Chapter Text
Thoma was about to lose it.
Ten. Ten times over the past two weeks have these godforsaken footprints shown up on the estate’s outer walls. Cleaning them up wasn’t the issue, no; a little soap and water took care of the job well enough. What was annoying was how he had to climb not only to the top of the walls but also on top of the roof each time just to get all of the dirt off . Honestly, who in their right mind would try to break into the Kamisato Estate this way? And who in their right mind would keep doing it?
With a sigh, Thoma dipped his mop into the nearby bucket, slapped it onto the wall, and got to work. A few back-and-forths were enough to clean the footprints there, so then onto the top he went, hoisting himself up by the eaves. True that he liked cleaning, and climbing onto rooftops wasn’t exactly difficult for him. Still, what a hassle.
In the courtyard, Furuta and the others looked on with thinly veiled concern. He did not have to return their gazes to know that they were watching—all of the servants have been on edge ever since the first night these footprints appeared. The lady of the house, too, echoed their worries. He and Ayaka had spent a great deal of time over the last two weeks checking the estate grounds for this intruder of theirs. Unfortunately, however, they weren’t able to find anything of note. Not the intruder, and not any tell-tale clues—just those footprints, the faint scent of cow, and a scattering of children’s trading cards underneath Ayato’s desk.
And speaking of Ayato—Archons forbid he take this seriously.
He’d walked up to Thoma, once, while he was cleaning off these footprints for the third or fourth time. Of course, Thoma did the sensible thing and informed him of a possible repeat intruder. Boba in hand, he’d taken one look at Thoma and offered a single beaming smile.
“Must be those pigeons again.”
Thoma almost swung the mop at his head. What sort of a response was that? But Ayato, obviously, knew exactly what he was saying. And it wasn’t fooling Thoma. If he meant to feign ignorance, no one but he and Ayaka could see through it. This, though? This was an announcement in bold letters.
Well, if Ayato had the situation under control, then there was no situation. That was how things came to operate at the Yashiro Commission as a whole. Still—even if his lord and lady weren’t in danger, Thoma’s sanity sure was. Who the hell would climb all over the roof just to get into the courtyard? The front entrance was right there. It didn’t even have a door!
Thoma continued mopping away at the dirty footprints, up until a voice called to him from behind.
“Ah, Thoma. There you are.”
A soft, even tenor, like silk. Ayato. Thoma looked over his shoulder and saw the man in question approaching from the inner courtyard, sparing a smile and a wave as he neared.
“Come down. I’m in need of your services.”
“Do you always have to say it that way?” scoffed Thoma, hopping off from the top of the wall. “What can I do for you, my lord?”
“Give me your hand.”
“Are you proposing?”
“Come, now. Furuta is watching.”
Thoma chuckled and offered his palm. Ayato reached into his sleeve, pulled out a small bag of Mora, and dropped it into his hand.
“I’m in search of something most precious and extraordinary,” he said. “If you’ll indulge me… It’s known as the Moon-Sealed Night Demon’s Blade of Winter Sorrow. Gold rare edition.”
Thoma tilted his head. “The night demon’s blade of what now?”
“Winter Sorrow. Gold rare edition.”
“So it’s a sword?”
“Well, not quite.”
“So it’s not a sword?”
“Oh, it is. In a sense.”
Thoma ran a hand through his hair. “With all due respect, my lord, if you’re sending me out to fetch something, you should probably tell me what it is.”
“But I did tell you. It’s the Moon-Sealed Night Demon’s Blade of Winter Sorrow, gold rare edition.”
“What does that even mean? Where can I even find something like that?”
“Head downtown and ask the children. One of them will surely have it in their possession.”
“Why would the kids have something like a demon sword in their possession?!”
Ayato shrugged and sipped his boba.
Thoma sighed. “Okay, alright, fine. Your wish is my command, after all… When do you need this by?”
“Tonight, if you’ll be so kind. Do forgive me for the late notice.”
“Tonight, huh,” mumbled Thoma, counting through the Mora in the bag. “Sounds urgent. Hey, this seems a little… on the skimpy side, for something like a golden demon sword.”
Ayato chuckled. “Oh, Thoma, I have the utmost faith in your abilities. Surely you’ll be able to haggle the price down like you always do?”
