The problem was compatibility. Kugisaki was a talker who tended to let her words spill out. She found it hard to deal with Inumaki, who only responded with rice-ball ingredients.
She didn’t particularly want to be brusque with close acquaintances, but the straightforward way relatives and close acquaintances speak to each other affirms the kind of trust that doesn’t require formalities. She had difficulty with Inumaki’s type of communication, because she could never understand what he was getting at.
That didn’t mean that she disliked him. And she didn’t want to be rough with him. As a result, she was taking extra care with her words, and that irritated her. Words were an expression of the soul, so she didn’t want them to be distorted. She found this whole balancing act to be uncomfortable. Excruciating, in fact.
“Whatever,” she said. “But the next time someone annoying talks to you, just ignore it. Now I’ve got shopping to do. See ya.”
“Mustard leaf,” her senpai replied.
“Yeah, yeah. ‘Mustard leaf’ to you too!”
Kugisaki had no idea what that meant, but Inumaki had said it as they parted, so it seemed natural to say it back. As she took a step away, Inumaki grabbed her shoulder and stopped her.
“Uh … whaddaya need?” she asked.
“Fish flakes.”
“Sorry, that doesn’t tell me much.”
Inumaki waved his hands and shook his head. Kugisaki got the sense that he didn’t want her to keep shopping, but she couldn’t figure out why that would be. Maybe he just wanted her to head back before it got dark. In any case, that was all she was picking up, because “fish flakes” just didn’t provide detail.
She knew he was worried, though, so she smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t stay out too late wandering around.”
“Mustard leaf,” he said.
“Uh-huh. Don’t you stay out too late either,” Kugisaki said, casting a vexed look at him before rejoining the crowd.
“Fish flakes!”
Inumaki reached out again, but his hand banged into an old lady who was passing by. Thankfully, he didn’t hurt her, but as he was helping her across the street, Kugisaki moved out of sight.
Kugisaki passed a building and turned a corner. She strolled through the waves of people coming and going, and she was good at dodging criers as they handed out flyers and tissue packets. As she blew past, she thought, Good job, guys!
“H-h-hold on, Miss!” someone called out. “Pardon me, but have you got a sec?”
“Hunh?!” Kugisaki exclaimed.
A pushy man was shoving his way toward her. He planted himself right in front of her, blocking her from going any further. He had long blond hair and a goatee, and he was wearing a suit. He was slender and had such a dark tan that his white teeth dazzled when he smiled.
“So?” Kugisaki demanded. “Let me guess, you want me to model for you. Well, I’ve already had enough offers.”
“Aw, don’t be cold,” the man replied. “Lemme introduce myself.”
He held out a business card, and Kugisaki took it with her right hand, shopping bags dangling from her wrist. The cultural conditioning to accept a business card when someone offers it is strong.
“Just like it says there, I’m Kaya Tsurube from H Productions, a fashion-model agency.”
“H Productions … It really is a modeling agency?”
Kugisaki peered at the business card, then at the man named Tsurube, then at the card once more.
“Huh?” she said. “Seriously? You’re a scout?”
“Sure, if you wanna call it that. Sorry to be so pushy, but the modeling world is cutthroat when it comes to recruiting. I gotta bother any diamond in the rough that I spot shining brighter than everyone else. The way you do!”
H Production … Modeling … Diamond in the rough …
As if those dreamlike words weren’t enough, Tsurube piled on more. “My agency’s new motto for the next generation is ‘cute and powerful,’ and you fit that description perfectly!”
“Well … yeah!” Kugisaki responded. “You’ve got a good eye!”
“So if you don’t mind, I wanna talk for a minute,” Tsurube continued. “You really are a diamond in the rough. You must be busy, but one conversation could change your future, so I think it’s worth your time. I have a feeling you could be the next Jennifer Lawrence!”
“Really?” Kugisaki was intrigued. “In that case, I’ll at least listen.”
“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t pass up this opportunity!”
He really lays it on thick, Kugisaki thought. It felt good, however, to be complimented by an industry professional. She’d imagined just this scenario many times as she walked around the city. Maybe this was really happening!
