed to do that instead of vague spiritual advice.”

Blair sighed. “I know… but they didn’t give me that information. It’s an answer you have to find yourself. Sure, it’d be great if the Gods gave me some clues to work with, but you can’t really argue with—”

“Wait!” Hoshiko said, cutting off Blair’s grumbling musing by shoving the contract in his face. “This last sentence here, that’s about upgrades, right?”

Blair batted the paper back with his paw to get a better look. “To encourage Realization… Yes, that’s about upgrades. The closer you get to living your Personal Variety—”

“—the more power I get.” There wasn’t an official term for the process, but the girls had always called it a ‘upgrade.’ They knew it had something to do with realization, nebulously – at certain points, you’d get a jump in power, a new spell, and a nice touch-up to your costume. There were at least 3 levels of it that she knew of. Back in Oomachi, she’d managed to get the first level, but… She grimaced slightly to remember. Now, she was just on the base level.

“If I fight corruption, that brings me closer to purity, right? They’re opposites, so it should work like that.” Hoshiko half-asked, half-stated.

Blair cocked his head, thinking. “I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, but… fundamentally, yes?”

“Then that’s just it!” Hoshiko said, grinning excitedly. “I can just deal with normal criminals and stuff until I’ve gotten stronger!” It was the most obvious solution. Just like a game - if you were too weak to beat the boss, you needed to go grinding, right?

“Uh.” Blair didn’t seem too convinced. “My point was more just doing good for good’s sake, but that works too.”

Hoshiko blew a raspberry. “Don’t make me sound like an asshole! I’ll be saving people either way.” The dryer beeped, and Hoshiko stood up to unload it. She couldn’t say the weight was off her shoulders, but she felt like she had a plan. It, combined with the smell of fresh, warm laundry, brought a little smile of hope to her face.

“Yeah. I can do that.” She said softly into the pile of sheets. Until she got stronger, anyway. ⋆

Around 5pm, the doorbell rang. By the time Hoshiko got untangled from the vacuum cords and came down to answer it, Dawn had already welcomed the guest in, chatting excitedly.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had dinner! Well -- proper dinner, anyway. I’m not sure if Zietta will be back though...”

“Stuck at work again?” Said a familiar voice. Hoshiko could spot the top of her strawberry-blond bun before she could see the woman herself. Miss Freeman stepped to the side to give Hoshiko her usual overpowering smile. “Ah, Hoshiko! It’s been a while.”

“It really has been,” Hoshiko said, blinking. It only now struck her she’d been here a full two weeks now. It felt like forever and no time at all at the same time. “You just, uh, visiting, Miss Freeman?”

“Oh please, you can call me by my name now. We’re friends, right?” Hoshiko stared, not sure when exactly they reached that level, or even the slightest clue of her first name. The other woman seemed to pick up on the second point, at very least. “Ah, pardon me. It’s Felicity.”

“Felicity.” Hoshiko repeated in confirmation.

“She’ll be staying for dinner!” Dawn said cheerfully, nearly bobbing on her feet.

“So that’s why you’ve been working so hard on t--” Before Hoshiko could finish the offending sentence, Dawn jumped to cover her mouth with remarkable speed.

“Don’t spoil the surprise!” Dawn pleaded, staring beggingly into Hoshiko’s eyes. She suddenly made note that Dawn wasn’t in her work clothes - instead, she was in a skirt and a low-cut blouse, the ladder of which was currently giving Hoshiko an eyeful.

“Fine, fine! I get it!” Hoshiko said, words muffled through the hot grip of her friend’s fingers, cheeks tinged red as she looked away for something else to look at. Satisfied by this answer, Dawn backed off.

Miss Freeman chuckled, giving Hoshiko a sly look that could only be returned by a grumpy frown. She turned to Dawn. “I’m glad to hear you worked hard for me, though. I’m excited to see what you made for me.” She said.

Now it was Dawn’s turn to blush. “It’s nothing really special...” she said, suddenly demure and fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Hoshiko connected the dots. “Uhm. I guess I’ll leave you guys to it then? Get back to... cleaning,” she stumbled, pointing backwards with no particular meaning.

“Eh? You’re not going to eat with us?” Dawn said, suddenly looking sad. Hoshiko gulped, looking to Miss Freeman for some backup.

“Ah, don’t worry about that. Dawn and I have plenty of alone time. I was hoping to catch Vincenza too, but it looks like there’s no luck there...” She said, trailing off. Hoshiko sighed. She was at least happy she hadn’t walked into a date, but it was still awkward to be the third wheel.

