June 30, downtown Sendai City.
The afternoon sun lit up the entire shopping street, and crowds flowed between the shops and stalls, all kinds of sounds mingling together.
Loudspeakers outside shops called out to customers, oil sizzled on teppanyaki grills, and children ran past with ice cream in their hands, laughing.
Wangchuan and Yuji Itadori walked side by side through the crowd, each holding a cup of freshly bought shaved ice. Itadori's was strawberry, while Wangchuan's was matcha.
"Thanks, Itadori."
Wangchuan scooped a spoonful of shaved ice into his mouth and spoke indistinctly.
"I've had a great time here these past few days."
Itadori took a big bite of strawberry shaved ice, his cheeks bulging as he mumbled a reply.
"Mm~ What are you thanking me for?"
"I should be thanking you! You've treated me to so much good food these past few days!"
"That barbecue place was amazing!"
"I only went because you said Sendai was famous for grilled beef tongue."
Wangchuan smiled. "But it really was good."
"Of course! Sendai's beef tongue is the best in the country!"
Itadori gave him a thumbs-up, looking proud, then lowered his head a little.
"But... haven't you been busy these past few days? I thought you'd leave as soon as you finished what you came here for."
"I'm done. I'm taking a couple of days off while I'm here." Wangchuan offered little explanation, merely lowering his head to scoop up another spoonful of shaved ice.
"Besides, Sendai's pretty interesting."
Itadori grinned.
"Then come hang out with me next time you're in Sendai! I can take you to more places with great food!"
"Sure."
The two walked a little farther.
The crowd thickened slightly at the intersection, and Wangchuan's gaze naturally shifted away from Itadori's face, sweeping casually across the street.
He stopped walking.
Across the street, beneath the eaves of a Japanese confectionery shop, stood a tall, thin figure.
His dark monk's robes stood out sharply among the summer short-sleeved shirts and dresses around him, and his long black hair was tied into a bun.
His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and he wore that gentle smile, as though he were meeting an old friend again.
Suguru Geto.
Two other people stood behind him.
One was dark-skinned and muscular, wearing a close-fitting white jacket and carrying an unremarkable-looking cloth bag.
The other had an air of competence and stood half a step behind Suguru Geto's side, his calm gaze sweeping over the street.
Miguel and Larue.
Wangchuan's hand holding the shaved ice remained still as his eyes met Suguru Geto's across the street.
The smile on Suguru Geto's lips deepened a fraction. He raised one hand slightly and mouthed, "Hi," in Wangchuan's direction.
Wangchuan raised the hand holding his spoon and waved it at him in acknowledgment.
"Hm?" Noticing that Wangchuan had stopped, Itadori followed his gaze across the street.
"Those people... are they your friends?"
"...Acquaintances, I suppose." Wangchuan looked away and glanced at Itadori. "You go on ahead. I'll go say hello."
Itadori nodded readily.
Without asking any further questions, he swallowed the last mouthful of shaved ice, crushed the plastic cup, and waved to Wangchuan.
"Okay! I'll head back, then! Remember to look me up next time you're in Sendai!"
"Take care." The corners of Wangchuan's mouth curved at him.
Itadori turned and ran a few steps in another direction, then looked back and called out.
"Wangchuan!"
"Next time you come, I'll treat you to beef tongue! I won't let you pay!"
Then he turned away with a smile. His short pink hair bobbed through the crowd before he quickly disappeared into the stream of people on the shopping street.
Wangchuan watched his retreating figure disappear into the crowd, then crossed the crosswalk at an unhurried pace, carrying his remaining half cup of matcha shaved ice toward the other side of the street.
Suguru Geto stayed where he was, only speaking gently once Wangchuan drew close.
"Long time no see, Wangchuan."
"Long time no see?"
"It hasn't been that long, has it?"
Wangchuan stopped two steps in front of him, his gaze passing over Miguel and Larue before returning to Suguru Geto's face.
"How does the leader of the Time Vessel Association have time to visit a place like Sendai?"
Suguru Geto smiled faintly. "I heard quite a few interesting things have happened in Sendai lately, so I came to have a look."
"Interesting things?"
"Yes." Suguru Geto casually glanced in the direction Itadori had left, then brought his gaze back.
"And to see you while I was here."
"See me?" Wangchuan raised an eyebrow. "You're well informed."
"Your movements aren't difficult to keep track of."
Suguru Geto's tone remained gentle, giving no indication of whether that was praise or criticism.
"You've stayed in Sendai for several days, occasionally eating and shopping with a middle school student."
"That's not your usual style."
Wangchuan scooped a spoonful of shaved ice into his mouth, chewed it leisurely, and swallowed before speaking.
"You came all the way from Tokyo to Sendai just to tell me you noticed I had a meal with a middle school student?"
"Of course not."
Suguru Geto smiled.
"Let's talk as we walk."
The four headed north along a side street off the shopping street.
The crowds gradually thinned, and the clothing shops and dessert shops along the road gave way to general stores and secondhand bookstores. Festival notices were pasted on the lampposts.
Suguru Geto walked on the outermost side, with Miguel and Larue following half a step behind him.
Wangchuan walked on the inner side, carrying his shaved ice cup with only a little syrup left in it. Along the way, he scraped the ice fragments off the sides with his spoon, making faint scratching sounds.
"I heard,"
Suguru Geto looked straight ahead.
"That you have a cursed tool that can forcibly imprison cursed spirits inside it."
Wangchuan's scraping hand paused.
"And I heard you made it yourself."
Suguru Geto turned to look at him, the hint of a smile on his face gentle and mild.
Wangchuan pulled the spoon out of the cup, tapped it against the rim, then rubbed his chin.
"Hmm..."
He thought for a moment, then looked at Suguru Geto with just the right amount of puzzlement in his eyes.
"How did you know?"
"I only told Mei Mei and Satoru Gojo about that."
"With your current identity and circumstances..." He looked Suguru Geto's conspicuous monk's robes up and down.
"You're unlikely to approach Satoru Gojo."
"Then it could only be..."
He paused, raising his eyebrows slightly, his tone carrying a trace of helpless realization.
"That money-grubbing Mei Mei."
He shook his head, looking somewhat caught between laughter and tears. "She sold that information? How much did you pay her?"
Suguru Geto looked at his expression of having been "sold out" and chuckled softly.
"It wasn't Mei Mei."
Wangchuan paused. "Hm?"
"I bought the information on the black market," Suguru Geto said evenly.
"That person wasn't anyone you know. Or rather... someone you know wouldn't make a transaction like that in person."
Wangchuan blinked.
On the surface, he wore an expression of understanding.
He even murmured, "The black market..."
He sounded as though he truly hadn't expected that answer.
But inwardly, an entirely different voice rose from his sea of consciousness.
Wangchuan mentally gave himself a thumbs-up.
When he had asked Mei Mei to spread the news, he had never expected her to sell the information directly to Suguru Geto.
Given Mei Mei's style, she was more likely to "inadvertently" reveal it to a middleman on a suitable occasion, who would then pass it on to the black market.
That route was circuitous enough that it would be impossible to trace it back to the source.
Watching his changing expression, Suguru Geto probably thought he was processing the fact that "information about his cursed tool had been leaked."
He didn't pursue the topic, merely slowing his steps a little and turning to look at Wangchuan.
"What?"
"You want it?"
Wangchuan stopped, crushed the empty shaved ice cup, and tossed it into a roadside trash can.
Then he turned back to look at Suguru Geto.
"You have Cursed Spirit Manipulation."
"You're already a walking prison for cursed spirits."
"You shouldn't need something like that, should you?"
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