“500 Mora is a little difficult to work with, even for me.”
“I’m sure you’ll make do.”
“This is the price of two cuts of fish.”
“Don’t you typically bring home ten cuts with this amount?”
“Demon weaponry and seafood are sort of two different things.”
“So then, you’re saying you’re incapable of fulfilling my request?”
Thoma gave another sigh. Of course Ayato knew he would never say no—though the man sure liked to make his work more difficult from time to time.
“Alright, alright. One golden demon sword coming up,” said Thoma, slipping the coins back into the pouch. Ayato smiled broadly and patted him on the head.
“Good puppy.”
“What was that about Furuta watching?” scoffed Thoma, waving Ayato’s hand away. He pushed the mop he was holding into his chest. “Here—while I’m gone, why don’t you finish cleaning up those footprints that secret friend of yours keeps leaving behind?”
“Oh my. I didn’t expect this level of insubordination from you, of all people. Asking the lord of the house to do your work in your stead, then accusing him of sneaking in people who shouldn’t be here… That’s grounds for punishment, you know.”
Thoma waved him off with a chuckle as he left. “Let me know what you want for dinner when I get back.”
Everyone knew that Arataki Itto was the biggest and baddest oni in town. Okay, well, he was the only oni in town—which, by default, made him both the biggest and baddest but also the smallest and goodest. But that didn’t bother him, no. Particularities like that always went right over his head. That was what happened when you had the IQ of a rock.
Anyway, being the biggest and baddest oni in town, Itto had a reputation to uphold. Every now and then, he would cause some ruckus on the streets to remind people that he still existed—something like collapsing in the middle of the road after touching some tofu, for example, or trying to show off by lifting an entire vegetable cart over his head, only to slip while handling it and sending both the cart and the veggies tumbling off the edge of a cliff. Yep. That was the sort of hardcore stuff that big, bad, and brazen Arataki Itto was known for.
Today, though, he wasn’t here to brag about how big and bad he was. He wasn’t going to show off his godly muscles nor demonstrate his fearsome oni might, and he wasn’t even going to strike fear into the hearts of regular bystanders by gobbling down ten bowls of ramen in one sitting. No—today, Itto was on one mission and one mission alone: he had to win that Moon-Sealed Night Demon’s Blade of Winter Sorrow card.
Gold rare edition.
So there he went, storming through Hanamizaka with his tiddies exposed, a fire raging in his eyes, and absolutely no thoughts in his head. After all, he was Arataki “head empty” Itto, and Arataki “head empty” Itto didn’t need to think. He just needed to be a himbo. Him being all fired up like this did get bystanders wondering, though, what he was up to. And as for his motives as to why he needed this card so badly, well:
As it happened, a new expansion for one of his favorite trading card games just dropped yesterday, and he’d burnt through his savings just to buy himself a few packs. Sure, Itto didn’t actually have any money to his name, so he had to borrow from his gang, who in turn all borrowed from Shinobu... But it was fine so long as he paid her back, right? And he was so sure that he could. The fortune slip he’d drawn from the Grand Narukami Shrine promised great luck—not to mention that Itto just had a knack for this sort of intuition stuff. Yep, in addition to having incredible strength, incredible power, and incredible tiddies, Itto also had an incredibly incredible sixth sense.
That was what he kept telling himself, anyway, up until he pulled the last card from the last pack and realized he’d somehow gotten all commons.
Ask anyone in his gang and they would all recount the same scene: the great oni Itto, hunched over on all fours, scraps of wrapping paper and cheap trading cards scattered beneath him. All things considered, it was not his proudest moment.
So basically, Shinobu was going to beat his ass if he didn’t pay her back for the money he borrowed from her, and the only way he could pay her back was to get that Blade of Winter Sorrow Card. As it happened, that thing was a monster— a whopping 3,000 ATK boost on top of an initiative bonus and inherent +2 in card advantage upon summon? Itto didn’t know what half of those terms meant, but his gang buddies had said it was a really good card, and that was enough for him.
At the very least, Itto understood that having such a broken card meant he could win a bunch of games with it. And winning a bunch of games meant winning a bunch of snacks, and winning a bunch of snacks meant a bunch of stuff to pawn off for money, and having money meant eventually paying back Shinobu… Not to mention—maybe, with that card, Itto could finally win against that one person.