“And of course, I bet we can’t convince my sister to join us, either.”

Hoshiko blinked. “What?”

Miss Freeman smiled in her characteristic fashion - like she was trying very hard not to laugh about a joke only she knew. “You didn’t know? My sister is the other renter here.”

“Oh.” To be honest, Hoshiko had completely forgotten there was another renter. Dawn had mentioned it during their orientation, but she’d never seen any evidence of them. It hadn’t meant anything more to her at the time but another room she didn’t have to clean. “I’ve never met her, I’m afraid.”

“I haven’t seen her much myself.” Dawn said, tilting her head. “She isn’t much of a people person, I think...”

“That’s a polite way of saying it.” Miss Freeman said with a casual shrug. “Ada’s a shut-in, to be blunt. She was better when we were younger, but she’s always had to have things her own way. Everything has to be in order... and people don’t really fit well into that.” She looked a little sad, but mostly just resigned. “Once she established herself enough to stop having to deal with people, she stopped bothering entirely. I can barely get her to talk to me anymore.”

“Oh,” Hoshiko replied. Well, that explains things, but now I just feel bad for her...

Felicity waved off her concerns before she or Dawn could voice them. “Ah, don’t make those faces. I’m used to it. It’s her life to live as she pleases, after all.” It wasn’t exactly enough to shake the mood, so she continued - “How about we get to dinner, then?”

This seemed to distract Dawn at very least. “Right! You’ll love what I made.” She ran off to the kitchen, her enthusiasm dragging the other two with her. On the counter sat a meat and potato pie, the crust carefully woven into delicate plaits. Even having seen her work on it since lunch, Hoshiko was still quite impressed at the obvious skill put into it.

“It’s lovely, Dawn!” Felicity cooed. “You even remembered I love meat pies...” She pulled her phone (clad in a overly earnest kitten photo phone case) from her pocket and took a picture. “You did so well on all the braids, too! That’s so difficult to get right!”

“Ah, well, it’s really nothing. I just happened to want to try a new technique I found online...” Dawn said, rubbing the back of her head.

Hoshiko rolled her eyes. For now at least, she wouldn’t sell her friend out. “Still, it’s almost a shame to eat something like this.” She said, admiring the glossy egg-washed crush.

“Eh? It’s food, of course we’ll eat it!” Dawn insisted, opening the drawer to look for a serving knife.

“You’re so practical.” Hoshiko almost had it in her to be jealous. She would have at least taken longer to soak in everyone’s adoration. “Should I set the table?”

Dawn nodded, but before she could give details, Felicity butted in. “That huge old thing? Seems a bit big for the three of us, don’t you think?”

“Eh? But--”

“You’re going to say it’s the entertaining table and I’m a guest, right?” Felicity said. Dawn quieted, blushing. “Bullseye, huh? But really, I feel like I have to yell to be heard at that table. We can just eat at the kitchen table, can’t we?” Hoshiko was inclined to agree, but the question was clearly aimed at Dawn.

Dawn hesitated a little. “I suppose there’s no reason we can’t ... We just usually eat in the dining room. Zietta likes it. She says it’s a family tradition.”

“Vincenza’s not here tonight, though. Why don’t we mix it up a bit?” Felicity said, excitement twinkling in her eyes.

Dawn rolled her eyes, smile playing on her lips. “You and your mixing it up ...”

“You know me, honey,” Felicity said, grinning and plopping down at the kitchen table. Dawn set the pie in the center of the table and moved to get the sides. Suddenly aware a decision had already been made, Hoshiko rushed to help set the table.

Felicity had one thing right, at very least - sitting around the kitchen table was so much more comfortable than eating in the dining room was. Feet bumping under the table as they shuffled in, close enough to feel the steam from the pie as Dawn cut it into careful pieces... “homey” was the best word for it, even if she’d barely known either of these women for more than a month. Dawn served them each a slice of the pie, topped with a dollop of sour cream, and they poured their own lemonade from the pitcher.

Of course, the guest was the first to take a bite. Dawn, of course, wouldn’t take her eyes off her, anxiously waiting for a review - and Hoshiko, caught in the moment, quietly waited to see the response too. As she tasted it, a smile crossed her face. “Incredible!” she said. “You really are an amazing chef, Dawn! I haven’t had a meat pie this good in years!”

Dawn broke into the cutest blush, her entire face lighting up. “R-really? Ah, I’m so glad you like it!” She said.

