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“General Kujou, you have a visitor.”
Sara looked up from her desk to see a Tenryou soldier, Niko, standing in her office doorway. Halfway down the corridor behind him was an unmistakeable figure.
She squeezed her quill between her fingers. “No, I don't.”
“Oh.” Niko glanced behind him in confusion, then back again. “I'm afraid he was quite insistent that you meet him at this time.”
Sara exhaled slowly. Niko was right, of course. She had made a promise to meet a certain someone this afternoon, and like a seasonal flu, the appointment had crept up without her realising. She just didn't want to go to it.
Pursing her lips, she leaned to the side to catch another glimpse of the man in the corridor. Luckily, he was several doors down and busying himself by gawking at the painted scrolls on the walls.
“Why was he even allowed to come this far into the headquarters?” she hissed.
“As I said, General, he was, uh, insistent .”
Sara grimaced. She could well imagine.
“Tell him he'll have to wait until I've finished my work,” she said.
Niko looked like she'd just ordered him to fight a Mitachurl with his bare fists. “How long should I tell him?”
As long as it takes for him to get bored and leave me alone, she almost snapped, though she stopped herself before the words could leave her mouth. It wasn't the soldier's fault she'd damned herself to spending the afternoon with an idiot.
“Just... say I'm busy,” she said with a wave of the hand. “The sooner I get this report done, the sooner I can see to him.”
And the sooner it'll end, she added mentally.
Once Niko had slid the door shut and left her alone in her office, Sara sighed again. She usually attended her appointments like clockwork, but this was an exception. The idea of spending just five minutes with Arataki Itto filled her with the kind of dread not even a battle could inspire. The man was a loudmouthed, unemployed lout, the likes of which Sara wouldn't normally so much as speak to, let alone mingle with.
Still, it would all be worth it in the end. She'd struck a deal with Itto: if she gave him an afternoon of her time, he'd stop his constant harassment for good. That meant no more standing outside the Tenryou Commission Headquarters shouting for her to fight him; no more childish messages left on notice boards across the city; and certainly no more boasts that the pair of them were preparing a 'rematch for the ages', whatever that was supposed to mean. She would be free at last.
Sara looked down at the report before her. She'd lied to Niko. The deadline was actually in three days and there was no need for her to rush through it. She'd just wanted an excuse to put the meeting off.
Defeated, she slammed her quill into her ink pot and pushed out her chair. There was no use delaying the inevitable. Better to get this awful day over with.
*
The man walking beside Sara was wide-shouldered, dressed about as inappropriately as she could imagine for the biting winter chill in the air, and tall. Stupidly tall. Why someone needed so much height on them, she had no idea.
Worst of all, he wouldn't. Stop. Talking.
“So, we meet again at last, Kujou Tengu,” he said, breaking away from whatever subject he'd been prattling on about. “I'm surprised you're actually here with me. Keep thinking I'm gonna close my eyes and this'll all be a dream, y'know?”
You're not the only one, Sara thought to herself. She'd been trying her best not to look at Itto while they'd been crossing the Tenryou Commission courtyard. Now, as they made their way along the snow-dusted street towards the upper city, she was starting to feel the weight of people's gazes on her. She'd been expecting as much. It was only natural that the citizens of Inazuma City would wonder what in the name of the Archons the General of the Shogun's army was doing with the leader of the Arataki Gang.
“Hey, are you listening?” asked Itto with a laugh. “Feels like I'm talking to myself here.”
Something grabbed Sara by the shoulder, and she saw red. She spun around, slapped Itto's hand away, and hissed, “Let's lay out some ground rules here. You do not touch me. You do not talk down to me. If I sense you so much as mention a fight, this appointment will be over. Do you understand?”
Itto stared at her with wide eyes, visibly shocked by her sudden outburst. Then he laughed. “And here I was planning on picking you up and carrying you on my shoulders.” He raised his hands defensively when Sara glared at him. “A joke, just a joke.”
Rolling her eyes, Sara continued her march towards the city. Itto followed her.
“What do you weigh, anyway? Not that it would be much of a problem for me. You don't get arms like these from lifting feathers. I bet you're really light, though. Your bones are probably hollow like a bird, being a Tengu, and all.”
Sara gritted her teeth. It was going to be a long afternoon.
*
“Here we go.”
