There are many things one might expect on a quiet night at a shrine.

  Peace. Crickets. Maybe the occasional ghost moaning about unpaid incense taxes.

  What I didn’t expect… was a full-on drumline performing a love confession outside our gate.

  It started with the faint echo of rhythm. Do-dum-do-dum-doom.

  Then a voice.

  Singing.

  No—not just singing. Singing badly.

  And then I heard it clearly:

  “Miss Kaaaase, please come out! My heart is your SHRAIIINE!”

  I was halfway through brushing my teeth and nearly choked on my spit.

  ?

  I rushed to the front porch, toothbrush still in hand.

  Outside, five guys—fully grown, clearly not sober—were cnging away at drums and tambourines like they were trying to summon a romance god.

  One of them had a poster with a badly printed photo of Ms. Kase taped to it. I didn’t even want to know where they got that.

  I sighed. Loudly. “It’s a shrine. Not a boy band bootcamp.”

  Arina appeared beside me, holding a cup of juice. “Looks like Ms. Kase has admirers.”

  “I’m calling the police,” I muttered, grabbing my phone.

  But before I could even press a button, a calm voice cut through the night.

  “No need.”

  Ms. Kase stepped onto the porch.

  In. Her. Pajamas.

  A dark silk robe clung to her shoulders like she was modeling for a midnight assassin calendar. Her hair was tied back. She cracked her knuckles.

  “I’ll handle this.”

  ?

  I blinked.

  “Wait. Handle? Like… with tea?”

  Nope.

  She walked barefoot down the path, stood before the group of drummers, and said ftly:

  “You have three seconds to leave before I reduce your egos and your kneecaps.”

  One of the guys tried to flirt.

  Another tried to hold her hand.

  The third made a dramatic kneel.

  She dropkicked the third.

  The other two scattered like squirrels.

  But one—the boldest of the bunch—grabbed her ankle while she was adjusting her stance. She tripped. Landed hard.

  The guy made a move like he was going to pin her down.

  Before I could even think, I was out the door, sprinting down the shrine steps.

  “You touch her again,” I growled, “and I’ll pnt you six feet under this koi pond.”

  It didn’t come to that. The guy got the message and bolted. Ms. Kase sat up, brushing dust from her robe like nothing happened.

  “…I had it under control,” she said.

  I offered her a hand. “Yeah, and the moon’s made of udon. Come on.”

  ?

  Back inside the shrine, Baja was sipping hot sake like this was just another episode of her supernatural sitcom.

  “You didn’t tell me Ms. Kase had fanboys,” I said.

  Baja yawned. “Of course she does. She’s tall, composed, terrifying. The usual.”

  I stared at her. “Wait—you brought her in, didn’t you?”

  Ms. Kase calmly nodded, tying her robe back up. “I met your mother at a consultation. Baja recommended the shrine. I thought it’d be peaceful.”

  I turned back to the demon herself.

  “Can you not bring in people who are going to cause local fsh mobs on my wn?!”

  Baja smirked. “You’re welcome.”

  Ms. Kase narrowed her eyes slightly at me. “I’m sorry if my presence bothers you.”

  I turned back to face her.

  Only to immediately regret it.

  Her robe had slipped just slightly at the colrbone—just enough for dangerous thoughts to emerge.

  I gnced away, cheeks heating. “N-No. It’s fine. Whatever.”

  “Are you blushing?” Arina chimed in from behind me.

  “Mind your tarot cards.”

  ?

  I retreated to the back hallway, mentally berating myself.

  I couldn’t afford to lose focus. This shrine was slowly turning into a lunatic hotel.

  I found my mother’s handwritten note on the table—the one I kept forgetting to look at.

  It read:

  “Check out the app I told you about. Might be some tenants you can bring in. Try weekends. Baja already verified a few. Use the ID checks.”

  Oh right. Now I had to recruit people too.

  As if the current circus wasn’t enough.

  I opened the app out of morbid curiosity. Four applicants. No bios. Just names and numbers.

  “This is how horror movies start,” I mumbled.

  And yet… I had no choice.

  Mom wanted more tenants. Money was needed. And apparently, I was the one getting drafted to expand this operation.

  ?

  I looked back toward the living room.

  Mogi was sleeping soundly. Arina was reading. Ms. Kase sat in the corner polishing off an entire bottle of green tea like nothing had happened.

  And Baja?

  Snoring.

  As usual.

  But the shrine was far from asleep.

  Because tomorrow, I’d have to open the door…

  …and possibly let in someone even weirder.