"This is a war crime," Neila announced.
"It's a burger place."
It was exactly the kind of place Hoshimi had expected, a bright fluorescent lights, plastic seats bolted to the floor, a menu board displaying pictures of food that looked nothing like what actually arrived on the tray. The smell of frying oil and artificial sweetness hung in the air, thick enough to taste.
"Augh." Neila picked up the menu with two fingers, holding it like it might contaminate her. "I'm not eating here. I have standards. This dirty little place. Never in a million years would I have thought to ever come here."
The government witches took up positions at the entrance and near the counter, their eyes scanning the room with professional paranoia. The other customers, a few early lunch stragglers, a group of teenagers skipping school, an old man reading a newspaper in the corner, pretended not to notice them.
"What are you going to order?" Hoshimi asked her.
"Nothing, I'm going to go wash my hands. My hands must be contaminated from the dirty menu."
"Then I'll do it for you."
Edward sat at the edge of the seat, his metal legs stretched awkwardly into the aisle. He didn't pick up a menu. Didn't look at anyone. Just sat there, his dark eyes fixed on the table's surface, his hands resting flat on his thighs.
Lucy sat beside him. She didn't pick up a menu either. Her crimson eyes drifted to the window, to the gray sky, to the nothing she'd been watching since the chamber. Her empty sleeve hung motionless.
The server who approached their table was young, maybe nineteen, with dark circles under her eyes and a name tag that read "MARLA." She looked at them with the same expression everyone else had been wearing: fear, disgust, pity, all mixed together into something that made her voice waver.
"Can I... take your order?"
"Chocolate milkshake," Hoshimi said. "And fries."
[This is one of the few places that will actually let witches eat here. She's probably going to starve if she tries to eat anywhere else]
"Um." Marla's pen hovered over her notepad. "Okay. And for... the rest of you?"
Hoshimi ordered a burger. Kira ordered the same thing, her voice barely above a whisper. Edward didn't respond, just sat there, staring at nothing, until Marla awkwardly moved on. Lucy didn't respond either.
"Two more hamburgers," Hoshimi said. "One for him, one for her. And another chocolate milkshake."
Marla nodded quickly.
"This is humiliating," Neila muttered. "I'm being served by peasants in a restaurant that probably hasn't been cleaned since the last century. My ancestors are weeping."
"Your ancestors are dead."
"Lucky them."
The food arrived. Burgers, fries, drinks in waxed paper cups. The teenager set them down with trembling hands and retreated quickly, clearly eager to escape whatever strange tension surrounded this booth.
Hoshimi picked up his burger. It was too big, too greasy, too much. He took a bite anyway. The taste was exactly what he expected: salt and fat and the faint chemical sweetness of processed cheese.
Kira watched him eat. Her own food sat untouched in front of her. "Is it good?"
"It's food."
She nodded slowly, as if this were profound wisdom. Then, with visible effort, she picked up a single fry and put it in her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. "It's... okay."
Neila's fries were, against all odds, fresh. She examined each one with the critical eye of a jeweler appraising diamonds before deigning to eat. The chocolate milkshake sat there.
"I'm not eating it," she declared.
"Just eat it."
"Abso-fucking-lutely not."
Hoshimi grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed it into her mouth.
"Eat up."
"Fhiuck Phyou!" Neila squirmed, trying to get the cheap and oily taste out of her mouth.
Edward ate mechanically, his eyes still fixed on nothing. Lucy didn't touch her food at all.
The government escorts maintained their positions. The other customers came and went, their eyes sliding over the group of witches with that same familiar expression before they hurried out the door. The fluorescent lights hummed. The fryer sizzled.
Neila's phone buzzed, still throwing up the fries onto the ground.
She glanced at it. Her expression flickered, just slightly, just enough for Hoshimi to notice. Then she pocketed it.
"Problem?"
"Nothing important." Her voice was too casual. "Just one of my people. Apparently it's father's business.."
"Your father's business?"
Her eyes flickered to him, sharp, assessing. "What do you know about my father?"
"Nothing. That's why I'm asking."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she wiped her lips with a napkin she pulled out from her purse. "My father," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear, "is a very wealthy man. Our family has a way of stabbing people in the back, to ensure that no one stabs them instead."
"Uh huh. I can tell."
"And now he's gotten rather greedy." She picked up a fry, examined it, and set it down again. "The reason I'm telling you this is for you to aid me, you still owe me some favors after all. Anyways I have people who keep me informed. One of them just told me that my father is planning something."