Sara looked around the empty izakaya they were standing in the door of. She'd heard of the Uyuu Restaurant before, but never actually been inside on account of the fact she rarely visited the area of the city below Tenryou. The place seemed pleasant enough, with dark wood counters and hanging paper lanterns giving it a casual but cosy feel. In any case, it certainly beat staying out in the cold.
“Arataki Itto!” The answering voice came from an elderly man, who approached the pair from across the room with a grin on his face. “I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon. And you've brought a lady friend...”
The man paled as his eyes fell on Sara. “General Kujou. Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Relax,” she said in the most gentle voice she could manage. The poor bastard probably thought he was about to be arrested.
“She's with me,” said Itto proudly. “I've booked her off for the rest of the day.”
“For official purposes, of course,” Sara added quickly, giving him a look.
The man's expression remained wary, though his tone lightened a little as he gestured towards the counter and said, “I'm afraid we only have stools available right now, but I could always set up a table if you—”
“Stools would be perfect,” Sara cut in. The last thing she wanted to do was draw even more attention to herself.
They took their places at the end of the counter, with Sara choosing the stool closer to the wall. If she positioned herself just right, Itto's bulk would hide her from any customers coming in through the door.
“So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked once they'd ordered drinks.
“Talk? Oh, right.” Itto leaned back on his stool and crossed his arms over his chest. “You owe me a fight, Kujou Tengu.”
Irritation prickled beneath Sara's skin. “I thought I made myself clear—”
“I remember your rules, don't worry,” said Itto with a grin. He reached up to thumb the Vision that hung around his neck. “Now that I have this little trinket back, I'm not so interested in revenge. However, we still have a score to settle.”
Deep down, Sara had known it would boil down to this. Itto was like a big child. The more he was forbidden from talking about a subject, the more he kept on pushing and pushing it. And it wasn't like he had any other reason to talk to her. For Sara, the last few months had been hell. Most people grew listless when their Visions were confiscated; Itto, on the other hand, had pursued a furious path of going after the one who had taken it away. It was foolish to expect him to just drop all that on command.
“How do you suppose we settle it, then?” Sara asked.
“Why do you think I've brought you here?” Itto gestured around him with one hand. “This isn't just any izakaya , but the best noodle restaurant in the city and home of the tastiest wanko soba around.”
“Excuse me?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Here, General Kujou.”
Sara looked back to the front to see the old man standing on the other side of the counter. The bowl in his hand was shallow, more fit to hold rice than a noodle dish. “You put the soba in here, finish it quickly, and then it's refilled. The goal is to eat them quickly and see how many you can manage.”
Sara had heard of the dish before, but never actually partaken. In her eyes, food was made to be savoured, not scarfed down as quickly as possible. She turned to Itto with wide eyes. “You brought me all the way here for an eating contest?”
The laugh Itto let out practically shook the wood beneath Sara's legs. “You look so outraged! I promised you no fights, but you didn’t say anything about a contest. In fact, you don't even have to think of it competitively. It could be more like a...” He paused. “A reconciliation dinner, y'know?”
Or a date. Sara had no idea why she suspected that was what Itto had been about to say. She quickly dismissed the idea; yet here they were, sitting side by side about to share a meal together. Even though Sara knew she was only with him on official matters, to the casual observer, the situation no doubt looked a lot different.
The thought left her feeling cold.
“We've never been friends. There's nothing to reconcile,” she said stiffly.
“So why not start now?” Itto jabbed her ribs with his elbow, almost knocking her off her stool. “We have a lot in common, you and me.”
“And you do look like a charming couple,” said the old man, finally cracking a smile.
A couple. The words hit Sara like a bolt to the chest.
She couldn't do this anymore.
Muttering an apology to the owner, Sara pushed back her stool, dropped to the ground and rushed out of the door.
“Hey, hey, hey!”
She'd barely managed to walk two steps away from the restaurant when a hand caught her wrist. Sara wrenched herself free and spun to face Itto. “I told you not to touch me.”
For the first time since their meeting, he wasn't smiling. “And I wasn't expecting you to walk out on our reservation.”
“A couple.” Sara could feel her cheeks burning at the mere mention of the word. “Is that what you think we are? Is this all some stupid excuse to take me on a date?”
“Of course not. I don't think he meant it like that.” Itto scratched his head and sighed. “Look, come inside, will you? We can talk there.”
If Sara hadn't known better, she'd think that she detected genuine concern in his voice. But it was too little too late.
“I'm done talking,” she snapped.
She turned away from Itto and started to march towards the Tenryou headquarters, when all of a sudden, the ground shifted beneath her foot. The world flipped upside down, something cracked, and Sara's consciousness was snuffed out like a flame.
