Who the Hell Are You?

Shinjuku, Tokyo.

East Shinjuku, east of Shinjuku Station, was the busiest-and most chaotic-traditional shopping district.

There was a shopping street here known as Fortune-Telling Street.

Stalls offering all kinds of Eastern and Western divination lined the street. Their proprietors wore various outfits to represent their specialties, and the scents of sandalwood incense and scented candles mingled in the air.

Two tall figures appeared, jarringly out of place. Their high school uniforms did nothing to hide their striking looks, and stallholders of every age and gender kept glancing their way, unable to stop themselves from wondering.

Were high school boys this good-looking nowadays?

"Hey, why did our teacher send us to find the new student? Shouldn't he be doing this himself?"

The silver-haired boy complained to the black-haired boy beside him, a lollipop between his lips. His round black sunglasses gave him a faintly delinquent air.

"This kid is very unusual. We might not be able to find her without the Six Eyes."

The black-haired boy seemed considerably more levelheaded and explained patiently.

"But this is my day off!"

"Isn't it mine, too? Technically, this should be your solo assignment. Why did you drag me along?"

Satoru Gojo paused, turned his head, and flashed a sunny smile.

"If you had the Six Eyes, I wouldn't have come."

The Gojo Clan's elders would keel over if they heard that.

Suguru Geto flexed his fists, a gentle smile appearing beneath his foxlike eyes. "Let's finish up quickly and go back to enjoy our day off."

Satoru Gojo gave a soft huff. Behind his sunglasses, his brilliant sky-blue eyes surveyed the assorted stalls lining the narrow street.

A woman in a deep-purple magician's outfit leaned forward, pressing a generous expanse of pale, soft cleavage against the crystal ball below her as sweet words slipped from her red lips.

"Hey, boys. Want to explore the secrets in my crystal ball with me?"

Looking thoroughly intrigued, Satoru Gojo was about to go investigate when Suguru Geto grabbed him.

"Excuse me. We're looking for a young fortune-teller, a girl around fifteen?"

Disappointed at being turned down, the woman sat up straight. She wound a strand of long hair around her finger, seemingly considering something.

"I can't decide whether you two have good taste or terrible taste."

Her ambiguous remark left Suguru Geto slightly puzzled, but she kindly extended a finger tipped with red nail polish and pointed ahead.

"Second stall from the end."

Suguru Geto immediately nodded his thanks, hooking an elbow around Satoru Gojo and hauling him away as he clamored for a look at that ball.

Which balls were you actually trying to look at?

Stallholders kept calling out to solicit their business along the way, until the two stopped at the second stall from the end.

Compared with all the gaudy displays they had passed, this little stall was far too simple... or should that be shabby?

A white cloth covered a wooden table measuring half a square meter, with nothing but a pen and a few sheets of paper on top.

A girl sat on the other side of the table, her silver hair loosely tied with a dark-red ribbon. She wore a dark, modified men's kimono, her hands tucked into her sleeves like an old man.

The crowning touch was the pair of round black sunglasses perched on her palm-sized face, identical to Satoru Gojo's.

Suguru Geto covered his mouth, hoping he wouldn't laugh aloud.

What was this? Satoru Gojo's little sister, Gojo Shingo?

But his best friend, whom he had expected to launch into a scathing commentary, was unusually quiet. Suguru Geto turned curiously and found that Satoru Gojo had already tugged his sunglasses down a little. His blue eyes were now as deep as the sea, and his slightly furrowed brows made him look thoroughly puzzled.

This was bizarre. Had he really found his long-lost sister?

Suguru Geto cleared his throat, bent down, and asked gently, "Excuse me, are you from the Miwa family?"

Miwa Chisei sighed with the world-weary air of someone who had long since made peace with life and death. She pointed to the sign beside her, which read, "Fortune-telling questions: 50,000 yen each."

"The fuck? Are you robbing us?"

Satoru Gojo finally spoke up. He pushed his sunglasses back up, concealing that expanse of blue, and planted one foot on the wooden table, looking utterly overbearing.

"Are you the Miwa family's kid? We're from Jujutsu High. You're old enough to enroll."

The sunglasses hid most of Miwa Chisei's face, making her expression unreadable. She merely drew one hand slowly from her sleeve and held it out, palm up, before them.

Her exposed wrist was fair and so slender it inspired tenderness.

They understood: pay first, answers later.

Satoru Gojo rolled up his sleeves, ready to hit her, but Suguru Geto stopped him. In the same motion, he reached into Gojo's jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Be a little nicer to our future junior. You don't want our teacher beating you up when we get back, do you?"

The Gojo Clan's young master really was loaded. Look at all those dazzling ten-thousand-yen notes. What high school student carried this much cash around?

Suguru Geto resentfully pulled out five bills and handed them to Miwa Chisei. Once she accepted them, her face seemed to brighten behind her sunglasses.

"Geto, you bastard! Why are you paying her?"

Satoru Gojo crunched through his lollipop and reached to snatch back his wallet.

Suguru Geto returned it at once, remarking with feeling, "Anything you can solve with money isn't a problem."

Miwa Chisei nodded in wholehearted agreement.

Then she pushed the pen and paper toward Satoru Gojo. Since it was his money, he was naturally the client.

Her voice was quiet, carrying a soothing serenity, its clear tone distinctly girlish.

Even with the sunglasses concealing her face, it wasn't hard to imagine how stunning she must look framed by that silver hair.

Her pink lips, coated with lip balm, looked soft and sweet. They parted gently, releasing a few utterly arresting words.

"Who the hell are you?"

Someone on the other side of the wooden table turned to stone.

Then Suguru Geto burst out laughing, unable to stop himself from pounding his best friend's shoulder.

"Did you hear that, Satoru? She asked who the hell you are! Someone finally said it to you! I'm going to be telling this joke for the rest of my life!"

In contrast to Suguru Geto's flailing, Miwa Chisei barely reacted. She had simply asked a considerate, perfectly serious question about what he wanted his fortune read for. And look-some people just had to misunderstand.

Satoru Gojo gritted his teeth. He slapped his hand down on the sheets of white paper and spat out each word.

"So you're that brat from the Miwa family! I was wondering why that silver hair was such an eyesore!"

Suguru Geto's gaze flicked across Satoru Gojo's hair. He was even insulting himself now. Was he really that angry?

Still, judging by his tone, did they know each other?

Suguru Geto turned his gaze to Miwa Chisei. The girl brushed the large hand off the paper and spoke with considerable impatience.

"Scourge of the Gojo Clan, hurry up and answer. Who the hell are you?"

Suguru Geto swore this was the happiest day of his life so far.