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The area of Shibuya is 15.11 km2. The area of Saburo is 1.63 m2 (What? Everyone knows their own body surface area.). Now, if one was to calculate how many Saburos are needed to cover Shibuya, the first step would be to convert 15.11 km2 into m2. The answer to that is 15110000 m2. Now, this updated area of Shibuya must be divided by the area of Saburo. That would return the answer: 9269938.65 Saburos. Therefore, in order to cover the whole of Shibuya, you would need over nine million Saburos.
Except there is only one Saburo.
“What stupid thing are you thinking about,” Jiro asks, raising an eyebrow at him. As an afterthought, he adds, “Stupid.”
“Oh, nothing,” Saburo says, a smug smile spreading across his face at this incredible chance Jiro has provided him. “I just remembered the time you got so happy when the Starbucks barista wrote MC Middle Bro on your coffee that you walked into a glass door and spilled—”
“SABURO.” Jiro’s face is red. “THAT NEVER HAPPENED.”
“Like how your English essay about Uzumaki Naruto being your greatest role model after Ichi-nii never happened, or—”
Ichi-nii whacks them on their heads. “Stop fighting. We’re here on a mission today.”
Saburo whines softly, rubbing the back of his head, then feels much better on seeing Jiro do the same. Although he would have liked their adventure to have started without a reprimand from Ichi-nii, he’s still really excited about the whole thing.
The whole thing being the three of them hunting for a limited edition Neon Genesis Evangelion figurine that someone has now put up for sale here. Here, in Shibuya.
Shibuya resembles Ikebukuro every now and then. The fluorescent signs are oddly similar to the ones back home, but, for Saburo, the one thing that stands out about this division is how loud it is. It’s not loud in the same way it was in Yokohama (where he’d gone when he’d run away from home, like an idiot) with delinquents yelling at each other and the piercing sirens of police cars on every street. Instead, it’s loud in the sense that there’s so, so, so many people. All around. Throughout. Everywhere.
“We can’t afford to let her slip from our hands this time, brethren,” Ichi-nii says, just as Jiro grabs Saburo’s arm and yanks him towards himself. Saburo begins protesting, but then sees the group of high schoolers who would have knocked into him if Jiro hadn’t intervened, and shuts up, chooses to elbow his side softly. “We have trained and planned with impeccable precision for this very day.”
“We sure have,” Jiro says, nodding. Then, as if he isn't in the middle of a crowded street in a different division, he roars, "I'll make you proud, Nii-chan!"
Saburo rolls his eyes, expecting the scolding Ichi-nii is going to give Jiro. Jiro, lower your voice, Saburo can almost hear Ichi-nii saying, you need to be courteous to the other pedestrians here. Or even, Jiro, calm down, look at Saburo’s excellent behaviour and learn how to be a spectacular brother like him. But in an odd turn of events, Ichi-nii says neither of those things. Instead, he grins at Jiro, and reaches out to hold his shoulder like — Saburo gasps at the realization — like how the most important characters in shounen anime pat the shoulders of their successors while whispering I’m counting on you before heading off to face the danger before them. Ichi-nii is doing the same thing to Jiro right now. Ichi-nii is doing the same thing to Jiro, who is not Saburo.
“I WILL ALSO—” Saburo begins, louder than he intended. He lowers his voice when his brothers and three other locals jolt. “I will find it. And I will make Ichi-nii proud. Before Jiro.”
Saburo is now the recipient of Ichi-nii’s dazzling grin. He smiles back when Ichi-nii ruffles his hair, then smiles a little more when he hears Jiro huff from beside them. There are a few reasons Saburo doesn’t wear stupid caps like Jiro does, and getting his hair tousled by Ichi-nii is most of those reasons. When one has got such an awesome older brother like Ichi-nii, it’s a crime if one doesn’t have his hair out in the open so it can be messed up by the latter.
“Let’s split up, then. We either find this seller and get the figurine, or we die trying.” Ichi-nii adjusts his headphones, then his jacket’s sleeves, then stops. He looks up at them sharply, and with emphatic pronunciation, continues, “Not literally. You guys are forbidden from doing anything reckless, got it? Promise me you won’t instigate any fights.”
“Promise!” Saburo and Jiro call out, in unison.
