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“Click.”
The teacup met its saucer with a crisp sound.
The Pothos cafe, which moments ago had been packed with Furin students, was now left with nothing but the faint fragrance of black tea.
“We can make a plan about what to do with suo later. Right now, sakura needs us, so we'll have to support sakura with everything we've got!”
Umemiya flashed his juniors his usual reliable, radiant smile. But now, alone, he turned toward the night beyond the window, his expression rarely serious.
Suo Hayato.
In Umemiya’s memory of this junior, no matter how sweltering the weather, he always wore a high-collared Chinese-style top, his back straight, a polite smile on his face.
“An officer of Red Chanpuru, huh...” Umemiya murmured, stroking his chin.
If it was Suo, then it wasn’t so strange after all.
He’d heard that in the fight against Endo, the battle planning meeting for the first-years of the Tamon squad had been led by Suo.
“Using the terrain to limit how many enemies could engage at once was a clever strategy.”
Umemiya remembered Mizuki commenting exactly that at the time.
Outstanding leadership, sharp intelligence, good upbringing, and exceptional combat skill.
With all that, he was certainly able to stand on his own.
A somewhat relieved smile crossed Umemiya's face.
“You seem rather pleased?”
Kotoha, who was just clearing away the tea sets everyone had used, couldn’t help glancing at him.
“Seeing such a fine talent among my juniors, of course I'm happy, as their senior.”
Umemiya smiled, then let out a sigh, sinking back into the sofa behind him and gazing up at the ceiling.
“Still… it's a little lonely that I couldn't be someone that kid could rely on with peace of mind.”
Yeah.
Suo’s sudden withdrawal, the pain in his heart that Nirei had spoken of, the Bankokugai on the river island, the organization that existed to protect the district, the bonds thicker than blood, and finally...one of Red Chanpuru’s officers.
Once you strung those clues together, the answer was obvious.
Something had happened to Red Chanpuru.
Or rather—the Bankokugai that Red Chanpuru protected was facing some kind of crisis.
And Suo, bound by his duty, had to step forward, leaving no room to look after the Furin side.
If that was really the case, it was rather worrying.
“Another cup?”
Kotoha held the teapot out toward Umemiya.
“Sure, please.”
The reddish-brown tea poured into the cup, its steam curling up carrying the clear fragrance of tea—and with it, a gentle bitterness.
“Come to think of it, Suo seems to really like the black tea here too. He orders it every time he comes.” Kotoha poured a cup for herself and sat down across from Umemiya.
Umemiya looked at the ripples in his black tea and said nothing.
That person, probably not just because he liked it...
In Umemiya’s memory, whether at a gathering or a celebration, Suo never held anything but a cup in his hands.
What a man full of secrets he is...
Umemiya lowered his eyes and took a sip of the hot tea. Once the fragrance faded from his mouth, only a faint bitterness lingered on his tongue.
***
The next day, patrolling the streets, Umemiya was still turning the matter of Suo over in his mind.
The rooftop of Furin—that was the first place he’d ever met Suo.
Back then, the first-years of the Tamon squad had helped a middle schooler escape a pursuit by the Shishitoren. The middle schooler, new to Furin’s rooftop, had been fidgety and ill at ease, and Suo had not only keenly noticed it, but stayed by his side, patiently comforting him.
Though he’d often heard Suo’s name mentioned before, the moment he saw him, Umemiya understood.
This was a gentle person.
But soon after, in the one-on-one ring match against Shishitoren, he saw another side of Suo.
So it hadn't been simple gentleness after all.
Behind that mildness lay a severity that could even be called cold.
Especially against opponents who had no empathy, who treated others’ pain as nothing at all, Suo struck with almost no mercy left in him.
That decisiveness, carrying a hint of cold ruthlessness, made it impossible to simply file him away as “an easygoing guy.”
“To grow up is to be able to understand other people's feelings. That takes ‘imagination’ and ‘experience.’”
Hearing him leave those words for the opponent on the ring, broken down and crushed, Umemiya had thought: this kid must hold himself to the same strict standard.
And where had he gotten the “experience” that made him more mature than his peers...
Whenever Umemiya reached this point in his thoughts, his feelings always grew complicated.
But later, he had watched Suo gradually soften as he grew close to his first-year friends, even showing a childish side now and then. Umemiya had thought: at least at this age, he should be allowed to live a little more carefree.
Yet only after truly learning the weight the boy carried on his shoulders did Umemiya realize how naive he’d been.
“Umemiya!”
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
At the end of Makochi, the owner of the old, well-established bakery greeted him with an eager wave the moment he saw him.