Unfortunately, only one Blade of Winter Sorrow had been printed, and Itto clearly did not get it.
As the afternoon sun beat down over the streets of Inazuma, Itto stormed his way toward the north part of town with fire blazing in his eyes. If he needed that card before, then he really needed it now. He figured it shouldn’t be too hard to get. All he’d have to do was find the kid who’d pulled it, beat them in a match, then walk away with a shiny new card in hand. Easy peasy Lavender Melon squeezy.
And so Itto marched straight up to a group of kids sitting at the foot of the Hanamizaka sakura, put his hands on his hips, then bellowed in his loudest, most authoritative voice:
“Alright! Which of you little punks pulled that Blade of Winter Sorrow card?”
The kids stopped what they were doing. They looked at him. They looked at each other. They looked back at him.
“Oh, that thing? Ryouta gave it to some guy offering 200 Mora and a piece of steak.”
Itto’s jaw dropped to the floor.
“W… What?!”
“Yeah, like, he came just a little while ago.”
Itto couldn’t believe it. The legendary, super-rare, super-powerful Moon-Sealed Night Demon’s Blade of Winter Sorrow… pawned away for pocket change and a piece of steak?
“Tell me it ain’t so!” he wailed. “You’re lying, right? You’re just yankin’ my chain? Tell me this is all just a joke!”
“He just whipped out his meat and started cooking it right in front of us!” said the kid, Ryouta. “Isn’t that cool? He lit his hand on fire and took out a pan and salt and pepper and everything and just cooked it! And it was like, SOOO yummy!”
“Why would you do something like that, little bro?!” cried Itto, dropping to his knees. “That card could’ve won me like, a million snacks! No—two million! You know how many snacks that is? I don’t even know how many snacks that is!”
Ryouta tilted his head. “Sorry?”
Just then, Itto had a brilliant stroke of genius. He scrambled to grab Ryouta’s collar.
“Hey— Hey hey hey! Listen, look, okay, maybe we got off on the wrong foot, but hear me out. What if—I mean hey, maybe this is wishful thinking, but—what if… You track down that dude who took that card from you, ask him for a refund, and then give that baby to me instead, yeah? Yeah? Sounds like a great idea, right? How about it?”
“But we already spent that Mora on candy.”
“Well then, ask for a refund on the candy too!”
“But we already ate the candy.”
“Then just spit it out!”
“Ewww, that’s gross.”
Defeated, Itto dropped face-first into the ground. The kids peered over him awkwardly.
“I mean, like… I guess you could go after him yourself and ask for the card.”
Itto sprung up to his feet. “I just got a great idea! I could just go after him myself and ask for the card! Which way’d he go?”
“Uhh…”
The kids randomly pointed in different directions. Itto, having the mental capacity of a donkey’s left buttcheek, took them at face value and rushed off, not another question asked.
Thoma returned to the estate by late afternoon, stepping through the doors of the Kamisato Mansion to a flood of bronzed daylight. He could not see past the partition that blocked view of the main room, but through the quiet came faint sounds of scratching and the flutter of papers—Ayato, if he had to guess, scribbling away at the documents on his desk.
“Welcome back,” came a voice, and Thoma gave a sigh before stepping into the main room.
“You know, you could have told me you weren’t looking for an actual sword.”
Ayato smiled but didn’t look up from his paperwork. As expected, he was seated at his table before the Kamisato crest, quill in hand amidst stacks upon stacks of unsigned papers. His hair shimmered a dark gold against the waning daylight, as did the accents on his clothes; Thoma might have thought him more regal than usual, were it not for the dozen empty boba containers scattered beside his seat.
“Let me guess,” said Thoma, skimming over the documents as he sat down opposite to Ayato, “more funding requests from Lady Guuji?”
“Oh, to experience life through the eyes of someone as exalted as her,” hummed Ayato, lifting a single document to the light. “‘To Lord Kamisato Ayato, on request of a biweekly 500,000 Mora stipend paid to the order of the Grand Narukami Shrine’… Laughable, isn’t it? She must think we’re made of money. Of course, you of all people know how ridiculous it sounds, given how you spend your days with 10 Mora in your pocket.”
“10 Mora goes a long way if you know what you’re doing with it,” Thoma grumbled.