He waves Ichi-nii goodbye, and sticks his tongue out at Jiro as he goes down another street. The whole expanse around him is swarming with people — shoppers, employees, vacationers, and, what, an orchestral flash mob or something — and Saburo breathes in. He is in an unfamiliar division with a very important task entrusted to him. No matter what happens, he’s going to complete his mission without breaking his promise to Ichi-nii.
“Ah! ☆ It’s Ichiro’s little brother! ☆”
No matter what happens, he’s going to complete his mission even if he might be breaking his promise to Ichi-nii.
Right, so the problem of needing over nine million Saburos to cover the whole of Shibuya, and the real problem of there being only one Saburo? That’s nothing. The real problem is the fact that there is one Saburo here, in Shibuya, and he is very close to swearing at someone. A short, pink-haired, lollipop-holding, high-pitched someone.
“Hey, hey? ☆” The short, pink-haired, lollipop-holding, high-pitched someone is loud. Saburo doesn’t even know how he can hear the stars attached to all of his words. “Where’s Ichiro? ♡” Great, now he can hear the hearts too. “Why don’t you call him, and we can all go bowling with some onee-sans! ☆”
“I refuse,” Saburo says curtly. He will never acknowledge this short, pink-haired, lollipop-holding, high-pitched, Ichi-nii-hogging guy to be a twenty four year old with a respectable job. If anything, he’s most likely a genetically manufactured… flamingo. “Please leave me alone, I do not have time for you.”
Amemura Ramuda has been following Saburo with a persistence that only spiders have. Trust him, he spends way too much time observing them and how they spin their webs when he’s got Math homework to do. He understands that this correlation he’d formed between this guy and spiders would get him a thwack from Ichi-nii, but the more he thinks about it, the more right it feels. By the time Saburo notices his surroundings, he’s already walked a couple of blocks away from his original spot. The area is pretty isolated, with only a handful of passersby, and— if Amemura Ramuda is the spider, then Saburo is his—
Saburo shakes his head. He isn’t going to play into Amemura Ramuda’s plans like he did when The Dirty Dawg had visited Ikebukuro. Saburo was only just fourteen back then. Now, he’s fifteen. He can buy all the R15 doujinshi he wants. He can even make an account on that one Swedish company’s website he’d landed on once (What? Everyone reads the terms and conditions of websites in unknown languages.). Saburo is not the same weak fourteen year old Amemura Ramuda had seen last year, and he’s going to prove it to him.
“Boo, you’re so mean to me, Ichiro’s cheeky little brother! ☆”
Saburo is going to— prove—
“...Who are you calling cheeky, you—”
“Ah, if that isn’t Ramuda,” a voice interrupts, stopping Saburo from calling Amemura Ramuda something distasteful. Like a rosy turd. Or Minoru Mineta. “And, eh, a... middle schooler?”
Today would have been much, much better if there were zero Saburos in Shibuya. Or zero Saburos in general, but that would mean he would never have gotten to hear OLDCODEX and BTS, he would never have gotten to taste Riou-san’s surprisingly soothing lavender tea, he would never have gotten to meet Ichi-nii and that other brother of his. Although the very last part of his previous sentence sounds good, it’s something Saburo has begrudgingly accepted as a part of his life already, and he might kind of even like it.
“Gentaro! ♡” Amemura Ramuda chirps, waving his arms around like he’s an elastic toy. “Wait, is that blood on your hands? ☆”
Saburo whirls around at that, and— it’s true. There is blood all over Yumeno Gentaro’s hands. Saburo drags his gaze up to Yumeno Gentaro’s face by the sheer power of his dying will. He always knew Reborn’s words would fuel him someday. Sadly, his dying will fizzles out when he sees the absolute bliss in Yumeno Gentaro’s face, which only adds to the terror Saburo feels when the man says, “Yes, I have just murdered Arisugawa Dice.”
So, this is divine retribution for thinking that there should be zero Saburos. God has personally sent Yumeno Gentaro to reap Saburo’s soul. You wanted there to be zero Saburos on Earth, Saburo can hear God saying, I think that’s a pretty neat idea, goodbye then. He should’ve known this limited edition Neon Genesis Evangelion figurine was going to end up killing him. Saburo’s heartbeat picks up as he looks at the hakama-wearing author with a penchant for lying, who’s soon going to eliminate him just as he had eliminated his own team member.