After a few pleasantries, the man seemed to suddenly remember something. “Oh, right. That young man with the eyepatch you all were looking for a while back, any word on him?”
“Huh? You mean Suo? We found him, but the situation’s a bit complicated...”
“If that’s the case, would you mind bringing something to him for me?”
“Huh?”
“You see, earlier this month he repainted the graffiti wall outside my shop, and I still haven't had the chance to properly thank him.”
Umemiya lowered his head in thought for a moment, then broke into a bright smile.
“No problem. Leave it to me.”
The shopkeeper turned and came back out carrying a paper bag stuffed full of bread, handing it to him with a cheerful laugh.
How strange and wonderful the ties between people are. Even after someone has left, the bond that was once planted continues on.
Wasn’t the bond he’d already formed with Suo the same?
The freshly baked bread warmed his chest through the kraft paper bag.
Umemiya hugged the bag close and changed direction.
If he couldn't stop worrying, then he would go and see it for himself, that kid's other world.
***
“Kasai”—an island in the middle of the river, a place you could only reach by ferry.
And “Bankokugai” lay on this river island.
It was a street Umemiya had never seen before.
Compared to the spacious, bright Makochi, Bankokugai was older, narrower, and more cluttered. Shops lined both sides of the street with all kinds of signs—Latin letters, Chinese characters, Hangul... a jumble of scripts from different countries, as if several different worlds had been sewn together into one.
Among the passersby, some spoke English, some spoke Japanese that Umemiya could just about follow, but more spoke unfamiliar languages he couldn't understand.
The air carried scents both familiar and strange: sesame flatbread, curry, fried noodles, fried snacks. Steam rose from the street stalls, and many of the foods were ones Umemiya had never seen.
He was taking it all in with wonder when a cry suddenly rang out from up ahead.
“呀!”(“ya！”)
An elderly woman carrying a shopping bag stumbled. The bag slipped from her grip and hit the ground, apples tumbling out and rolling everywhere.
“哦，天哪……”
She bent down, but her movements were slow. Seeing this, Umemiya hurried over, crouched, and began picking up the scattered apples one by one.
“Are you alright?”
He asked with concern as he gathered them.
The old woman blinked, then offered him a grateful smile.
“真是謝謝你啊，小夥子。幫了我大忙。”
Taken aback by the sudden, unfamiliar language, Umemiya was at a loss.
“Huh? That’s Chinese, isn’t it? What does ‘xiexie’ mean again...”
“She said, thank you very much for your help.”
A familiar voice came from a small alley beside Umemiya.
Umemiya turned to look.
That eyepatch-wearing boy was no longer in Furin’s uniform. Instead, he wore a classical changshan embroidered with dark patterns.
“Long time no see, Umemiya-san.”
Suo stood in the shadow not far away, holding an apple he’d likewise picked up from the ground, an emotion in his eyes that Umemiya couldn’t read.
Suo stepped forward and handed the apple to the old woman. His face settled back into its usual smile, and he said something to her in fluent Chinese. Then the two of them turned to look at Umemiya.
Umemiya stood up, walked over to them, and—just as he had back at Furin—gave Suo a pat on the back. Then he bent down and put the apples he’d collected into the bag. In the same friendly voice he used in Makochi, he said to the old woman, “I’m honored to have been able to help.”
Suo translated for Umemiya again in Chinese. The old woman glanced over at Umemiya a few more times, then said something to Suo. Suo seemed to be taken aback for a moment, and a slightly bashful look crossed his face, one Umemiya had never seen on him. After they exchanged a few more words, the old woman looked cheerfully at Umemiya and even pressed an apple into his hands.
"It's her gift of thanks. Please accept it." Suo explained to Miyamiya, watching the old woman's back as she slowly walked away.
Just as Umemiya was about to say something, a few children at the edge of the street spotted Suo and came clamoring around him.
“Hey, Sun Fei, can I still get a meal at Hongwotu today?”
“Sure, heading over right now is perfect timing.”
“Vuvu’s sick today; could I take his portion back to him?”
“Alright then, I appreciate the trouble. Let him know I’ll drop by to see him later.”
Suo crouched down, chatting with the children in fluent English, even laughing as he ruffled one of them on the head.
Standing off to the side, watching the scene, Umemiya found it almost hard to believe.
Compared to the Suo at Furin, this Suo felt both familiar and strange.
He was as gentle and proper as he had been at Furin, but he seemed to have lost a little of that childish streak that liked to browbeat people with lofty reasoning, and gained a tolerant, powerful presence in its place.
It was plain to see that the people here adored him and leaned on him.
That feeling was a lot like way everyone in Makochi leaned on him.