“Of course, of course,” said Ayato. “Well, let’s not beat around the bush. Did you get what I asked for?”
Thoma reached into his pouch. Out came a single card lined in gold foil, with an illustration of a vicious-looking sword on the front: the so-called Moon-Sealed Night Demon’s Blade of Winter Sorrow, freshly haggled off some random kid in Hanamizaka. As Thoma slid it over the table, Ayato set down his quill and took the card into his hand, holding it up to the light for review.
“Ah, gold rare edition… Very nice.”
Thoma leaned back on both arms with a sigh of relief. “You know, Ayaka always makes sure I know exactly what I’m looking for when she sends me out to fetch things for her.”
“Do I look like Ayaka to you?”
“You might, if you put on her dress.”
“Oh, Thoma, that’s no way to speak to the lord of your clan.”
He scoffed through a smile. “Well then, forgive me, my lord, for speaking so uncouthly.”
Ayato chuckled, pocketing the card. “In any case, allow me to commend you for your work yet again. I must admit, you somehow managed to outdo my expectations and procure the card in record time. What did you offer the children in return for this treasure?”
“Oh… 200 Mora and some cooked beef.”
“Cooked beef?”
Thoma rubbed the back of his neck. “They asked for food, and I saw them staring at my Vision, so…”
“Ah, yes. It was truly fate that you would come into a Pyro Vision, Thoma. You were always meant to wow young children by flash-cooking meat in front of them.”
Thoma sighed. “My lord…”
“Hm? Yes? What is it?”
He leaned over the table with both arms, burying his head. “I can’t believe you really sent me out to fetch a single trading card.”
“Come, now. It wasn’t difficult, was it? And, just as expected, you didn’t even need to spend all of the Mora I lent you.”
“So you did know I’d have some left over, huh…”
“Of course. This is you we’re talking about, after all. Didn’t I tell you 500 would be enough?”
“No. You just talked up my haggling skills and then shamed me into leaving.”
“There you go again, lying through your teeth,” said Ayato with a smile, reaching for the quill at the corner of his desk. “I can see through all your tricks, you know.”
“And I can see through all of yours,” countered Thoma. “You haven’t been reviewing those documents from the Tenryou Commission at all lately, have you?”
“Whatever do you mean? I’ve been hard at work every night, sloughing through that paper jungle so that our fellow Tri-Commission comrades may—”
Thoma grabbed a stack of papers off Ayato’s desk and flipped through them. “None of these documents from the Tenryou Commission have been signed.”
“…So anyway, Thoma, I think I’m in the mood for hotpot tonight. Why don’t you head out and procure the strangest, most exotic ingredients known to man? I’ve heard that Naku Weed grown on Seirei Island has quite the electrifying taste.”
“Or I could probably just drop these documents into the pot, since they’re not doing anything else besides collecting dust.”
Ayato chuckled, putting his quill down again. “What’s gotten into you? You seem awfully agitated today.”
“Oh, you know. Just those pigeons again. Leaving footprints on the wall. Big, human-sized footprints.”
“Ah, yes. What a mystery.”
“Not to mention those trading cards that keep appearing under your desk, starting from the time those footprints first showed up.”
“My, what a strange coincidence.”
“And the fact that you’ve been uncharacteristically behind in your work.”
“I’m sure things would be going faster if Lady Guuji stopped with these incessant requests.”
Thoma ran his hands through his hair. “My lord... For the love of the Archons, if you’re inviting someone over to play trading card games in the dead of night, could you please just ask them to use the front entrance?”
“Hm? Oh my. Who in the world would be sneaking into our grand estate just to play trading card games?”
Thoma slammed his palms down onto the table. “Ayato—”
“Ah, that reminds me. I’m actually in need of another rare item. Thoma, would you indulge me once again? I need just a few more cards to complete my collection…”
Okay. This was fine. No big deal. No problem at all.
So what if Itto spent the last three hours trailing a single tanuki? After the way it looked at him, there was no way it wasn’t in cohorts with the dude who stole his Blade of Winter Sorrow card. Why else would it have given him such a judgmental, side-eyed look? Tanuki weren’t even supposed to be able to be judgmental. That was proof enough for Arataki “I can see right through your lies” Itto that there was something fishy going on.