“Thank you so much for giving it a shot for me. Honestly.” Felicity said.

“I- It’s really no problem! Oh, I’m just so glad you like it...” Dawn said, reducing into embarrassed mumbles by the end. Hoshiko smirked. Where did that “just trying a recipe” shtick go? She thought fondly, watching the two make googly eyes for a few moments before taking a bite herself. The crust melted in her mouth and mixed with the filling, juicy and perfectly savory. Felicity wasn't just sucking up to Dawn with her compliments; it was delicious. Before she could voice that, however, Dawn took a curious bite of her own piece, and bounced in her seat with delight.

“It’s good!”

“Like I said.” Felicity said, smiling patiently.

Dawn giggled like a schoolgirl - nervous but giddy. “Ah, yeah, but I had to check, just in case--”

“Would I ever lie to you, my dearest sunshine?” She leaned forward, and then reached across the table to brush the back of her hand softly across Dawn’s cheek.

Hoshiko coughed loudly, prompting Dawn’s cheeks to turn a bright pink. “If you two need some privacy, we’ve got plenty of rooms.”

Felicity brushed her off with a casual wave and light laughter, returning to her side of the table. “Sorry about that! Just a little carried away...” Hoshiko would argue it was more than a little, but she let it slide - good food did wonders for her mood. Blair wandered in from the dining room, casually rubbing against their legs as he settled down beside the table. Judging by his lazy gait and cute posing, he was hoping for scraps - but Hoshiko ignored him, taking a gulp of her lemonade.

“Delicious or not, I don’t think we’re going to finish this monster off tonight.” Hoshiko said, sizing up the remaining pie. Sure, she could probably pack in another piece after this, and Dawn was no light eater... but even that would leave a bit under half a pie left.

“Well, it won’t be as good as when its fresh, but it should make great leftovers.” Felicity said. “Vincenza can have some when she gets home.”

Dawn sunk a little in her seat, pouting. “Whenever that will be.”

Felicity sighed as well, shaking her head. “She really does work herself to the bone... It’s lucky you two are here to keep an eye on her. I can only imagine what she’d do on her own.”

“Instant ramen?” Hoshiko suggested. Dawn giggled, lightening a little - the image of Vincenza, in full suit and rings, microwaving noodles was funny enough to break through anyone’s worries, if only for a moment.

“I can’t blame her too much.” Dawn said, dragging lines in her remaining sour cream. “As much as I want her to take it easy, I know she has her reasons. Managing the firm, dealing with clients, running the charity...”

Hoshiko stopped mid-chew, swallowing a bit early. “Charity?” She probed.

The other two nodded. “Since the founder had a stroke last year, she’s been the acting president of the Wellsworth’s Children and Youth Fund.” Felicity said. “- I guess you didn’t grow up here, so you wouldn’t know of them. They mostly fund after-school programs and foster homes, stuff like that. They’re a great help.”

“She says she gives all the work to the chairsmen, but I’m not fooled.” Dawn grumbled, spearing her crust. “If all she did was hand over checks and look pretty, she wouldn’t need to be in their office so much.”

“Huh.” Hoshiko said. She took another bite. Some kinda tax haven or something? But Felicity seems to think it’s pretty legit... Maybe a cover-up of some sort? Of what? None of it quite came together. Somehow, the more she knew, the harder Vincenza was to understand.

Between snippets of casual talk, they finished their meals. Felicity, of course, insisted on helping them with dishes, and Dawn wanted to chat with her, so they ended up all working together - which of course, made things take much longer than they would have if Hoshiko had just did them along, but the other two seemed to be having fun, so she left it alone. After that, the two excused themselves, disappearing upstairs. Hoshiko could guess they went to Dawn’s bedroom, but didn’t want to ask. Or really think about it too much in the first place, to be honest.

Hoshiko hummed an old pop song softly as she cleaned the table, and then turned to the leftovers. She lifted two pieces onto one plate and covered it in saran wrap, then took a sticky note from the drawer and wrote Vincenza’s name on it. She could figure out the sour cream herself, she thought, sticking it in the fridge.

Two more pieces remained. Hoshiko stared at them for a moment before piling them onto a plate as well. Tomorrow’s lunch, maybe? Of course, they’d have to fight over it. Such was the issue of a 3-person household, she supposed.

An idea came to her suddenly. She dolloped a spoon of sour cream on the top and balanced a fork on the plate, and walked up to the third floor, knocking on the door she’d never bothered with before.