Only, the place Suo stood was not that place.
It was Bankokugai.
The place Suo protected.
If at Furin he was still that polite-smiling, occasionally inscrutable, boyish junior, then here, he was more like an adult.
A man everyone needed, and who truly had the ability to answer that need.
The gaggle of children around Suo went scampering off again, noisy as ever.
Suo stood up and, as if sensing Umemiya's gaze, slowly turned his head.
The instant their eyes met, even the air seemed to stall.
“…Umemiya-san, I'm surprised you managed to find this place.”
Suo spoke first. His voice was as gentle and courteous as ever, yet carried a distance unlike any before.
Umemiya just smiled at him.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t come to take you back.”
His tone was light, as if stating some trivial matter.
“I just wanted to see whether you’d run into any trouble.”
Suo paused for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected this man standing at the pinnacle of Furin to travel all this way just to say that to him.
But when Suo looked at Umemiya again, the surprise in his eyes was quickly hidden away.
“Then I’m truly sorry you went to such trouble to come all this way. As you can see, I’m fine. You can rest easy.”
The polite, respectful speech betrayed an unbridgeable distance. He drew a clear line, as if deliberately insisting that he had already withdrawn from Furin and had nothing to do with it anymore.
“Well then…”
Before Umemiya could answer, the other boy mercilessly spoke again, as if trying to bring this meeting to a close as quickly as possible.
Just as Umemiya was about to speak up and salvage something.
“Grrrrrrumble——”
A loud sound shattered the atmosphere without warning.
Umemiya: “...”
Suo: “...”
The air went still for two seconds.
Umemiya covered his stomach, a little embarrassed.
“Haha, I guess seeing that you’re alright, Suo, I relaxed and...”
Suo looked at Umemiya in silence, then, as if giving up, let out a resigned sigh. He had never been good at dealing with this candid, guileless senior.
“...Then, let’s eat first.”
Suo stepped aside, opening the path behind him for Umemiya.
***
The place Suo took Umemiya to was a Chinese restaurant tucked deep in an alley.
The shop was small but clean. Under warm yellow lighting, the tables and chairs stood in neat rows, and an old-looking menu was pasted on the wall. The air was full of the smell of dumplings and hot soup, the kind that made you relax the moment you walked in.
Suo exchanged a few pleasantries with the owner at the counter. By the time he came back in, he was carrying two steaming bamboo baskets of xiaolongbao.
“So these are authentic Chinese xiaolongbao...”
Umemiya picked one up with careful, cautious movements. The moment he bit into it, the savory broth burst across his tongue, so hot he had to suck in a breath—and then his eyes lit up.
“This is amazing!”
His eyes sparkled, full of the joy of good food.
Across from him, Suo simply watched Umemiya quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his teacup, not picking up his chopsticks.
Before long, Umemiya noticed. His chewing slowed.
“Aren’t you eating?”
“I’m not hungry right now.”
Suo’s tone was calm, the same polite, offhand answer as always.
Umemiya studied him for a while. He didn’t call out the guard that seemed to have become a habit of his. He just smiled, and gently pushed the paper bag he’d been carrying over.
“Oh, right, almost forgot the main thing. Makochi asked me to bring this to you. They said it was to thank you for your help back then.”
The distinctive aroma of buttered bread wafted up. The familiar scent brought Suo back to that faraway shopping street, full of memories.
The distance he wore on his face finally cracked open at that moment. His expression softened considerably, and a hint of a smile faintly surfaced in his eyes.
See, there was no way this guy felt nothing for Furin or Makochi.
“...Thank you.” Suo said quietly, taking the bag of bread with both hands.
“Everyone’s actually really worried about you, you know.” Umemiya said, picking up another xiaolongbao and trying to keep his tone casual. “Though I slipped off here by myself without telling them. Otherwise, that Sakura would definitely be yelling ‘what the hell do you mean,’ and drag Nirei along to come charging over.”
At those familiar names, Suo trembled slightly and lowered his head further, his long bangs hiding the emotions churning in his eyes. From Umemiya's angle, he could only see Suo open his mouth as if to say something, but that mouth, so used to keeping secrets, in the end pressed shut again.
To keep the mood from getting too heavy, Umemiya casually changed the subject. “By the way, that kid just now, the one called ‘Vuvu.’ Is something wrong with him?”
“Eh?” Suo looked up, slightly surprised.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m pretty good at English, you know.” Umemiya made an exaggerated wounded face.
Perhaps those names of his companions had shaken him after all. This time, Suo no longer kept his defenses up as strictly as before.
“It's nothing. He probably caught a chill and has a fever. I'll go check on him later.”