So yeah—that tanuki was totally suspicious, from the top of his little tanuki nose to the tip of his little tanuki tail. Naturally, Itto spent the better part of daylight stalking the thing, under the logic that it was the card thief’s pet and would eventually run off to meet with him. Sure, Itto hadn’t ever heard of anyone having a tanuki for a pet, but given that his life partner was a literal cow, anything was possible.
What ended up happening, though, wasn’t anything like Itto had anticipated. He couldn’t catch the card thief—never even saw the guy, actually—and instead, his time was spent watching a single tanuki nibble on some berries, play with some rocks, stare at some statues, and then take a nap for two hours. At some point, Itto also got himself tangled in some vines halfway down a cliffside and spent an hour dangling there in midair… but as far as he was concerned, that never happened.
Needless to say, Itto eventually returned to Hanamizaka looking a little worse for wear. Some leaves in his hair, some nicks on his horns—nothing a bit of grooming wouldn’t fix, but the disheveled look coupled with his slouched shoulders and dejected face garnered quite some concern from his fellow gang members, who’d all swarmed him upon his arrival.
“Boss! What happened? Did you run into some nasty Doushin again? Get held up by border patrol?”
“No, no, not anything like that,” sighed Itto. “It was just a little dude… A little dude with some big balls.”
All of the gang members gasped, but no one really knew why.
Of course, Arataki Itto wouldn’t be Arataki Itto if he didn’t bounce back quickly. And so he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and lifted a single hand.
“But! No need for concern. Your oh-so-capable and terrifyingly responsible boss has taken care of the issue. You can thank me later, heh.”
“Yeah!” cheered the gang members in unison. “Oh, but, Boss? What exactly was the issue?”
“So anyway!” said Itto, shamelessly changing the subject. “Listen up, boys! I need your help with something, and it’s gonna take all of our collective strength and willpower to get this done! …Everyone except Shinobu, of course. No one tell her about this, you hear?”
“Understood, Boss!”
“Okay! Everyone, huddle up!” said Itto. Once they were all in position, he lowered his voice to a very loud whisper, attracting the attention of just about everyone nearby.
“So… You all know that card I was supposed to pull last night?”
“Shade of Bitter Star Crow!”
“Plaid of Thinner Borrow!”
“Maid of Sinner Far Throw!”
“…Yyyyyeah close enough! It’s the Blade of Winter Sorrow! And as of right now, this moment… We’re totally giving up on looking for it!”
All of the gang members gasped, again. “But why? Didn’t you really need that card?”
“Hah! You boys know I’d never give up on something if I didn’t have a plan. And boy, does this oni have a plan,” Itto said, grinning. “You ever hear that one saying? You know, the— The, uh, the one about not kicking something a thousand times? Or, wait, was that the one about mastering a kick a thousand times, and not just kicking something one time… Or wait, was that the… Anyway never mind! Point is, I was thinkin’, isn’t it better to bet all your eggs on a dozen little baskets instead of counting on a single one?”
“We have no idea what you’re talking about, Boss, but we agree!”
“Hell yeah!”
“You’re the best, Boss!”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Itto said. “Better to master a thousand kicks than to master one! Which is exactly why, instead of getting one card that’s number one, we’ll get, like, a million cards that are number two! And that way, we’ll be number one! Power in numbers, baby! I mean, you guys get me, right? Things are always better when you have support! Being alone is like, super lame!”
“Yeah!”
“For real!”
“That’s why we’re always together, Boss!”
Itto wiped a manly tear away from his eye. “I love you guys, you know that? Bros for life!”
“Bros for life! Bros for life!”
“Alright, then! It’s settled! You all are coming with me on a little shopping trip around town! Let’s go talk to every kid we can find and fight them for their cards! Fair and square of course, because we’re gentlemen!”
“Yeaaaah! Yeaaaaaaah!”
Itto and his gang marched away, spirits high with fists pumping in the air. Shinobu, who’d been watching the whole thing from a few steps away, just sighed and continued nibbling on her piece of yakitori.
One last time, Thoma ran over the list of cards Ayato had given him. Chiyuki, the Heavenly Seven-Tailed Silversilk Kitsune—check. Lynvaria, Grand Arbiter of the Seventh Twilight Requiem—check. Amaryllis the Nocturne Weaver, Banished Archdemon of Vespers—check. And just about ten more cards with equally ridiculously long names—check.