“Ahaha! ☆” Amemura Ramuda laughs, then, and Saburo turns pale. He’s only fifteen. He hasn’t seen a FIFA match live yet. He hasn’t even seen a Siberian Husky in real life yet.
He’s about to fall into acceptance about his inevitable death when Yumeno Gentaro says, “Well, that was lie. He should be here any minute.”
The hakama-wearing author with a penchant for lying. Right.
“GENTARO!”
“Ah,” Yumeno Gentaro remarks. “There he is.”
“OH YOU BASTARD,” Arisugawa Dice yells, running towards the three of them. There’s blood — blood — splattered all over his front, and he’s shaking his fist in the air. “GET BACK HERE, GENTARO!”
It’s a little past noon and it is sweltering. Saburo wants to shrug his jacket off, but doing that would mean he’s lost an unspoken battle between him and Amemura Ramuda, who is not only wearing a jacket that looks much heavier than Saburo’s jacket, but is also frolicking around Saburo and Yumeno Gentaro as if it wasn’t 34℃ here. Saburo doesn’t even want to begin analyzing how Yumeno Gentaro is surviving in those ancient clothes of his. He didn’t even know people wore those kind of clothes outside of historical anime and the old tea store that’s on his way to school.
Arisugawa Dice, as well, when he approaches Yumeno Gentaro, is wearing such bulky clothes, Saburo feels physically warmer by simply looking at him. What is up with these Fling Posse people and their bad garment-related decisions.
“THAT WAS MY LAST CONTAINER,” Arisugawa Dice shouts when he catches up with Yumeno Gentaro and tries to punch him. It is with laughable ease that Yumeno Gentaro holds Arisugawa Dice’s hands, making the latter struggle until he gives up and continues, “Riou-san specifically made that for me. How could you.”
Saburo doesn’t know what shocks him more at this point — the fact that Riou-san sent Arisugawa Dice some red-coloured edibles, which meant that they were on good terms (in fact, better terms than Riou-san and Saburo are on, apparently, because Riou-san has never sent a container of food for Saburo now, has he? Has he?), or the fact that Arisugawa Dice could survive after consuming something other than Riou-san’s surprisingly soothing lavender tea, or the fact that Yumeno Gentaro is currently kissing Arisugawa Dice’s nose and saying I did it because we are to be married at dawn while Arisugawa Dice stammers until he is informed that that was a lie.
But when Amemura Ramuda thumps Saburo in the back as he wheezes with laughter, his pink hair bouncing with his shaking shoulders, Saburo decides that the most shocking thing here is that he has let himself be in Fling Posse’s presence for more than seven seconds, which is the universally appropriate amount of time to be around people you dislike but have to be cordial with so as to not bring about the end of that relationship.
“I will be leaving now,” Saburo says, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see this fiasco any more.
Instead of helping him unsee the fiasco, not having to look at the mess before him leads Saburo into being a part of the mess, because Amemura Ramuda is tugging at his sleeves, saying, “Hey, hey, Saburo-kun! ♡ Let’s play some more, yeah? ☆” and Yumeno Gentaro and Arisugawa Dice are looking at him, ready to stab him if Amemura Ramuda says the word. Or maybe they’re just looking at him, but Saburo doesn’t put it past them to stab him if Amemura Ramuda says the word. Amemura Ramuda is formidable. He’s a short, pink-haired, lollipop-holding, high-pitched, Ichi-nii-hogging guy, but he is formidable. Saburo shudders when Ramuda gapes up at him, grinning from ear to ear.
For one terrifying moment, Saburo thinks that if nine million Saburos magically manifested out of thin air over here, in Shibuya, Amemura Ramuda would be able to make all of them tear up without even mentioning Nina Tucker. Amemura Ramuda is—
“So annoying!” Arisugawa Dice exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. “First, Gentaro takes my last container of food and breaks it to— I don’t even know, to ruin my clothes? To laugh as he watches me starve—”
“To save your life,” Yumeno Gentaro corrects, wiping his red-stained hands on a handkerchief.
“To piss me off,” Arisugawa Dice counter-corrects, not wiping his red-stained body on anything. “And now Ramuda’s plotting something with the Little Brother dude from Ikebukuro.” He glances down at his phone, then groans for fifteen seconds straight. Saburo thinks that’s kind of amazing, until he realizes that they’ve all been rapping a little longer than him. Of course they have good lungs. “And my lucky horse sprained his fucking ankle. I didn’t even know horses had ankles.” He throws his hands up in the air, clearly defeated. “I’m going home.”