"What is it?"
"Have you heard of the Prisoner's Dilemma?"
"No, not really."
"The reason the great families have enough money to fund themselves is because they have a joint monopoly in trading magic tools. No one else has the means to produce them after all."
"No wonder they're so rare then."
[Even Miss Reina hesitated on giving me one because of their rarity.]
"In a joint monopoly, it only takes one member to betray the agreement to destroy the high profit margin. What my father plans to do is to take away the source of the magic tool production site. There's only one in the entire world after all."
Hoshimi absorbed this. "That's... ambitious."
"It's stupid." Neila's voice was sharp. "The Walkers, Millers and Smiths aren't stupid. They'll figure it out eventually. And when they do, they'll come for him." Her blue eyes met his.
"So, what do you plan to do about it?"
"Obviously, to leak it to the other families. But not for free, I'll make a profit off of this." She smiled, not her usual sharp smile, but something smaller, more tired. "All I need are the documents, I could've asked you to do it but since you're under surveillance 24-7, I doubt you're fit for the job."
"Then what do you need me to do?"
"My father will send people after me when he realizes that I'm the one leaking it. I've only told you about it, and hiring bodyguards will be useless since his force is bigger than whatever I can buy with money."
"So you want him to think that you're protecting me, and while pretending to aim for me, they'll aim for you."
"I need his guard to be down, to make him think that I'm not worried about him."
"So you want me as a bodyguard."
"Yes."
Sam approached them, his expression carefully neutral. "We're moving in five minutes. I think you should finish up by now."
Hoshimi looked at his half-eaten burger. "Fine."
He walked back.
They ate in silence for a while. The restaurant hummed around them, the fryer, the fluorescent lights, the distant sound of traffic. Kira finished her burger and pressed closer to Hoshimi's side. Edward still hadn't moved. Lucy still stared at nothing.
Neila watched Sam go, her eyes narrowing. Still picking at the fries.
"This patrol," Neila said quietly. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"
"Figured what out?"
"Don't play dumb." Her blue eyes met his. "We're out in the open, if they really wanted to keep you safe, they would've locked you in the basement, we're not here to protect you. We're here to draw them out. The people who want you dead. The assassins, the foreign agents, the rogue factions. You're bait."
"Of course I know that," he said quietly.
[If they wanted me to be gone then]
He stared down at the bracelet.
[They would've made me completely hide my mana]
Neila nodded. "Someone wants you dead. Multiple someones, probably. The Smiths. The Walkers. Maybe factions from other countries who don't want another Sophia Miller emerging from Hex Academy." She stared at her drink. "The government knows this. They're waiting for someone to make a move. When they do, they'll swoop in, capture the assassin, and use them to trace back to whoever sent them."
"I already figured it out, the moment I was given this 'task'."
"And you agreed to it?"
"I didn't have a choice." His voice was flat. "Neither do you. Neither do any of us, we're witches."
Neila's expression didn't change. But something in her posture shifted, a subtle relaxation.
"I thought so." She picked up her milkshake, took a long sip.
She leaned back in her seat. "So what's our actual plan?"
"Our actual plan?"
"The one that doesn't involve us dying in a fast-food restaurant while government goons stand around looking serious." She tilted her head. "I know you, Hoshimi. What are we going to do?"
Hoshimi looked at her.
"I'll find some way, I just haven't thought of any."
At her sharp blue eyes. At her carefully composed face. At the way her fingers were drumming against the table, the only sign of tension she allowed herself. "Bullshit."
"Everyone here is still functional."
"Kira," he said quietly. "How far can you spread your gas?"
"Um." Kira's voice was small. "Maybe... thirty meters? If I really push. But it gets thin at the edges."
"Edward." Hoshimi didn't look at him. Didn't expect a response. "He can transform parts of his body into existing objects. He might not be talking, but he's still functional."
Edward's dark eyes flickered. Just slightly. Just enough.
"Lucy." Hoshimi's voice softened. "I know you can hear me. Your blood manipulation. You can still use it. One arm is enough."
Lucy's reflection in the window blinked. Slowly. Deliberately. Her remaining hand twitched at her side.
Kira's grip on his sleeve had tightened to the point of pain. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. "This is stupid. People are trying to kill you?"
"It's okay," Hoshimi said automatically.
"It's not okay!" Her voice rose, drawing glances from the other customers. "It's not, you can't just, they can't."
"Kira." He turned to face her fully, his violet eyes meeting hers. "I know. But panicking won't help."
She stared at him, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize."