His morning went by in a blur.
Yuki taught Konrad to operate the cash register, scan barcodes, and greet customers. Not that they had any. But she was hyper all day—and always up in his face.
Despite a literal harem under his belt, her behavior still flustered him.
"Now, let's get down to business," she smirked, leading him to the guitar stands.
It lined the side of the store from floor to ceiling. Acoustics, electric, bass—in all shapes, colors, and sizes. He didn't even attempt to count them. There had to be at least a hundred.
For someone who had never seen an instrument this close, his heart was racing.
"Gibson, Fender, Ibanez, the rest are more or less cheaper copies of the same. You should know the difference between Strato-s and Tele-s, the three main pickup types, and—"
For a young girl, she talked like someone with thirty years of experience. Too much, too fast.
"Hold on, I didn't bring a notepad," Konrad tried to reason with her.
Yuki paused, but only for a second.
"It's simple, though," she said. "But you can use your phone, I guess."
Her feet tapped an impatient rhythm, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.
Right. The phone.
One more thing, Konrad wasn't an expert at.
He figured out how to use the GPS and start or accept calls, but that was it.
Back in his days, these things didn't come with everything built in.
Seeing his panicked face, the shopkeeper finally intervened.
"Slow down, Yuki, you're scaring him away," he said, patting Konrad's shoulders. "We didn't wait for a part-timer to chase him off the first day."
"What?!" the girl yelled, eyes going wide.
Well, at least that one he could see, painted to be the size of a dinner plate.
"Halstadt-san, please don't ever leave me," she pleaded, pushing her elbows to her sides.
If she had anything there—and wasn't wearing a tee with a tight neck—she could have made a show of her cleavage. Now, it was only a half puppy eye, but it still made his heart skip a beat.
This girl was dangerous.
Like Kaede without the whole dragon part, dialed up to eleven.
And the way the shopkeeper smacked her head also reminded him of someone.
Welf did that, but to whom?
"I, uh, will try my best to stick around, Sorakumo-senpai," he promised. "But be more patient, onegaishimasu. This is all new for me."
Her face transformed. Twice.
"S-senpai? Hahaha. Wait, don't call me Sorakumo, it'll be confusing with Oto-san around. Call me Yuki. Yuki-senpai," she giggled, pushing the word, her face flushing even under the makeup.
Her old man squeezed his shoulders, giving him an almost imperceptible nod.
"It's time you took a break, Halstadt-kun. Hope you brought lunch. My daughter will show you the resting area in the back," he offered, satisfied. Konrad's stomach immediately growled.
It was past noon, and he had only eaten a pair of toast so far.
"Um, no," he said, shaking his head, trying to suppress the sound by wrapping his arms around himself. "I didn't expect to start working right away, so I didn't bring anything, sorry."
If anything, he planned to check the place, then visit Kaede after she told him where she was.
Instead, he got stuck with a hyperactive emo and a brand new field he knew nothing about.
The shopkeeper scratched his head, looking apologetic.
"Here, Yuki-chan, take him out to that place around the corner," he asked, handing her a few bills. No, way too many bills for a simple lunch. "Do you like ramen, Halstadt-kun?"
"Only ever tried the instant kind," Konrad confessed.
He didn't add that it was twenty years ago.
"Oh, can you handle spicy?" the girl asked with a grin. With her as the spiciest thing in sight, he couldn't handle her at all. But he wasn't about to admit that.
"Don't chase him away," Sorakumo-san repeated his warning. "I'll run the shop until then."
Which was still empty, by the way.
Ever since that first customer opened the door for Konrad, nobody else has entered.
Yuki expected him to learn everything on his first day, but for what? She wasn't joking about no traffic at all. But she made up for it by herself, already dragging him by the hand.
"I'll get you a mild one, I promise," she chirped, and they were out before he knew it.
The street wasn't bustling, either.
That corner shop had a few people inside, the slurping so loud that his ears started to ring.
But nobody batted an eye at the extreme-looking emo girl ordering food for two.
To Konrad, this place looked more like a bar than a restaurant.
Men sat on high stools right at the counter.
Except, rather than nursing their drinks, they slurped pasta from huge bowls.
"It's not that difficult, to be honest," Yuki said, and it took him a moment to realise what she was talking about. "Once you know the basics, everything goes back to the same roots."
She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, scratching lines and circles with her painted nails.
Yes. With. Her. Nails.
That girl was living in another dimension.
"So the single coil pickups have one row of magnets, and the coil around them. They have a sharper sound, but they're noisy. The humbucker is two rows, more mellow, and louder."
If Konrad had to guess, she was talking about guitars, but it could have been rocket science, too.
"Then there is the P90, less common now, but it's somewhere between. I like the grunge-y sound it makes. But for metal, humbuckers are best. What kind of music do you like?"
He couldn't have answered even if she had given him a moment to think.
Not that she did. She kept talking until their food arrived. It was two big bowls of steaming hot soup. Then, she splurped louder than all the other customers combined.
And somehow, she still found a way to talk.
"I listen to everything from grunge to techno, but I hate pop with a passion. Like, who cares you broke up with your girlfriend or—whatever? Like, they're all the same. Lame noise."
She pulled out her phone, fiddling with headphones larger than the device itself.
"Here, give this one a listen," she said, and shoved it on his head before Konrad had a chance to protest. "Oh, and—don't tell my dad, but here is some sake to celebrate your new job."
Caught up in the Yuki-whirlwind, Konrad took the little metal flask.
The soup was way too hot to eat yet, and he was thirsty anyway.
As punk-rock screamed into his ears, he took a swig and regretted it immediately.
Sake was alcohol. How did he forget?!
"Whoa, not so fast, leave some for me, too." Yuki giggled, grabbing the flask and taking a sip as well. "Whew, that's how you do it. So, what do you think about that song? I play the bass."
Konrad was trying to hold back a cough, his eyes tearing up.
Trying the hot soup didn't help, either. Now his nose was running, too.
What was even happening to him?
The world spun; the music was loud. And no, he didn't get drunk from this much, but—
He could feel his magic essence recharge a tiny fraction.