Saburo puts himself in Arisugawa Dice’s shoes. If things went that horribly for Saburo, he’d already be in his room, buried under his coziest blanket, ready to watch his favourite anime to numb himself from the wretchedness of existence. Saburo has a newfound respect and appreciation (and a little worry, with respect to the ankle comment) for Arisugawa Dice. The guy might even be a tad — a tad — more tenacious than Ichi-nii. And since he has put himself in Arisugawa Dice’s shoes, Saburo wonders if Amemura Ramuda and Yumeno Gentaro would comfort him for his losses, just as Ichi-nii would after Saburo loses a match of Street Fighter, or if they’d goad him into feeling more frustrated as Jiro would, after Saburo would lose in a round of Mario Kart.
Saburo watches, with absolute shock, as they do neither of these. Instead, they treat Arisugawa Dice as if he is nothing but air, ignoring him as if he is a mere spam email, and continue chattering about their plans for the day. Arisugawa Dice watches, also, with absolute shock, as a a pair of women officers, dressed in their usual uniforms, walk over to him while staring at the heavily suspicious streaks of red on his clothes, and ask him to answer a couple of questions.
“Shouldn’t you… help him?” Saburo enquires tentatively, trying to understand why Yumeno Gentaro and Amemura Ramuda are talking about Castiel while their teammate gets arrested. Castiel. The guy in Supernatural.
“Eh? ☆ Dice is tough, so he can manage by himself! ♡” Amemura Ramuda is swaying from side to side, dancing along to the melodical lilt of Yumeno Gentaro’s voice as he continues talking about the introduction of the angel in season four of the show, and how the series intends to run forever.
Saburo doesn’t even think about the limited edition Neon Genesis Evangelion figurine that someone has now put up for sale here anymore. All he’s thinking about is how is Fling Posse even real. Is Fling Posse even real? Is Fling Posse a tangible entity or did everyone collectively dream them up? He has no answers, but he knows that if there were zero Saburos in Shibuya right now, this kind of question would not have even been prompted in the first place.
There are more people around them now, surely drawn in by the promise of seeing an interesting episode, what with the policewomen making Arisugawa Dice’s legs shake. Saburo doesn’t understand why Shibuya is so crowded, and why he thought splitting up from his brothers would be a good way to find that darn figurine before someone else could get to it.
“So, MC Little Brother,” Yumeno Gentaro says, his voice level and his gaze equally so. Saburo would’ve felt threatened if Arisugawa Dice wasn’t beside them, rummaging through the ten thousand pockets in his jacket and jeans and, what, wristband — why is there a pocket in his wristband? — to find a valid ID.
“Yes, MC Phantom?” Saburo says, even his voice level but his gaze only slightly so. He can’t deal with seeing so many people here; he has never been all that good with crowds. Crowds like the one he is in the middle of as Arisugawa Dice whips out his library card, then raises his hands skyward as the officers scrutinize it for a bit and walk back to their posts.
“Oh, you know me, then?” Yumeno Gentaro brings a hand up to stroke his chin as Amemura Ramuda floats around like an enthusiastic wisp of cotton candy. Of course Saburo knows Yumeno Gentaro. Who does he think compiled that well-researched file about him when Ichi-nii asked him to? Bullet-pointed, at that.
“Wait,” Arisugawa Dice cuts in. His jacket is zipped up now, but the strange smell of whatever Riou-san put in the red potion still lingers. “Do you know what my name is?”
“Yeah.” Saburo has been referring to them by their full names since he met them. In fact, the only definite thing he knows about Fling Posse is what their names are. And their occupations. Then again, that is what everyone knows about Fling Posse. But now, once he thinks about it, Saburo isn’t sure if he knows this guy’s stage name. “Arisugawa Dice. MC… Dice?”
Amemura Ramuda chortles at that, and Yumeno Gentaro isn’t doing much to hide his amusement. Arisugawa Dice frowns, and Saburo feels flustered for messing up. “It’s MC Dead or Alive.”
“Oh,” Saburo mumbles, his brows furrowing in thought. “MC Dead or Alive. So, I get to select?” Is Arisugawa Dice this much of a gambler? He’d even leave his name up as an option? “Since it sounds cooler, I choose MC Dead—”
Amemura Ramuda’s scream of laughter makes Saburo flinch so hard that he hits his hand on an IDOLiSH7 standee. For a fleeting second, Saburo likes Shibuya a hundred times better. After all, any division that appreciates IDOLiSH7 is a good division. But the second passes, and Saburo can see Amemura Ramuda losing his balance because of how hard he’s laughing, Arisugawa Dice sputtering, going GOD DAMN THAT’S NOT—, and Yumeno Gentaro wiping the corners of his eyes. What… what has Saburo done?
“I change my mind about you, Saburo-kun! ♡” Ramuda says when he swallows the last of his strawberry parfait. The last of his third strawberry parfait. "You're a fun kid. ☆"
Gentaro nods. "He sure is a precocious one." Saburo has a slight feeling that the guy's lying about that, and Gentaro also notices this because he smiles, then adds, "That isn't a lie."
They're in an average-looking family restaurant with a minimal number of diners. Saburo likes this place. The four of them are seated in a corner that gets just the right amount of sunlight, and it's also sufficiently far away from the group of elementary school kids who have made it their bounden duty to spill aerated drinks on themselves. Saburo had thought it'd be impossible to find a spot like this in such a loud and packed city, but this is a pleasant surprise.
Beside him, Dice is still glaring at Ramuda and Gentaro, nearly an hour after Saburo had unintentionally embarrassed him with the MC comment. Technically, Saburo is the one Dice should be mad at, but as it stands, it's Ramuda and Gentaro, sitting opposite them with dissimilar yet indecipherable smiles on their faces, that Dice has chosen to blame for everything. Saburo has an inkling that this happens very, very often.
"So, why are you here?" Dice asks, his gaze still focused on the two in front of them, but his question clearly directed at Saburo.
Saburo isn't sure how to frame this sentence. So he watches as Ramuda orders his fourth strawberry parfait. What sort of black hole has replaced the general area of Ramuda's stomach? No one might ever know. Why has Saburo warmed up to Fling Posse, enough to address them by their first names only? No one might ever know. Will he be able to acquire the limited edition Neon Genesis figurine before Jiro does? No one might ever—
Oh no. No, no, no, no. Saburo can't be sitting here eating chocolate coated waffles while that seller is out there with this figurine clutched in his powerful hands.
He's about to push himself up and leave so he can resume his search when he gets a text.
Saburo cannot let this happen. He has to find that figurine before Jiro. He is going to be the one who will make Ichi-nii proud. He can't believe he let himself be swayed by these three to such an extent that he forgot the primary reason he had to calculate how many of him were needed to cover the whole of Shibuya.
"I will be leaving now." Saburo wipes his chocolate-stained fingers on a tissue. He then makes an effort to stand up, but Ramuda reaches across the table and wraps his fingers around Saburo's wrist. "Wha—"
"Why're you leaving, Saburo-kun? ☆" Ramuda's cheerful voice has an undertone of danger. As always. "The person you're looking for is still near the Hachiko statue, you know? ☆” Saburo sits down again. How does he—
“Ramuda,” Gentaro chides. “You’re hiding something from us again, aren’t you?”
“Again?” Ramuda’s pitch drops at least eight hundred octaves lower. Saburo, to be honest, isn’t sure if Ramuda even said what he said. Maybe it was the old man who passed by them. Maybe it was the Salt Bae cosplayer seated on the table beside theirs. But going by the vastly differing looks that both Gentaro and Dice are sporting, Saburo might not have misheard him. Well. That’s a new discovery. Then, Ramuda laughs again, and he’s back to his usual high-spirited self. “Hehe, let it go, Gentaro! ☆”
Gentaro relents, turning his attention back to Dice, who has chosen to zip his jacket up again when Ramuda makes a joke about the red on Dice’s shirt reminding him of baboon butts. God, Saburo does not want to grow up to be like any of these three. Why is Saburo even here. Why couldn’t the figurine seller be in, he doesn’t know, Shinjuku or something. The doctor there would have even given Saburo a paper bag to carry the figurine back home, he’s sure. Why is the seller—
The seller.
“How do you know that he’s near the Hachiko statue,” Saburo asks, narrowing his eyes at Ramuda. “In fact, how did you even know I was looking for someone? I don’t recall telling you anything about the limited edition— uh, item. There’s no chance I let it slip.”
