“Come on, I’m begging you! I’ll even pay for you! Okay?”
“Are you serious? Ugh …”
Itadori started fishing out some change, but Fushiguro put in his own money and sat at the opposing screen. Perhaps he had crumbled in the face of Itadori’s persistence, or maybe he just didn’t want to watch him grovel.
After all, fighting games are more fun with two players than one.
Itadori, who was immensely grateful to Fushiguro for joining, cheerfully selected his character. “All right, I’m President Yamada.”
“And … I’m Subsection Manager Osaki,” Fushiguro said.
“Seriously? That’s the default starting character! Well, he’s probably easy to use, so he’s perfect for a beginner like you, Fushiguro.”
“Didn’t you say this is your first time too?”
“Well, before you got here, I made it to the third screen in arcade mode,” Itadori boasted.
“Sounds weak to me.”
The two began playing.
“Take that!” Itadori said. “In just fifteen minutes I’ve developed a technique for certain victory!”
“What a short training period.”
Itadori began by attacking with a barrage of Business Card Shuriken, which only required a simple command. Meanwhile, Fushiguro had Subsection Manager Osaki jump to avoid President Yamada’s shuriken bursts as he closed the distance. Then he executed a sudden dive into a strong kick, which he followed by throwing his opponent against the wall and delivering a flurry of blows.
“Huh? Hold on, Fushiguro! You’ve got me pinned! No fair!”
“Uh …”
Light punch, light punch, medium kick, medium kick … Fushiguro built up his Overtime Gauge through a vicious onslaught and then used it to finish off his opponent with the killer technique Fists of Overtime Fury.
It was a brilliant victory.
“No way! What the … ?! Fushiguro! How’d you know that special move?! Are you actually good at this game?!”
“There’s a list of controls over the screen.”
“You cheated!” Itadori said.
“Maybe you’re just no good at video games.”
“Well, if I’d known the commands, I wouldn’t have lost! Let’s play again! One more round!”
“Give me a break,” Fushiguro said. “Are you really putting in more coins?”
After a full hour of combat, Itadori had more losses than wins.
The two of them were feeling drained as they went down to the floor with the crane games and bought a couple of sodas from the vending machines. After the heat of battle had cooled, they felt something like a comedown, and the decrease in their energy levels was evident on their faces.
“Aw … Why did I waste a thousand yen on that dumb game?” Itadori hung his head.
Fushiguro looked at him like he was an utter fool. “If you’re satisfied now, let’s get out of here. Game centers are good for passing time, but they’ll also eat up your cash.”
“That’s for sure. Oh, hey!”
“What? If you’ve found another ridiculous game you want to play, I will not be not joining you this time,” Fushiguro said.
“No, that’s not it. Look, Fushiguro! Over there!”
Fushiguro narrowed his eyes and reluctantly turned in the direction Itadori was pointing. His eyes widened in surprise. “Gojo Sensei?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” Itadori said.
Without a doubt, the person they were looking at was none other than Satoru Gojo. After all, who but Gojo would stroll around in the dim light of a game center wearing black clothes with a black blindfold over his eyes?
“Huh? Um, Fushiguro? What is Gojo Sensei doing?”
“He’s playing a crane game,” Fushiguro said. “To win snacks.”
“But why? He came to a game center alone to play crane games because he got the munchies?!”
“Hey, don’t ask me,” replied Fushiguro. “How should I know?”
“Oh,” said Itadori. “He gave up!”
“That was fast.”
Pouting in dissatisfaction, Gojo swaggered toward the game center’s exit.
His behavior was hard to understand, but Gojo had always been hard to understand. Fushiguro decided not to think about it too much.
Itadori had other ideas. “Let’s follow him,” he said.
“And why would we do that?”
Itadori was making as if to dart out of the game center in pursuit of Gojo. In a rush, Fushiguro gulped down his soda, threw away the can, and followed.
“Think about it,” Itadori said. “Gojo Sensei is probably off today, right? And I don’t know what he does on his days off or in his free time!”
“So?”
“So we follow him!”
“You say that like it makes sense,” said Fushiguro.
“Well, I’m curious! I know next to nothing about Gojo Sensei. Of course, if you don’t want to, you can wait here alone.”
“Ah …”
Fushiguro and Itadori ended up tailing Gojo.
There was no doubt Gojo was a reliable teacher and a respectable sorcerer. To the students, however, he was also a man of many mysteries due to his nonchalance, busy demeanor, unpredictability, career, way of thinking, and scale of activity. He didn’t seem like the kind to cheerily stroll about town on his days off.
In other words, Fushiguro gave in to his curiosity too.
Also, fighting Itadori in that dumb game may have left him mentally exhausted. In any case, they lost sight of Gojo and started looking for him again.
They found him with little difficulty.
“Fushiguro, there’s Gojo.”
“Yes, I see.”
When they spotted Gojo this time, he was eating a crepe as he walked. Judging by the paper wrapping, the crepe was from a well-known shop facing a main street. It was a sizable creation, with whipped cream, tiramisu, macarons, and even chocolate drizzle.
Gojo was a six-foot-two adult munching on what looked like a child’s dream confection.
“I’m impressed, Fushiguro,” Itadori said. “I wouldn’t even know how to order that!”
“Who would want to?”
“Maybe it’s some kind of jujutsu training?”
“How nice it would be if we could power up that way!”
The two kept their distance as they followed the guy gobbling a crepe. Even on the strange streets of Akihabara, they must have stood out. Before long, Gojo finished his crepe and stopped in front of a sorely rundown shop.
Itadori read the sign above the shop door. “Vacuum tube specialty shop …”
Gojo pondered for a moment, then stepped into the cluttered establishment.
“He has some unusual interests,” Fushiguro said, looking perplexed.
Itadori cocked his head. “I’ve heard of vacuum tubes, but what are they?”
“A piece of electronics from old radios and audio equipment.”
“Is Gojo Sensei an audiophile?”
“No,” Fushiguro said. “He seems more like the kind of guy who listens to music on YouTube.”
“Yeah, I bet you’re right!”
As Itadori and Fushiguro were talking, Gojo came out of the shop holding a paper bag. Apparently, he had purchased something.
“Uh-oh. We’re losing him.”
With Fushiguro in tow, Itadori turned down an alley, following Gojo. They were slow enough to respond that they couldn’t see Gojo at that point, but within seconds they spied a tall figure in black amidst the crowd.
“There he is, Fushiguro. Gojo Sensei is hard to miss. He’s huge!”
“Yes, over six feet.”
“He’d rule on the basketball court.”
“Although I can’t imagine him playing basketball,” Fushiguro said.
“Me neither!”
Having reached agreement on this point, the two of them continued their pursuit. Following someone at a distance through the convoluted streets of Akihabara was arduous work. Gojo was tall, so his stride was long and he walked fast. If Itadori and Fushiguro had stepped out of the crowd on the sidewalk, they would immediately have lost track of him.
Gojo’s next stop was a used music shop, where he perused vinyl records in paper jackets.
“Despite what you said, Fushiguro, Gojo Sensei may actually be a music geek,” Itadori said.
“No, I doubt that.”
“But he’s looking at records. Bach, no less!”
“Does that look like a guy who’d be interested in classical music?” asked Fushiguro.
“No, more like alternative rock.”
“Exactly,” Fushiguro said. “So this is definitely weird.”
After crate diving for a while, Gojo bought an LP of soundtrack music from an old foreign film and left the shop.
Itadori and Fushiguro became increasingly suspicious as they continued tailing him.