The autumn sun was blurry in the evening sky, sitting low like a dying ember — cold fire smudged across a bruised horizon, as though someone had quietly rewritten what a sun was meant to be.
"Victoria, take this galbi to that table with the two gentlemen!" the cook shouted over the clatter of dishes and chatter. His voice carried like steam — sharp, hot, and impatient. My legs obeyed out of habit; I'd been walking back and forth all day, and my feet felt like they were grinding down to bone.
"Uh-huh… tired," I muttered under my breath, "the pay's not half as mouth-watering as the food."
Balancing the plates, I made my way to the table.
"Miss, I'll have a bottle of sake, and the roghan josh with rice, please," said one of the men — his voice smooth, his hair black as lacquer, and his kimono a deep, almost luminous green.
"Right away, sir," I replied, nearly tripping over my own words.
Living in this world had long stopped feeling strange. The horns, the tails, the animal ears — all of it. What had begun as alien had turned into something like admiration, like art I'd grown used to hanging on my walls.
"Wow," I muttered when I reached the kitchen, "that guy's… quite handsome."
Kim, our head chef, raised a brow. Her long rabbit ears twitched like leaves in a breeze. "Oh? The one in the green kimono?"
"Yeah, that one," I said, instantly regretting opening my mouth.
Kim smirked, tying her apron tighter. She had the kind of grin that looked like it could cause trouble in several languages. "He's from the Hitsuji clan, I think. A doctor — maybe something I can use right now."
There it was — the glint in her eye, the prelude to disaster. "Can I give him the food when it's ready?" she asked, pouting in a way that probably worked too often.
"Fine," I sighed, "less work for me anyway."
I grabbed a few leftovers and stepped outside. The air bit colder than before, nipping through my sleeves.
"Brrr… guess winter's closer than I thought," I murmured, blowing into my hands. "Mǐ, where are you?"
The cat hadn't shown up in three days. Not since that night with the thunder.
"Who's Mǐ?" a voice asked behind me — smooth, relaxed.
I turned, hand on my tantō — only to let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you, Uaham."
She smiled softly, her presence warm in the crisp air. "You looked ready to gut someone," she teased.
"We're packed tonight," I said, exhaling. "Why're you out here?"
"Needed fresh air," she replied, stepping closer, her honest eyes catching mine. She placed a finger lightly on my lips. "Were you looking for that cat again?"
"Yeah. You've seen it?"
"No. But it'll come back. You and your weird naming sense though."
"What's wrong with Mǐ?" I muttered as she walked back inside, her laughter trailing like perfume.
I looked down at the scrap of fish in my hand, then up at the darkening sky. "It's been three days since I last saw him…"
"Victoria! Get back in here — we need more hands!" someone shouted from inside.
I left the fish on a crate and hurried back into the noise and warmth.
---
"Vicky, look!" Wúgū called as I scrubbed dishes. Her chocolate-brown rabbit ears flopped in rhythm with her excitement. "Isn't that a member of the Shuǐlóng Zú? I think it is!"
I didn't even look up. "I thought you and Kim were flirting with the guy from the Hitsuji clan?"
"I was," she pouted, "but then his guest came. Guess he was waiting for someone and not just a handsome loner."
I turned, curiosity getting the better of me. The guest was tall, serene — with small dragonic horns peeking through midnight hair, and eyes like polished jasper.
They looked our way.
For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe.
Then I ducked behind the counter like I'd dodged a bullet.
"Right… qi is a thing," I whispered.
Wúgū's cheeks glowed pink as she peeked again. "He's beautiful," she sighed, her ears twitching like antennae catching a dream.
I rolled my eyes. "To think I once believed she was innocent," I muttered, slipping back into the kitchen.
Outside, the noise began to die down. Curfew hour crept closer — you could feel it in the way people's footsteps grew sharper, faster.
"Who'd have thought," I murmured to myself, "one dead foreign marquis could raise prices this high and shut a whole city down early."
By the time we closed, the streets were almost empty.
---
"See you tomorrow!" Wúgū waved, arm linked with Uaham's as they disappeared down the opposite street.
The night air was sharp enough to sting. Shops were closing one after another, shutters slamming like punctuation marks.
A voice cut through the quiet:
"Miss, where are you off to?"
A soldier stepped from the shadows — uniform crisp, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The gun on his back glinted faintly under a street lantern.
"Home," I said evenly, "just finished work."
He nodded. "Curfew's near. Be careful."
His gaze lingered a moment before drifting aside — toward another figure sitting near the edge of the road.
Long black hair tied in a loose bun, white robe flowing like mist.
I followed his glance and felt my pulse tighten. A man like that didn't belong in this street — not with half the military crawling around.
"I see," the soldier murmured, stepping aside. "Good night."
"And you," I replied, bowing slightly before walking on.
My eyes flicked once more toward the robed stranger. He sat unmoving, like a brushstroke in moonlight.
"I can't sense qi," I thought, "but anyone wearing white this openly isn't trying to hide."
I turned toward the hill, the shrine's outline faint against the deepening blue.
The wind carried a scent of incense and frost.
"I hope nothing serious happens with this fallout," I whispered — though it sounded less like a wish, and more like a plea the night would never answer.