“Doesn’t he have anyone to look after him at home?”
All along the way here, Umemiya had felt there was something indescribably off about Bankokugai. There were too many children, and it seemed they were allowed to go out at night with no guardians accompanying them.
“And... what is ‘Hongwotu’? All those kids earlier seemed to be heading there to eat.”
Faced with Umemiya's barrage of questions, Suo looked up and gazed at him deeply, his eyes full of complicated feelings. As if after a long struggle, he finally felt tired before this overly persistent senior, and he sighed in surrender.
“Vuvu has no parents. Or rather... a lot of the children here are like that.”
Suo’s fingertips came to rest lightly on the rim of his cup, weighing how much he should reveal to Umemiya.
“‘Hongwotu’ is a Chinese martial arts hall here called 「红涡徒」. The kitchen provides meals for its students, and at the same time does its small part for these children with nowhere to go.”
“So many children, all of them...”
So this was it. When Red Chanpuru said they “protected the neighborhood,” they meant not only defending the street's present by force, but also holding up the future of the children in it.
And now, that entire weight rested on the shoulders of this junior who was, himself, still a child.
Umemiya’s chest tightened. He couldn’t help leaning forward: “Why not ask outside welfare institutions for help? That way these children could get assistance too, and your burden would be a lot lighter...”
“My burden? It seems you really do know quite a lot about this place.”
Watching a flicker of awkwardness cross Umemiya’s face, Suo curled the corner of his mouth into a bitter, self-mocking smile.
“Welfare institutions, huh... Umemiya-san, maybe the welfare institution you grew up in was full of kind people. But not every place is like that.”
He lowered his eyes, softly stroking his cup, as if thinking about where to begin.
“They're all children from foreign lands. Their language, their appearance, even their family registry… Just look at Sakura-kun and you should understand, right? How deep-rooted the rejection and malice are, in this society, toward ‘outsiders’ who are different from everyone else.”
“...But even so, there must be some way, right?”
This time, Suo didn’t answer right away. His fingertips settled back on the cold rim of his cup. After a moment of silence, he seemed to abruptly change the subject.
“Umemiya-san, do you know how the river island here was formed?”
Umemiya was momentarily stunned.
Suo wasn’t looking at him anymore. He gazed out at the deepening night beyond the window, his tone still calm, but quieter than before.
“The river carries silt, and it piles up little by little where the channel widens. In the dry season it emerges, vegetation holds the silt in place, and it slowly expands. Only after years and years did it become what it is now.”
Only when he had said this did he finally turn his head and look at Umemiya.
“We’re the same.”
“People who drifted from place to place, cast out by this society, until we gathered here at last. Only this place... is the one place we built together, the only place that belongs to us. If even we pushed these children away, then they wouldn’t even have a last hand left to hold.”
Umemiya looked at the steadfastness flickering in Suo’s eyes, and his chest felt as though something were pressing down on it, aching in a dull, suffocating way.
He thought of the children at his own orphanage.
As the older big brother in the orphanage, his wish to protect the children was the same as Suo’s. But even the man he was now wouldn’t shoulder all of that responsibility alone.
Just as Suo had said, Umemiya had many kind adults around him who were willing to support him and listen to his troubles.
For Umemiya, who had once lost everything and then found a place to belong again, how strong a child's unease was when there was no adult to rely on, he knew better than anyone.
“Suo...”
Umemiya set down his chopsticks, his expression growing serious.
“These aren’t things you should be worrying about.”
Suo met Umemiya’s eyes directly, his gaze still calm and resolute.
Umemiya gave a wry smile.
“When I was at the home, I at least had the caretakers looking after me. Do you have any adult around you now that you can talk your troubles over with?”
Umemiya saw him lower his eyes slightly, a look of nostalgia surfacing in them—he was probably thinking of someone.
Right. Suo had once said all his martial arts were taught by his master. He sounded like a reliable person. If he were at Suo’s side, then maybe he could...
“...It’s alright, Umemiya-san.”
Just as Umemiya was thinking this, Suo spoke softly.
“Even without one, I’ll manage.”
His voice was light, yet it carried unbearably heavy information.
Behind the Suo of right now, there was no one at all.
In that moment, Umemiya found he didn't know how to respond.
“To grow up means being able to understand how others feel—that requires ‘imagination’ and ‘experience.’”
Umemiya recalled those words Suo had once spoken.
So this was it. This child had been living in this world, thinking seriously, worrying seriously, struggling seriously, all along.
Looking at the boy before him, Umemiya felt his heart ache.
Growing up... so this was the kind of place it happened in.
“We should be going, Umemiya-san.”
