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"Okay," Touma said, scanning the posted flyers taped along the station wall, "option one: deliver magazines on a bike with no brakes. Option two: hand out tissues in front of the arcade."
Kazuki blinked. "You're joking."
Touma pointed. "Nope. And this one is promising—'urgent need for fry cook, no questions asked.'"
Kazuki stared at the ad. "I don't know what concerns me more. The urgency or the 'no questions asked.'"
"Welcome to Academy City's underground employment scene," Touma muttered, sighing into his convenience-store tea. "Hope you're good with grease and broken dreams."
The two of them had spent the morning walking from one part-time posting to another. The problem wasn't Kazuki's willingness to work. It was everything else.
No student ID. No registry. No residence code. Not even a name on file.
He didn't exist in Academy City's system.
Which made hiring him technically illegal and practically impossible.
"So far, I'm 0 for 6," Kazuki said. "At this point, I might have better luck busking."
"Can you sing?"
"No."
"Then you'd just get arrested faster."
They kept walking. The sun was starting to lean west. Kazuki's shirt clung to his back. His brain wasn't exhausted, but his feet were starting to make complaints.
Then, like divine intervention—or a cosmic joke—they passed a corner café.
Cozy, stylish, with pastel signs and hanging flower baskets. A "Now Hiring" sign leaned against the glass door.
Touma looked at it. Then at Kazuki.
"It's gonna be the same story."
Kazuki shrugged. "One more can't hurt."
They stepped inside. The bell above the door chimed.
A woman in her late twenties looked up from the register. Black apron. Sharp eyes. Tired posture.
"We're open but closing in an hour. You here for coffee or for the job?"
Kazuki stepped forward. "Job, ma'am. I… don't have ID. Or documents. But I'm a fast learner. Clean. Respectful. Won't cause trouble."
She stared at him for a long second.
Then another.
Then glanced at Touma.
"Is he serious?"
"Unfortunately," Touma said.
She tilted her head slightly. Looked Kazuki up and down. Squinted. Then nodded.
"You've got the kind of face that brings in female customers."
Kazuki blinked. "I—I what?"
"You're hired."
Touma dropped his bag.
"What."
"Part-time. Start tomorrow. Shirt and apron provided. Don't be late."
"But—he didn't even give a resume!"
"He doesn't need one. Pretty boys are self-recommendations."
Kazuki turned to Touma, smug.
Touma looked like he just got slapped by a textbook.
"This city is cruel," Touma muttered, dragging himself out the door.
Kazuki followed, still a little dazed. "I didn't expect that to work."
"Oh, it worked. Worked so well it hurts. I've been trying to get a decent side gig for months. I do interviews, I fill out forms—and you walk in and get hired for having a face."
"I… didn't ask for this power."
"Too late. You've already stolen my part-time dreams."
They both laughed.
Kazuki felt something light in his chest. He didn't know what to call it. It wasn't victory. Not confidence either.
Just relief.
A step forward.
They crossed the plaza under a dimming sky. The orange hue of late evening hit the buildings just right, casting long shadows and painting the concrete warm.
Then someone screamed.
A woman. Down the block.
"Stop him! Thief!"
A blur of motion. A man in a red windbreaker shoved through the crowd, clutching a purse. He ducked into a side street, fast.
Without thinking, Kazuki stepped forward.
"Touma. There. The alley to the right. If he clears that wall, we lose him."
Touma was already halfway into a sprint. "I'm on it!"
Kazuki scanned the street. His brain flicked into overdrive. Numbers, angles, object mass—his vision layered into inputs like a computer solving a real-time equation.
He spotted a loose stone by the gutter.
Weight: 114 grams. Distance: 6.2 meters. Needed arc: 38 degrees.
"Touma! Grab that stone! Under the bench! Throw it at 1 o'clock, twenty degrees up—now!"
Touma didn't question it.
Snatched the stone, pivoted, and threw.
The rock arced through the air in a clean curve and slammed into the thief's ankle mid-sprint. He tripped, hit the pavement hard, rolled once, and dropped the purse.
The crowd gasped.
Kazuki jogged over as Touma tackled the guy with a grunt and held him down.
Seconds later, Judgment officers rushed over, shouting and cuffing the thief.
The woman—a middle-aged teacher-looking type—retrieved her bag and bowed over and over.
"Thank you! Thank you both!"
"It's fine, really," Touma wheezed.
Kazuki just nodded, breath steady.
The adrenaline started to fade.
His mind returned to baseline—still busy, still noisy, but not racing anymore.
As they walked away, Touma glanced at him sideways.
"That throw math… that wasn't luck, was it?"
Kazuki hesitated.
Then shrugged.
"Lucky guess?"
Touma laughed. "Right. And I'm the Pope."
He clapped a hand on Kazuki's shoulder.
"Whatever it was… good job. You've got instincts. Street instincts. Might not be flashy, but that kind of timing? That matters."
Kazuki smiled faintly.
"I'm just trying to help out."
"Well, tomorrow you get to help by being a coffee boy heartthrob. So don't be late."
They both laughed again, disappearing into the evening crowds of Academy City.
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