“[color=00aeef]Haah. . .[/color]”

The sigh escaped her lips as she moved down the street, ducking into an alleyway as a shortcut. Seemingly unaffected by the blistering heat, she seemed to have far more important things in her mind, brow furrowed in thought as she contemplated recent events.

“[color=00aeef]. . .It’s getting close. It’s getting waaay too close.[/color]” She mumbled, exiting to a different street and turning on her heel as though it were second nature, steps filled with a sense of purpose. It shouldn’t be a problem just yet, thankfully, but it seemed to be right on track to become one.

Really, those delinquents. If they were going to kill each other, couldn’t they do it without inconveniencing everyone else? Common courtesy and all that, or so she thought as she opened the door to her establishment.

[center][h2][b][color=00aeef]Yukiyama Yukiru[/color][/b][/h2]
[h3][i]Zero Degrees Lounge, District 15[/i][/h3][/center]

She took in the sight that greeted her, the parlor cleaned to a mirror shine and different employees running around, finishing the menial tasks nonetheless required for a proper establishment. Pausing to nod in greeting — as well as grumble about having to crane her neck so much so often — she made her way to the counter.

Another one was there, obviously, but he had apparently finished up with his chores and set out to wait at his post, and in terms of sheer size one of the largest men in the room by a wide margin.

“Hey, boss, how’s it going?” His voice was about as deep as you’d expect from a giant, but she had grown used to it, so she just shrugged and waved her hand a bit.

“[color=00aeef]So-so. Idiots started a big fight nearby and then ran when Anti-Skill showed up — not unusual, but it has me worried,[/color]” She puffed her cheeks, resting her head on the counter. “[color=00aeef]What if people get too afraid to come here because they can run into them? Seriously. . .[/color]”

The tall man placed a hand on her back — that quite honestly might have been enough to just outright grab her — and gave her a few pats.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine — just gotta stay cool and bear with it.”

The more he spoke, the more clear it was that his accent was that of a foreigner.

That was far from uncommon in her little parlor, though. Furthermore, she had read that having foreigners working for you was the mark of a successful business, so she took pride in having plenty — why, their most recent addition was even a genuine Italian, and he approved of her cooking.

If that was not a sign that she was doing something right, what was?

“[color=00aeef]S’pose you’re right,[/color]” She muttered, watching one of the employees flip the sign on the entrance to “OPEN” before walking toward the kitchen. “[color=00aeef]First day of summer, too, so we’re sure to have plenty of customers today. . .[/color]”

She nodded, pushing her worries away for later. If it became a problem, she would just deal with it, like she had everything that came her way.

“[color=00aeef]Alright! Time to get to work. Pass me whatever orders come, I.C.![/color]” She called out as she entered the kitchen. “[color=00aeef]Best pizzeria this side of Kanto is open for business![/color]”

The door to the kitchen slammed closed behind her, and there was a lull in conversation.

“. . .I wonder how she manages to delude herself like that sometimes.”

“Must be a high-level thing.”