“Um... Hello?” Hoshiko said. Suddenly, standing there with food in hand, she kind of felt like an idiot. Felicity had just said that their other roommate was reclusive. Why would she answer the door for a stranger?

As expected, a minute of silence went by. Hoshiko exhaled. “Well, uh, Dawn made some pie. I thought I’d bring you it. I’ll -- uh -- leave it at the door, okay? Sorry to bother you.” She said, setting the food down.

Still, no reply. “Have a good night.” Hoshiko said, and walked away. Well, if it was still there when she went to bed, she’d put it away. Feeling her good deed was done for the day was done, she yawned and stretched her sore muscles for a few lazy moments before getting back to the last of her daily cleaning.

An hour later, she limped back up the stairs, feeling thoroughly beaten by a day of work and emotional revelations. Before she could even remember her earlier show of kindness, a paper balanced neatly in the hinge of her doorknob caught her attention.

On a piece of nice stationary, written in what seemed to be a calligraphy pen;

“Dear Hoshiko Yozora,

Thank you for the food.

~ Ada Connor” ⋆

Magical Starry was smiling as she touched down elegantly to the building roof. “That was a good one!” She said brightly.

“I can’t believe you actually made him pee himself in fear.” Blair said, more disgusted than surprised. “You really have outdone yourself this time.”

She knew it wasn’t a compliment, but her grin only deepened. “What can I say? I’m just that good.” More importantly, the display of power that provoked that pants-wetting fear was absolutely on point. Sure, scaring the piss out of muggers wasn’t too hard for someone with superpowers, but that didn’t make the exhilaration of winning any less real. Besides, she was doing an excellent service - after witnessing a magic show like that, it was unlikely the man she saw today was going to try mugging someone in a dark alley again. A little bit of fear for your life could do wonders. (Probably. Hoshiko couldn’t say she was an expert in criminal psychology.)

Blair had one thing right - doing this the past week really had lifted her spirits. She couldn’t tell if she was really getting stronger, or closer to her “ideals” or whatever, but it felt good to succeed at something. It’d been a long while since Magical Starry was a force to be reckoned with - so long, she started to wonder if those old days of being an actual threat to evil had been nothing but a teenage illusion, caused by youth and nearby friends -

Starry took a deep breath and exhaled her thoughts to the night, visible in the late fall air. No, she wasn’t going to go there. She was going to accept tonight as a success, damnit. Nothing was going to change her mind.

“So Blair, should we stick around this area, or move over a few blocks?” The cat didn’t respond. Starry turned to him, to see the cat standing, bristling slightly. His blue eyes were wide, suspicious. “Blair?”

“I’m sensing a magical signature about a block west.” He said.

Her spirits capsized and sank immediately. “Shit.” They’d been careful so far to avoid Vincenza’s usual haunts, but the unspoken fear of crossing paths again had been close to Hoshiko’s breast this entire time. How did she get so close all the sudden? “Let’s head--”

“Wait.” Blair said, turning back to look at Starry. “I don’t think this is her.”

“What?” She swallowed, trying to pull her heart back out of her throat. “What do you mean it's not her?”

“It feels... different.” Blair frowned in thought, as best as a cat could. Back in Japan, he had been able to determine all sorts of details about the activities of the Decay generals. As long as active magic was being used, he could tell who was attacking, where, with how many monsters, and sometimes even how. Up until late in the effort when the generals started distorting magical signatures, Blair and the other guides had been an incredible strategic resource. Since arriving in America, however, those powers had become much less useful. His powers were built to detect the Corruption magic of the Decay in particular - while detecting whatever magic Vincenza used was within his skillset, he didn’t have near the range or definition. From what they had previously observed, it seemed his once city-encompassing radar had shrunken to ten city blocks, and provided only a location of active magic with no other details.

But they hadn’t had to deal with a who before.

“It’s probably a mistake.” Starry said, but something in her gut told her that that it wasn’t.

“Well if so, the mistake heading this way.” Blair said, meeting his owner’s eyes. Starry turned west, her eyes scanning into maze of alleys and shady side streets that made this part of the town. It wasn’t a nice part of town - it wasn’t the worst, either, but the poverty in the area tended to draw plenty of (mostly petty) crime. This time of night on a weeknight, it was dangerously quiet, almost deceptively safe ...

She saw something move. Something big, defined from the darkness of the night by only a wet shine that caught her eye for a brief moment.

And then, there was a scream.