“But you’re carrying stuff, so we shouldn’t talk in the street like this,” Tsurube said. “Come with me somewhere nice and quiet where we can talk.”
Tsurube gave Kugisaki a nudge and she began walking, somewhat dreamily.
“An H Pro model …” She liked the sound of that. Practically speaking, it wouldn’t be possible to be both a sorcerer and a model, but it would be a shame to turn down this opportunity without enjoying it a little first. At the very least, it would make a good story. Although it wasn’t like her, she found herself thinking, Yeah, I believe this guy!
Shaking off these strange thoughts, Kugisaki walked down an alley Tsurube had steered her toward. In that moment, she had no reason to suspect that she wasn’t walking of her own volition.
Kugisaki came to herself, but only partially, over ten minutes later. What called her back were the bonds cinching her hands behind her back. That was when she finally realized how weird the whole sequence of events had been.
She was sitting in a room that didn’t look at all like it belonged to an entertainment agency, containing just one simple desk and a bookshelf, other than the chair she was tied to. Seals with occult symbols covered every inch of the walls and even the floor. At a glance, she knew that someone involved with jujutsu had prepared this space.
“What’s the big idea, you slimeball?!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Tsurube replied. “Go easy on the insults, yeah?”
He was sitting behind a desk cutting a cigar with a knife. He looked at Kugisaki, then flicked his gaze behind her and said, “I told you to be gentle, Koizumi! You were too rough. It jolted her back to herself!”
“S-sorry, Tsurube!” said the man—Koizumi, apparently—who was standing behind her. “But she had a hammer! It scared me!”
Koizumi was a wall of muscle. He looked larger than Todo. His professional wrestler’s build didn’t at all match his timid demeanor.
“Well, the rope is just a safety measure, and I hafta say I’m surprised at how easily she woke up anyway,” Tsurube said. “Kugisaki—that’s your name, right? You must have a strong sense of self. I’m surprised.”
“Hunh?” Kugisaki responded.
The veins in her temples bulged as she realized how not good her situation was. They had slung her over the back of the chair, arms draped over the backrest. And from the way her sleeves felt, they had probably taken her hammer, nails, and doll.
“How do you know my name?” she demanded.
“You told me yourself, but I doubt you’d remember,” Tsurube answered. He lowered his head, looking down at her across the desk. The glare from the setting sun was shining through the window and making his expression hard to see, but it looked like he was smirking. “Take it easy, Kugisaki. We don’t plan on hurtin’ ya. We just wanna talk.”
“Hunh? Why would I believe—”
“Just believe me, yeah?”
Kugisaki wanted to shout at him then, but her anger disappeared as soon as it formed. It felt so easy to just believe what he said, as Tsurube had suggested, and part of her longed to take it easy. The rational part of her realized how weird this was, but she found that she couldn’t doubt him, no matter how much she wanted to put up her mental defenses. She had fallen into a state that was incomprehensible even to herself.
Still, she could summon at least a measure of fighting spirit.
“Stop smirking,” she said.
Kugisaki realized they hadn’t tied her legs, so she shot to her feet. The rope tying her to the chair tightened painfully. She twisted her body and swung the legs of the chair at Tsurube.
“N-not gonna happen,” Koizumi said.
She had made solid contact, but the only result was that the chair broke. The big man had stepped between her and Tsurube. She had swung with all her might, but he showed no sign of having suffered the slightest injury.
“Tch,” Kugisaki huffed.
Kugisaki was much smaller than Koizumi, so she was the one who had ended up on the floor. She immediately tried to stand up, but the chair interfered and she remained on her side, floundering.
“Don’t bother, Kugisaki. When it comes to sheer brute force, Koizumi is first-rate. He’s a total doofus about complicated cursed techniques, but his physical strength plus a cursed technique for reinforcing skin with cursed energy turn him into the ultimate shield.”
“Then I’ll bust your head first,” Kugisaki threatened.
“I’m so scared,” Tsurube replied. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
Those words alone were enough to wither Kugisaki’s desire to resist. Although her eyes still simmered with spite, she could no longer entertain thoughts of defeating her captors.
Chuckling, Tsurube waved his finger and said, “Listen. My cursed technique is cursed speech.”
“Cursed speech?” Kugisaki repeated.