The First Night

The calm music was hypnotic, enchanting. Smooth and fluid, the sounds of skillful piano and violin playing drifted in the background as frequent visitors and first timers alike chatted amongst each other. 

Despite most of these people looking like untrustworthy hoodlums, Mikumo welcomed the droning noise of chatter from his seat behind the bar counter. It had been a long time since he was in a place with so many strangers at once. He didn't realize how much he missed it until today.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Haruse, who he had met shortly before the bar opened, busying himself with a container of dry ice. With carefully measured steps, the lanky man navigated around the various cabinets, trying not to accidentally nudge anything with his bat wings.

It made Mikumo curious. Out of all the people he had formally met, Haruse had the most prominent quirk. Did he only have a flight quirk that takes the appearance of bat wings or did he posses other latent abilities like echolocation?

Ah, from Haruse's expression, and the fact that he kept giving Mikumo hesitant side glances, it was apparent that his staring was unnerving the man. Yeah, he should stop.

Fortunately enough, Hotaru's timely arrival eased the awkward atmosphere between the two.

"Just a piece of advice, kid." Hotaru spoke, tapping Mikumo's shoulder as he returned from the kitchen hidden behind the liquor cabinet. "Start using an alias when you introduce yourself around these parts. Or just your first name. Whatever suits you."

But, Akatani Mikumo is an alias. Though nobody but him knew that now.

"Oh. Okay." Mikumo nodded anyways, turning his gaze towards the stage where the two brothers, Akane and Akira, Akane being older than Akira by seven years or so (he had learned ealier), played music pieces for the customers.

It fascinated Mikumo how this whole showmaster thing worked. In the early part of their performance, they played a few songs of their choosing, with Akane on the violin and Akira on the piano. After that though, they relied on playing song requests from various customers. When they ran out of requests, they'd go back to their own pieces until someone gives a new request. It was like a cycle.

Previously, he had been told that aside from him on Fridays and Saturdays, Akane and Akira on Wednesdays and Thursdays, a live band would be playing from Sunday to Tuesday. He wondered if they did that as well.

Then he pondered about how he would go about with his own shifts, Shisei not having told him to do anything specific. It was not like he could play any instrument anyways so, perhaps his new employer was expecting him to put on a show with his quirk? 

That could be possible but, he still hadn't experimented enough with his quirk and didn't know if there was a time limit to giving his imagination physical forms.

In the first place, what kind of show would he even put on? Was it enough for him to recreate famous scenes from movies and television shows? Maybe even script out a fight between different heroes and villains? 

Mikumo was so caught up in his thought process that he didn't realize he was mumbling aloud, further unnerving Haruse who was already unsettled enough with his presence alone. He never did manage to get rid of that habit of his, even when his father tried to beat it out of him.

"Mikumo? Mikumo? Kid?" Hotaru waved his hand in front of Mikumo's face, snapping the boy out of his reverie. "You look tired. Wanna take a nap in the break room?"

Break room? Ah, right. Shisei did say something about letting him stay at his place so-

"Hotaru-san, is there a place for staffs to live here?" Mikumo asked.

"Oh, so you're a stay-in worker? Most workers don't want to live in the district since it's too close to the Yakuza." Hotaru appeared surpised. "But, yeah. Employees who choose to stay are provided rooms in Underground 2."

"So there was more than one underground?" Mikumo muttered to himself, paying no mind to the part about the yakuza.

"The underground here actually has three floors." Hotaru explained patiently. "Underground 1 is the entertainment section for the VIP customers, Underground 2 being the living quarters for the workers, and Underground 3 is the storage floor."

"I see." Mikumo nodded, grateful for the explanation.

"Yoo~ What's happenin'!" Suddenly, from behind the liquor cabinet, Shisei burst through in a grand entrance, catching Mikumo offguard. 

"Boss, you really should avoid doing that." Hotaru said in a resigned tone, shaking his head. "You nearly made Haruse-kun jump out of his skin when you did that on his first job, and now, you've switched to scaring Mikumo."

"Eh~? But Haruse is used to me doing that now! Isn't that right, Haruse-kun?" Shisei slung his arm over Haruse's shoulders, the other man just smiling nervously.

"Stop it. You're making your employees uncomfortable." Hotaru sighed. It was obvious from their conversation that it was not the first time Shisei did this. In fact, it might even be a common occurrence. 

"That aside, newbie!" Suddenly, Mikumo found himself the center of his employer's attention. "This week's payment."

In front of his face, Shisei dangled a red envelope containing what Mikumo assumed to be cash. 

"The key for your room is inside as well." Shisei grinned. "Room U2-6C."

"...Thanks." Mikumo muttered hesitantly, taking the envelope.

"Oh, and Shin-chan wanted to let you know that you left your clothes back at his base so, you can pick those up tomorrow morning." Shisei began pulling Mikumo up from his seat. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Letting himself be dragged around by his employer, Mikumo left with a blank expression as Hotaru sighed, Haruse feeling pity for the boy.

As Shisei chattered on continuously, Mikumo nodded along, not really registering the words in his head. 

At least he did end up knowing where the kitchen, bathrooms, and bedrooms were. But, he mostly spaced out for the most part. The next thing he knew, he was already in a plain room, staring at the wall with Shisei nowhere in sight.

All alone in the silence, the static buzzing that he felt in his head when he had just woken up before, came back, making it hard for him to make any coherent thought processes. 

Maybe it was just lethargy.

He felt his eyelids getting heavier. He never realized how tired he really was when he was around the crowd and noise.

With that in mind, he laid on his bed and allowed the silence to lull him to sleep.

...

The next morning, when he woke up, he found himself staring at three curious faces.

"...What?"