His eyes fell to the bottom of the list. Only one card left—but it seemed to be rather elusive, and Thoma had yet to garner any luck even finding anyone who recognized its name. Without knowing the first thing about trading cards, he could only assume that the card was either so rare that most didn’t know of its existence, or it was so unwanted that people didn’t think twice after finding one in a card pack.
Knowing his lord, though, it was more likely that it was the former. And that just made his job all the more difficult.
Thoma sighed and started to make his rounds again, slipping through the thinning crowds of Tenryou’s market street to head north. He hadn’t had much luck here regarding this particular card, so it was off to Hanamizaka for one last push. Honestly, Thoma never minded being sent out on fetch quests like this—it was literally the job he’d volunteered for and what he devoted his life to doing—but there was the matter of the dinner he’d yet to cook, and the footprints still on the roof…
He shook his head, picking up the pace. That just meant he had to up his game. If Ayato wanted it, then Thoma would make it so. Celestia would fall from the heavens before he ever failed his lord.
Sunset had already taken the sky by the time Thoma stepped off that last flight of steps and entered Hanamizaka. Some people waved at him as he passed by—namely Sango, who was standing outside her detective agency, and Yoimiya’s father, who tried to stop him for a chat—but unfortunately Thoma had to turn down any and all attempts of small talk. The sun was already halfway sunken, and the shadows of sakura stretched long over the streets. If he wanted to make it back to the estate in time to make dinner, he had to hurry.
“Hey, look! It’s the Steak Guy!”
A call from some ways away. Thoma recognized the voice—it was one of the children from earlier. But by the time he turned his head, the kids had already swarmed him, bouncing up and down with eyes gleaming.
“Steak Guy! Steak Guy! Did you bring any more yummy food for us?”
Thoma chuckled. “That depends on if you have another card I’m looking for.”
They flung open their bags. “What’cha need this time?”
Thoma leaned down and ran his eyes over the heaps of cards. There were plain cards, shiny cards, shinier cards, cards that looked like they’d survived seventeen runs through the laundry, and cards that looked so pristine they probably belonged in a museum—none of which Thoma understood whatsoever, though, so with a sheepish chuckle he took out Ayato’s note and showed it to the kids.
“Uhh… This one?”
“Oh, that one!”
One of the kids dove into his stash, digging out a card and holding it up in the air. “I just got it this morning. It’s suuuper strong, though, so I’m not giving it up that easily!”
Thoma reached into his pouch. “Who likes dango?”
Two seconds later, he was waving goodbye to the kids, card in hand and the sun to his back. Simple as simple could be—Thoma loved easy negotiations, but he loved it even more when the other party walked away happy as well. The kids waved after him with cheeks stuffed full of dango, some jumping in place with both hands in the air.
Finally, his job here was done. He’d already bought the ingredients he needed for dinner while he was at the market earlier, so all that was left to do now was hurry home. With one last look at Ayato’s list, Thoma turned northward and started off on his way.
Well—he would have started off on his way, if someone didn’t start screaming like a maniac from the other end of the street.
“Hey! Hey!! HEY!!"
Thoma barely had time to react. The moment he turned around, someone slammed into him from the front—and Thoma was treated to a face full of rock-hard tiddy as they both crashed into the ground.
Thoma was no stranger to near-death experiences. Even ten years down the line, he could still so vividly remember the bolt of lightning that eviscerated his little Mondstadt ship: a single strike, white like snow, that smashed into the deck and sent the whole thing into splinters. He could still hear the roar of the waves that night, feel the tug of the sea and the sting of brine on his tongue. It was that taste—slipping down his throat, filling his lungs—that yet unsettled him to this day, though he had long overcome his fear of the ocean. That, coupled with all the times Ayato had walked into the kitchen and walked out with an abomination of nature, was why Thoma could stare death so boldly in the eyes.
But this? It was hard to stare at anything when his face was full of man booby.
Thoma’s hands twitched as sparks of flame gathered at his fingertips. Whoever had slammed into him, he could only assume that he was made of pure muscle, or least some part Geo elemental, given the crushing weight. Either way, Thoma was having a really hard time trying to stay alive with the dude’s massive chest over his face. In fact, one could say he was even having a bad time, or even a terrible time, since he couldn’t breathe, and breathing was generally necessary for life.
