The Sendai Colony.
Kenjaku stood amid the ruins, his head tilted slightly, his gaze resting on the strangely dressed man with slicked-back hair before him. The man's clothes were garishly colorful, as though he had escaped from the set of some failed variety show.
"Who are you?" Kenjaku asked flatly, making no effort to hide his confusion.
"Yo! You lost and lonely young man!" Takaba spread his arms, his delivery so exaggerated that he might have been performing a one-man show. "The great god of comedy, Takaba, has come to save you!"
A question mark appeared above Kenjaku's head. It wasn't physically there, but Takaba felt certain he could see it.
"First, I can hardly be called a young man." Kenjaku raised one finger, his tone as unhurried as ever.
"Second, I'm not lonely... probably. And finally..." He lowered his finger, his gaze cooling.
"You're not the person I'm waiting for. You can die first."
He raised a hand, and a Cursed Spirit sprang from the shadows behind him. Its body swelled rapidly as it charged straight at Takaba. Boom! Dust and smoke from the explosion engulfed Takaba's position, rubble flying as the shock wave surged outward.
The smoke cleared.
"Cough, cough, cough!" Takaba crouched in a blackened crater, waving away the dust in front of him, disbelief written all over his face. "Motherfucker! Who starts fighting the second they meet someone?!"
Kenjaku's mouth opened slightly, letting out a short "Huh?" His pupils reflected Takaba leaping out of the crater. The man in the gaudy outfit charged toward him furiously, his fist already raised high-
"Hold your horses!"
Kenjaku abruptly raised his hand, spreading his fingers with his palm pointed straight at Takaba's face. Takaba's fist paused in midair. Kenjaku pulled a phone from the pocket of his monk's robes.