𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘

CHAPTER 10

**WARNING: THERE ARE MANGA SPOILERS IN THIS CHAPTER**

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A Few Months Earlier

The building was empty, showing no signs of life for a decade at the very least. It was dark inside, the only light making it through was the luminance of the moon, which peeked through the holes in the ceiling that were sparkled with dust particles.

On the inside, the room was decorated to be a bar, only, it looked nothing of the sort now. The bar itself had hints of mold forming in whatever was left of it, broken bottles of alcohol were scattered on the floor, and the roof was slowly withering away. Some rumors went around the city that the splatters of liquid on the walls were the remnants of blood, spilled by the last bar fight this place had seen. Well, it was believable; this place reeked of death.

It wasn't hard to understand why such a place had been abandoned for so long; it was a dump. In the corners of the room, rat carcasses littered the space, and tufts of cat fur were stuck in the baseboards of the walls. The only ones who dared to entire this building were reckless teenagers and villains seeking refuge.

Otherwise, the public was all too afraid to even look in its direction.

Misaki stood in the center of the room, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, both that were drenched in black fabrics. Her golden eyes scanned the room, chills making their way up her spine. She walked towards the bar, catching sight of an overturned bar stool that was missing its seat covering. White stuffing cluttered the area around the chair as it rested on its side; ten years doing a number on the old stool.

She hesitated, but she picked it up, sitting it upright like it was supposed to be. She dragged it over to the bar before taking a seat. Her eyes continued to scan the room, keeping her alertness on the highest level.

However dark it was, she knew she couldn't bring herself to use her flames on a large scale in case of attracting unwanted attention, so instead, she looked for something to use.

Luckily, on the far end of the bar was a small candle. She raised her hand from her lap and focused her attention on the wick of the candle. She waved her fingers around and instantly, the wick beamed brightly with a white flame on the end. Misaki let out a sigh of relief before folding her hands and then resting them in her lap.

She waited silently as the candle's flame danced across her facial features.

As time would pass by, she would close her eyes, resting them from the darkness of the room. However, she remained fully alert.

"Your sense of time hasn't changed a bit." A voice echoed from behind but Misaki didn't turn to acknowledge who it came from.

"And your lack of time management hasn't changed." She responded, opening her eyes; the glow of the candle illuminating them.

"I find myself to be more presentable that way." Chuckled the voice. The one who spoke was coming closer, their footsteps growing louder and louder with each step.

"Hm." Misaki argued silently, lifting her hands from her lap. She planted her feet on the ground and lifted herself from the barstool. Though, she didn't turn to face the one who approached her.

"It's been all of these years, and that's all you have to say to me?" Their voice was taunting, showing no signs of hostility. Though, their footsteps had stopped.

"We'd have more to talk about if you hadn't become an alborotador." Misaki sighed while planting a hand on the bar's top. But she pulled away when a coat of dust discomforted her palm.