“Oh— Oh, shoot! Sorry! I always forget you’re supposed to stop after you charge at someone like that!”
The guy lifted himself off, and Thoma took a huge breath of air as he thanked the Archons for allowing him to live to see another day. Before he could pick himself back up, though, the dude grabbed him by the collar with a single hand and hoisted him back to his feet. He wobbled a bit, finding his balance, only to nearly fall over when the guy spoke up again.
“Wh— Wait a minute, Thoma?! Bro! Bro, is that you?!”
Thoma blinked, finally lifting his eyes. Irises as red as blood, hair a dusty silver—sure enough, it was Arataki “the greatest oni around” Itto, standing before him in all of his great oni glory.
“Itto!” said Thoma, smiling warmly. “Hey, long time no see!”
“Heck yeah! It’s been like, uh… More than two days, that’s for sure! Come here, my man!”
Itto grabbed Thoma and hugged him so hard he had his second near-death experience that day.
“Well, well, well! Didn’t expect to run into you here, of all people!” said Itto, upon letting him go. “What brings you downtown? Got some streets to sweep? Houses to keep?”
“Just out running some errands, actually,” chuckled Thoma. “What about you guys?”
He gave Itto another look. His muscles glistened under the sun, slick with sweat, and three of his gang members stood behind him, hunched over and looking a bit worn. Whatever they’d been doing, it clearly involved a lot of running around.
“Haha! Thoma, my man, you know the Arataki Gang is always hard at work making the world a better place,” said Itto, slicking back his hair. “Get this—there’s been some sorta con man runnin’ around, scamming things from kids! Can you believe it? The nerve! The audacity! What sorta lowlife has to target the little ones just to make a quick Mora? I’d rather starve than stoop to that level, I’ll tell ya that!”
“A con man?” hummed Thoma, pausing to think. He’d caught his fair share of con men and even landed quite a few of them in prison himself, though he couldn’t remember any that had recently been released. Someone new, then?
“Have you told the Tenryou Commission?” he asked, to which Itto burst out laughing.
“Pfft, ahahahahahaha! You really think those punks could do anything? They couldn’t catch a criminal even if he walked up to them and threw a bull at their faces! Hahahaha!”
“Um, Boss?” spoke one of the gang members from behind him. “The Tenryou Commission did catch you that time… You were in jail for two weeks...”
“Hahaha… haha… ah. Uh. Well. So anyway—” Itto cleared his throat and flicked a lock of hair over his shoulder. “We, the selfless and heroic Arataki Gang, have been trying to catch that dastardly crook aaaaall day! My good, outstanding citizen Thoma… Since you’re so good and outstanding, what’dya say about helping us catch this guy? You could totally, like, help us clean up this case… or, heh, wipe the floor with him if he tries to retaliate… Yeah? Yeah? You feelin’ me? You sniffin’ what I’m fartin’ here? Y’know, like, since you’re such an amazing housekeeper and all, heh.”
Thoma chuckled. “Well… I do have to head home soon to make dinner, but I can spare a bit of time to help you out while I’m here. What exactly are we looking for? Have you seen the guy?”
“I totally did! Just now, actually!” said Itto.
“What, seriously? What’d he look like?”
“Ohh, you won’t believe this!” said Itto, clenching a fist. “He had blonde hair, just like you, and wore red clothes, just like you! And I think he was, like—” Itto put a hand on Thoma’s head. “—exactly this tall!”
Thoma stared at Itto for a long, long time.
“So, uh… This con man of yours… Looks like me?”
“Huh…” Itto took a step back, a hand to his chin. “Actually, yeah, now that you mention it, he does look a whole lot like you! What a coincidence eh, bro? That’s probably why I mistook you as him just now and tackled you—sorry about that again, by the way—but I coulda sworn I saw him walking off with another card he scammed off a poor kid!”
“Card? Like, trading card?”