“I know everything! ♡” Ramuda says.
“A limited edition item...” Gentaro says.
“No chance,” Dice says.
Saburo really does not want to grow up to be like any of these three.
It’s an hour later that the four of them make it to the front of Shibuya Station. They could’ve been here much earlier if Ramuda hadn’t ordered another strawberry parfait, and if Dice hadn’t taken the bait when Gentaro said let’s play rock-paper-scissors to decide who pays, ten rounds, and loser of each round pays ten percent, and if he hadn’t lost so spectacularly that Saburo, despite not having lost at all, had willingly offered to split the bill with him. It was surprising when Gentaro and Ramuda waved him off and covered his share too. Maybe… Saburo was jumping to conclusions about Fling Posse just as he had with MAD TRIGGER CREW.
He turns back to them. Ramuda is hanging off Dice’s arm — singular arm — as Gentaro pretends to talk like he’s a hundred years old. Saburo turns away from them. No, he isn’t jumping to conclusions about Fling Posse as he had with MAD TRIGGER CREW. Fling Posse is just downright weird.
Saburo carefully scans the area for any individual who meets the description he was provided with when he’d dug a little deeper. A hooded figure, wears black and white Nike tennis shoes, and— and that’s it. Saburo stares at his phone as if it has grown a tail. How is he supposed to find a person wearing a hoodie and Nike tennis shoes in the middle of summer, it’s too hot to— oh. Oh. Right next to the Hachiko statue—
“There he is,” Saburo hisses, alerting the three toddlers behind him. He adds, “And there she is,” when he sees the package shaped like the limited edition Neon Genesis Evangelion figurine. He’s going to do it. He’s going to get his hands on that figurine before Jiro. He’s going to prove himself to be the worthiest brother when he hands the package to Ichi-nii tonight. He’s going to settle this power struggle between Jiro and him for the title of #1 (After Ichi-nii, Of Course) Brother once and for all.
Saburo turns back to see them one last time, and Dice flings a die towards Saburo, murmuring for luck. He doesn’t know what it is about situations like these, but there is an extraordinary pun regarding Fling Posse at the tip of his tongue. He decides that is a topic of conversation for a later date, and nods at Dice as well as the others.
As he strides towards the hooded person wearing black and white Nike tennis shoes, Saburo goes over his mathematical calculation from this morning. Nine million Saburos would be the ideal number of Saburos to cover every nook and cranny of Shibuya. Instead, the problem was that there was and is only one Saburo available for the task. He reaches the seller quietly, they nod at each other, and Saburo thinks that maybe — just maybe — one Saburo is enough.
“Hello,” Saburo says.
“Money first,” the man says.
Well. That didn’t start out quite the way Saburo expected it to. He frowns, but takes Ichi-nii’s neatly filled in cheque from his pocket anyway.
“So, here it is.” Saburo holds the cheque out to the man in the least suspicious manner possible. The last thing he wants is to be detained by the Shibuya police for illegal transactions or whatever.
The man, on the other hand, snatches the paper out of Saburo’s hands. It’s a weird thing to do, seeing how they’re under the scrutiny of all these people outside Shibuya station. It’s odd, but not too odd. He knows that a lot of people who watch as much anime as the Yamadas don’t know how much about social etiquette. One needs to lose something in order to gain something, right?
One needs to lose something in order to gain something. That’s how it’s supposed to be. And yet, the hooded person wearing black and white Nike tennis shoes is not only pocketing the cheque Saburo handed him, but is also turning and— and he’s sprinting. With the figurine.
Saburo stands there frozen in front of the Hachiko statue. He’s got thoughts of varying origins running through his mind. Ichi-nii will be disappointed in him. Jiro will make fun of him for the next fifty years. Fling Posse will use this scene as a diss against him in the upcoming division battle. Some bystander will take photos of this and post it on reddit and make him the laughing stock of the internet.
He can almost read tomorrow’s newspapers’ headline: Ikebukuro boy gets robbed in Shibuya, breaks down and brings shame to his entire dynasty.
This whole day has been a mistake. Saburo wants to chase after the seller— the scammer, but he can’t feel his legs. His thoughts are moving too fast for his body to catch up to any single one to act on it. God, he wants to sit down on the ground and cry. In fact, he’s halfway there when he hears—
A few feet away from him, Ramuda has tackled the guy to the ground, and Saburo hears Gentaro saying, “Greed is a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction. Erich Fromm.”
