The bells of Asteria rang at dawn, bright and wrong. Saitou Kiyomi stopped sweeping the plaza halfway through a stroke. The sound scraped against her nerves like chalk on a board. Bells were for festivals, weddings, victories. This wasn’t any of those. People didn’t cheer. They whispered. “An Edict?” someone muttered. “From the Cathedral,” said another. “No—from the Palace.” Kiyomi sighed, resting both hands on the broom handle. Of course. When you tidy a world too well, eventually the people who enjoyed the mess come knocking. She had known this day would come. She’d just hoped it would be later. Preferably never. Since arriving in Gahaski, things had fallen into place—literally. Bandit gangs vanished overnight, their knives and clubs snapping neatly into evidence lockers they’d never seen before. Slums became livable when refuse simply… stopped existing. Corrupt officials found themselves waking up in cells, their ill-gotten gold “returned to its proper owner,” whatever that meant according to the magic. They called her many things now.
Saint of Cleanliness.
The Living Broom.
The Witch Who Erases. Kiyomi hated all of them. She resumed sweeping. Habit was stronger than unease. The plaza stones gleamed, polished to a soft morning shine. She remembered another plaza—no, a station platform—back in Tokyo, where she’d scrubbed gum off tiles while pretending not to hear a manager shout her name like it was an insult. I just wanted things to be a little less dirty, she thought. Is that so wrong? The bells stopped. A ripple of silence spread, followed by the arrival of white-robed clerics and steel-armored knights. At their center walked a man whose clothes were immaculate in a way that made Kiyomi’s skin crawl. Not a speck of dust dared touch him. Not because of magic—because dozens of others were paid to ensure it. High Chancellor Verdan bowed, just enough to be polite, not enough to be humble. “Saitou Kiyomi,” he said, pronouncing her name carefully, like a document he’d read twice. “By decree of His Radiance the King, you are summoned.” Kiyomi leaned on her broom. “I’m on shift.” A murmur rippled through the knights. The Chancellor’s smile tightened. “The kingdom is in crisis,” he continued. “Order is collapsing. Institutions are… relocating themselves without authorization. Prisons are full beyond capacity. Treasuries are emptying into private homes. This ‘Tidy’ of yours—” “It puts things where they belong,” Kiyomi said simply. “And who,” Verdan asked, eyes sharpening, “decides where that is?” Kiyomi opened her mouth—and stopped. For the first time since coming to Gahaski, the answer didn’t come easily. She thought of the noble she’d sent to jail without a trial because everyone knew he was rotten. Of the temple vault whose gold had marched itself into the hands of starving villages. Of the mirror, weeks ago, when she’d casually wiped away twenty-six years like dust on glass. Where is the proper place… for power? “I do,” she said at last. The words felt heavier than they should have. Verdan nodded, as if that were the only answer he’d expected. “Then you must also accept responsibility for the consequences.” At his signal, a knight stepped forward and unrolled a parchment. Names spilled down it like a stain that wouldn’t wash out. Cities destabilized. Borders violated. Alliances broken overnight because a crown had decided it belonged “somewhere else.” “You are cleaning the world,” Verdan said softly. “But a world without dirt has no friction. Nothing to hold it together.” Kiyomi laughed, short and tired. “Funny. Back home, they told me the opposite. That if I worked harder, stayed later, cleaned more… things would hold together just fine.” She straightened, feeling the familiar hum beneath her skin—the magic responding to her mood. The plaza’s dust quivered, eager. Verdan took a cautious step back. “I won’t stop,” Kiyomi said. “But I will listen.” That surprised him. It surprised her too. Above them, unseen by all but her, a small cat-shaped spirit sat atop a roof beam, tail flicking. So, it thought, eyes gleaming. She’s reached the messy part. And for the first time since her reincarnation, Saitou Kiyomi wondered whether some things, once cleaned, could ever be put back where they belonged.