“Yeah, yeah!” said Itto. “So, get this: me and the boys have been trying to pick up some cards all day, but someone keeps nabbing ‘em right before we get there! It’s almost like the dude has it out for us specifically! But the worst part? He’s not even trading cards for cards, like you’re supposed to! I mean, hello? They’re called trading cards for a reason! Whoever this guy is, he’s been handing out candy and flash-cooked pieces of steak or whatever, like—ugh! Who does that? ‘Oh, look at me, I can summon fire at will, I’m so cool, I can cook food wherever I go!’ Dude probably has a Pyro Vision or something, which is like, pfft, whatever, I mean, okay, sure, I get it, being able to light things on fire whenever you want comes in handy and all, but you know what’s better? Being able to do this!”
Itto created exactly one rock using his Geo Vision and chucked it into the sky.
“Yeah! You see that? You all saw that, right? Now that’s what you call hardcore! Get it? ‘Cause like, it was a rock, and rocks are hard, so it was literally hard core.”
Thoma glanced awkwardly at the Arataki Gang members behind Itto, who all turned away to avoid eye contact.
“So yeah!” continued Itto, dusting off his hands. “We all concluded that the guy has to be some sort of con artist. I mean, come on—scamming kids, nabbing all of the cards we’re after right before we get to them? That’s just a little too suspicious, if you ask me!”
“By any chance,” said Thoma, “have you considered the possibility that the guy isn’t actually scamming children?”
Itto burst out laughing. “Good one, bro! You are one funny dude, I tell ya that.”
Thoma chuckled nervously. “No… Seriously.”
“Huh? What’dya mean, ‘seriously’?” said Itto. “Come on, man, everyone knows it’s super weird to trade a fully cooked steak for a trading card.”
Thoma couldn’t argue with that. But it wasn’t like it had entirely been his idea either, given how the kids had asked him for food and wanted to see him light something on fire.
“So, uh, any idea on who it might be?” asked Thoma.
Itto put a hand to his chin and closed his eyes, detective-style. “Hm… Hm. Blonde hair, red clothes, kinda tall but not really, and has a Pyro Vision… Who do we know who fits that description?” He turned around to face his gang members. “Any ideas?”
They all looked at Thoma. “Uh…”
“No? Darn! I thought for sure that sounded familiar,” said Itto, snapping his fingers. “Ah, well, I guess there’s one last thing we haven’t tried.”
“And what’s that?”
Itto pointed a finger dramatically at a group of kids in the distance, the same that Thoma had just walked away from. “We can try talking to the children directly! Come on, boys! Let’s go interrogate some little kids!”
Itto marched off before anyone else could get a word in. The gang members all looked at Thoma apologetically before hurrying off to catch up with their boss. Thoma, in turn, sighed and walked after them. No use in running now.
“Heeeey, if it isn’t my favorite shorties!” said Itto, spreading his arms as he approached the group of children. “How’re you all doin’? Long time no see!”
“You just came here ten minutes ago,” said one of the kids.
Itto scoffed. “Well, yeah! But ten minutes is a super long time for, like, a goldfish or something! They only live like fifteen minutes!”
“Yoimiya’s goldfish is at least ten years old.”
“I have one too and it’s still alive.”
“Did you mean fifteen years?”
“If you think ten minutes is a long time, are you saying you’re a goldfish?”
“Semantics, semantics!” Itto said, waving a hand. “Listen—look. I’m just here to do my job. Kick gum, chew ass, fight off bad guys—you know, the whole deal. And right now, I’m after a real bad crook: the dude who scammed you off your cards!”
The kids all looked at each other. “Scammed?”
“Yeah, just now! Have you seen him?” said Itto, to a round of confused looks from the kids. “Come on, you’ve gotta know who I’m talking about. The dude who gave you that steak?”
“Oh, him? Yeah, he’s standing right there!”
Thoma braced himself. Not like he’d been in hiding or on the run this whole time—but talking to Itto sure did make him feel like he’d been doing something he shouldn’t have.
And boy, did the look on Itto’s face just then make him feel ten times as guilty.
When Itto turned to look at him, it were as though time itself had stopped. The smile faded from his lips. His eyes widened with shock. And for a while, he stood there in silence, as though a thousand words lay on his tongue but he had not the strength to speak them into being.
When finally he did talk, his voice came on a whisper, as though his heart had just broken in two.
“Thoma…” said Itto, lips quivering. “Bro… It was you?”
Continued in Part 2!