Suo turned his gaze back to the night, his voice returning to its usual calm.
“The last ferry will be leaving soon.”
This time, Suo said nothing more.
Tonight, he had already revealed more than enough.
***
After dinner, Suo walked Umemiya out of Bankokugai.
Along the way, Suo never once stopped greeting the people of the neighborhood.
There seemed to be no one here he didn’t know, and no language he couldn’t speak.
Suo seemed like a hub connecting the bridges between all these languages, an indispensable presence in Bankokugai.
“It's said that the connection between their people is even stronger than blood.”
Endo’s words suddenly flashed through Umemiya’s mind.
But this “indispensable” was both a bond and a shackle.
Umemiya realized again: to protect this place, Suo had wagered everything he had.
When the ferry pulled up to the dock, Suo saw Umemiya to the pier.
Standing before the ferry, Umemiya turned back to look at Suo.
“Thanks for treating me to dinner today.”
Suo shook his head.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Umemiya smiled but didn’t argue.
He looked at Suo, then at the district behind him, its lights gradually coming on.
“Everyone here really leans on you.”
Suo followed his gaze to the street behind them, then answered in a low voice: “Because here, the only way to live is by relying on each other.”
Umemiya’s feelings were complicated, but in the end, only silence remained.
The night wind blew across the river, stirring the loose hair at his forehead.
He understood that what lay between him and Suo was more than just a school, a street, or anything else.
It was the worlds each of them protected.
But even so, he still wanted to understand him, to get closer to him, to do something for him...
“I’ll come again.” Umemiya said.
Suo turned around and looked at Umemiya.
“It's the same with Furin. The bonds you formed with everyone won't change.”
Umemiya smiled at him with the same warm, big-brotherly openness he always wore back at Furin.
“Don’t ever forget that, no matter what.”
The night wind blew gently between the two of them. The thin mist over the river gradually thinned, moonlight spilling across the water in the haze, shards of light rippling softly with the waves.
The golden tassel swayed gently by his ear. At last, Suo spoke, softly: “...Mm, I see.”
The ferry’s horn sounded, and the boat began to pull away from shore.
Standing on the deck, Umemiya looked back once more at the small island wrapped in night.
Bankokugai was there. A river island that had slowly gathered people, shops, and streets, and finally become what it was now.
Eighty years ago, the first outsiders pushed away by the world came here. Eighty years later, still more wanderers with nowhere else to go chose this place.
They were thrown into the torrent of discrimination, yet they didn’t sink. Instead, they took each other’s hands and built a harbor of their own in the wind and waves.
Looking at those lights, Umemiya suddenly felt he understood Suo just a little more.
And so, watching the island recede into the distance, clutching the apple he’d gotten from Bankokugai, he stood on the deck for a very, very long time.
...
“Sun Fei, is your friend gone?”
Suo turned around to see two familiar figures.
They were his companions in Bankokugai.
“Bacchus, how did you know that person was my friend?”
“Isn’t he? Everyone says you looked happy today, didn’t you even take him to eat the most authentic xiaolongbao on the street?”
“He’s a senpai from Furin, that’s all.”
Suo turned his face away, but didn’t refute Bacchus’s words.
“What a nice guy, even bringing you bread.”
Bacchus paid no mind to Suo’s sulkiness, craning his neck to look at the paper bag hugged against his chest.
“I told you to say a proper goodbye. Now you’ve gone and made someone worry enough to come all this way.” Rakta lectured from the side in the tone of an elder.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Suo reached up and touched his face, as if checking the expression on it right now.
“Honestly, did I really look that happy?”
He remembered what the old woman had said to him earlier.
“哎呀，隼飛，學校的朋友來看你了呀。”
(“Oh , Sun Fei, your school friend have come to see you!”)
Being treated like a child was a bit embarrassing…
Suo thought: though there was no adult by his side to talk over his troubles with, he wasn’t short of people here who supported him.
“Isn’t that so? Anyone who knows you well can tell at a glance.”
Hearing that, Suo realized that his feelings for Furin might run deeper than he’d thought.
“Alright. I heard Vuvu’s sick. Let’s go see him.”
Suo did not say any of these thoughts aloud to his companions. It would only make things difficult for them.
These past few days had already been exhausting enough. He didn’t want them feeling guilty about his withdrawal on top of it all.
“Yeah, let’s go. We brought some medicine.”
Suo followed the two of them off into the distance. Before he left, he glanced back at the pier one more time.
So even across a thousand miles, the wind of Furin could cross that broad river and reach the sandbar where he stood.
At last, Suo stopped hiding the smile curving at the corner of his mouth.
At the very least, having a moment like today was enough to satisfy him.