*
The first thing Sara saw when she opened her eyes was the ground bobbing before her.
She felt weightless. In fact, she might have thought she was floating were it not for the pressure on her hips and the pain that spread across her forehead. It took her a moment to realise she was being carried on someone's shoulders.
“Hey,” she mumbled, shocked at how weak her voice sounded. “P-put me down...”
No response came, so she raised her hands, which felt like dead weights on the end of her arms, and hammered them against the back she was slung over. “I t-told you—”
“Not to touch. Yeah, yeah,” said Itto, his voice sounding strangely distant despite how close he was. “I was hardly going to leave you there in the middle of the street, though.”
Sara gave herself a few moments to process his words. The middle of the street... Oh, that was right. She'd slipped on something outside the restaurant – probably a patch of ice – fallen backwards and hit the stones hard enough to knock herself out.
Except they were no longer travelling over stones. The ground in front of Sara's face looked like dirt, and she could see grass in her peripheral vision.
“Where are we?” she muttered.
“See for yourself.”
Itto came to a stop and slowly pulled Sara off his shoulder. He handled her as if he were afraid she might shatter like glass – and judging from the size of his hands on her thighs as he placed her down, Sara could understand why. She'd already commented inwardly about his height, but now that she was pressed up against him, she realised with a start just how daunting his size really was. Pitted against him in a bare-knuckle fight, she'd have no chance. He could have snapped her in half like a twig while she'd been unconscious, kidnapped her for a ransom, and she'd have been helpless to defend herself.
But he hadn't.
Looking around, Sara realised they were in Hanamizaka, the lowest tier of the city. Surrounding them were grassy snow-spotted pastures and houses interspersed with sakura trees, their branches bare and wiry now that they'd lost their leaves. She could hear a brook running nearby. She was surprised it was still flowing with the temperatures as low as they were.
“I figured you needed some open space after your fall,” Itto said. “I have a safe house nearby. I'd be happy to patch you up if you'd let me.”
Strangely enough, that sounded like he was asking her permission. Sara snorted. “You'll do it even if I tell you not to.”
“Well, I'm not exactly going to let you bleed out in the snow, am I?”
Sara stiffened. Was she bleeding? Slowly, she raised a hand to her head, but even such a simple move knocked her off balance. If Itto hadn't grabbed her waist, she'd have toppled to the ground again.
“Whoa, there,” he muttered. “Let's start moving slowly, shall we? One foot at a time. I've got you.”
Normally, Sara would have died before letting herself be guided along like a child like this, but owing to the fact she could barely stand up on her own, she was grudgingly grateful for the support.
“Look,” said Itto with a sigh once they'd been walking for a few minutes, “I know today wasn't exactly a success. If I'd known things would end up the way they did, I wouldn't have asked you out.”
Sara had to bite her tongue to keep from cutting in. Perhaps, just this once, it would be worth it to let him carry on talking.
“I guess I just wanted to get to know you,” Itto continued. “I've caused you so much trouble these past few months, I wanted to make it up to you. Take you somewhere nice, fool around.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a date,” she said.
“Nah. You're pretty and all, but that wasn't a date.”
Sara's foot caught on a rock embedded into the path, and for a second time, she almost tripped. Itto's hand squeezed her waist to keep her upright. Sara couldn't say why, but the feeling made her heart jump.
“Men who call me pretty don't usually live long enough to do it again,” she said, frowning despite the pain.
“Are you challenging me to a fight?”
When Sara stayed quiet, Itto giggled. “We still have that score to settle, y'know. Don't think I'm forgetting it just because you sustained a little head wound. The Great Arataki Itto will not be swayed so easily.”
The boast seemed ludicrous given the timing, but Sara couldn't help but smile anyway. Perhaps it was on account of the concussion; or maybe, just maybe, she was finally starting to warm to Itto.
No, that was the wrong word. The man still irritated her to no end, and just the sound of his voice made her want to fall unconscious again so she wouldn't have to hear it. But for the first time this afternoon, she didn't have the urge to slap his hands away.
Tolerate. She was starting to tolerate Itto.
It was better than flat-out hating him, she supposed.
Carefully, Sara reached across her waist and held onto his wrist. Purely for support, of course. Never mind that her heart was jumping again. She could sort out whatever complicated emotions were brewing inside her later when her head was clear. For now, she supposed it was nice simply to be held.