“Erich from? ☆”
“Erich Fromm?”
“Yeah, Erich from what? ☆”
“Erich Fromm.”
Dice groans, now, and unzips his jacket. Saburo doesn’t understand why he’s doing that until he turns his attention to the man on the ground. Ah, the stains of Riou-san’s food on Dice’s clothes are scaring him. These— these three. They’re—
Saburo is still so motionless, he doesn’t realize when Ichi-nii and Jiro bound up to him to fuss over him and the episode happening before their eyes. He also doesn’t realize when the small crowd that had gathered around them dissipates, but when it clears, Ramuda is prancing towards him, holding the wretched figurine in his hands. Rather, in his tiny hands. They make the thing look much, much bigger than it really is, and Saburo knows it’s a weird detail to focus on, but a minute ago he thought that his life as he had known it would be over, so he cuts himself some slack.
“So, you’re telling me,” Ichi-nii is saying — or is trying to say, what with Ramuda constantly trying to get on his back — when they’re all walking to the station. Thankfully, he has stopped lecturing Saburo about the consequences of putting himself through dangerous situations, and about the importance of keeping his brothers informed about his whereabouts. “Saburo is now a member of Fling Posse?”
“Yeah yeah, right, Gentaro? ♡” Ramuda has got that obnoxious look on his face. The one he always has. Saburo might have grown a little fond of it over the course of the day. A little.
“Yes,” Gentaro lies, his smile unwavering. “He’s so impressed by Dice’s lifestyle, he wants to take on the name Tulio, and Dice will choose to be called Miguel, and they plan to travel to El Dorado—” Saburo might also have grown a little fond of this particular feature of Gentaro’s personality over the course of the day. A little.
“HAH?” Jiro and Dice holler almost simultaneously.
When Saburo thinks about Shibuya and Fling Posse, he feels like although he knows more about them now, he understands much less. He’d never liked this group; always thought they were just a bunch of weirdos — and that’s the truth, to an extent. But after being in such close quarters with the three today, Saburo can’t help but feel that there are many, many more dimensions to their absurdity that they haven’t let anyone in on. And putting their weirdness aside, they are also, surprisingly, not that bad. After all, Saburo would have implemented his escape plan and would have already been on the train to see the doctor in Shinjuku by now if Fling Posse hadn’t intervened when they did.
Shibuya is so much louder and crowded than Ikebukuro. There’s laughter in every corner of every street, there’s a sort of vibe that feels fresh, and there’s a weird group of three people who didn’t turn their backs on him even though he’d wanted them to. Saburo didn’t like it at all when he got here earlier today, but now? Now he feels fully grateful.
“Here, kid.” Dice flings another die into Saburo’s hands. Fling Posse. Saburo stifles a laugh as he takes the previous die out of his pocket. “That’s one of my lucky pairs. Guaranteed one hundred percent success when you have it on you.”
“Luck…” Saburo shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “This is only ten percent. Ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent—”
Ramuda gets the reference first, and he doubles over in laughter when Ichi-nii and Jiro get it too. Gentaro mumbles something that sounds like precocious, and Dice is groaning into his hands. In fact, Jiro cackles so hard that the limited edition Neon Genesis Evangelion figurine wobbles in his grip, but he steadies himself before it falls, and tells Saburo to stop saying stupid shit.
Saburo looks up at all of them with his back to the ticket counter, and he feels fond. He has never been all that good with crowds, nor with making friends in class. But having some people he can somehow count on in different divisions doesn’t sound that bad to him. So, “Thanks for today,” Saburo says, bowing slightly.
The area of Shibuya is 15.11 km2. The area of Saburo is 1.63 m2. Now, if one was to calculate how many Saburos are needed to cover Shibuya, the first step would be to convert 15.11 km2 into m2. The answer to that is 15110000 m2. Now, this updated area of Shibuya must be divided by the area of Saburo. That would return the answer: 9269938.65 Saburos. Therefore, in order to cover the whole of Shibuya, you would need over nine million Saburos.
Except there is only one Saburo. And as it stands, that is the right answer. One Saburo was enough all along— not just for Shibuya or the figurine or anything else, but also for himself.