It was the day of the Idol Fest that Ikuma had mentioned, and the concert grounds were brimming with an unusual enthusiasm. Stalls offering pop star merchandise lined the open plaza, and throngs of spectators were crammed together in front of the outdoor stage.
“Ohhh, I can’t see a thing!” Chie had come all this way hoping to get a look at some idols, but a tall, thick wall of men blocked her view, and given her diminutive stature she had no hope of seeing over it. Taking photos from this vantage would be even more of a problem.
“Hmmm …” Chie scanned the grounds. “Aha!” she said upon spotting a large tree far off to one side. She circled the tree in order to scope it out first, then got up on one of the roots and proceeded to climb up using footholds in the bark. Soon she reached a large branch and sat herself down on it, finally able to peek through her camera.
By zooming in, she was able to get a look at the showily dressed idol singers dancing about. There was a surprising assortment of them, some clad in adorable pastel-colored outfits, others scurrying about like they were in some comedy routine, and everything in between. “Ah, so this is what sort of event this is,” Chie said, whimsically clicking the shutter on her camera.
While she was checking the photos she’d taken, the cheers of the crowd started to die down. It looked as though a minor idol singer, one who didn’t look like they’d be on television, was performing on center stage.
“Huh?” Chie muttered as another meek-looking girl got up on stage.
“Next up, we have college student idol singer Mitsuba!”
Chie readied her camera again. So, even girls like this do idol singing? The music began to play as the introduction finished, and the girl called Mitsuba started to sing.
“Oh wow,” Chie murmured. The girl wore a frilled skirt and a hair band with ribbons. She certainly looked the part of an idol singer, and her voice carried clear and distinct, but here and there her expression looked sad and lonely, contrary to her cheerful tune.
The time she’d been allotted was short, and before long her song came to an end. Upon finishing, she bowed her head and then hurried backstage and out of sight. Then, a sudden voice jolted Chie. “Hey, you! It’s not safe to climb up there!”
It was one of the venue’s security guards, shouting at Chie up in the tree. Chie slid back down, and then made her way back over toward the stage.
“H-hey!” called the security guard, presumably wanting Chie to stop so he could press for more of an explanation, but she disappeared into the massive crowd near the stage. She then calmly inspected the photos on her camera.
“Whoa!” It was a photo of Mitsuba, who’d just been performing. Despite her flashy title of idol singer, her expression was flat, her eyes vacant. Her lips were faintly parted as if to call out to someone, sadness about to issue forth from them.
“Now just what is the story here, I wonder?”
Slipping her way out of the Idol Fest, Chie made her way to a nearby café and transferred her data to the laptop she carried in her backpack. She sipped hot cocoa topped with a dollop of fresh cream as she reviewed her photos on the larger monitor—specifically, the ones she’d taken of Mitsuba.
According to what Chie could find on the Internet, the girl was nineteen years old. She had a somber disposition and wasn’t very self-assertive, to the point where even her fans seemed perplexed as to why she’d become an idol singer.
Well, that’s certainly begging for a follow-up, Chie thought to herself as she went on to check the other photographs she’d taken that day.
The bell at the café entrance jangled as a new customer came in, and on some curious instinct, Chie looked up.
“Aha.” Her hunch had been right: slipping in through the door was none other than the Ghoul gourmet, Shu Tsukiyama.
He took notice of Chie soon enough himself. “Oddio!” he cried out, his right hand extended, his left set against his forehead as he arched his body slightly. At once, all eyes were upon him. Could he just not stand not being the center of attention? The fact that he could lead such an active life without being caught by the CCG made Chie think that, while the CCG might be made up of professionals, they certainly weren’t perfect.
“Oh, Hori! Have you been lying in ambush for me?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
Tsukiyama sat down across from Chie as if it were a matter of course. “Then what have you been doing?” he asked.
“Organizing photos.”
“Ha ha! Ever the shutterbug! C’mon, show me what you’ve got, my little insect!” Tsukiyama said, gracefully extending his hand, palm up.
Chie plopped the laptop into his outstretched hand, which promptly smacked down onto the table, Tsukiyama having seemingly underestimated how heavy it would be. “God, and you’re still such a tomboy, too,” he said, his expression unflinching, the computer still atop his palm, clicking away at the keys with his free hand like it was a piano. “You’ve been taking pictures of some pretty fancy stuff, haven’t you?” He seemed surprised that Chie would have taken pictures of trendy pop singers. His eyes were fixed on the screen as his fingers methodically tabbed from one photo to the next.
When he got to one photo, however, his fingers stopped. “Hmm …”
It was a photo of Mitsuba.
“White lines down to her throat like a Greek sculpture, her eyes like a cocktail of sadness … Well now, isn’t she quite a marvelous subject to be photographed!”
“They said her name’s Mitsuba,” Chie said, eyeing the photo as she took the laptop back from Tsukiyama. “I feel like I could take a much better picture of her than this!”
Tsukiyama let out a nasal hum, sipping at the coffee one of the employees brought him. “By the way, Hori, I’ve got a real obsession right now.”
“It’s Kaneki, isn’t it?”
Ken Kaneki, a Ghoul from the 20th Ward who apparently worked part time at the café Anteiku. Tsukiyama had followed him around previously with the hopes of eating him, but had since come to work together with him. His other companions weren’t quite as trusting, and seemed to exclude him, but Tsukiyama wasn’t the sort to be down about that.
“Ah, so the tale that Kaneki and I weave has indeed reached your ears!” Tsukiyama said, raising his right hand high. “Ever since we began working together, every day is spicier and spicier! You can tell, can’t you? That I have this glow I never possessed before!”
“I’m sure Kaneki’s wallet is happy with that, at any rate.”
“Non. Riches are just another form of power. Which is a price worth paying for Kaneki’s time! It’s the ample time we do spend together that so deepens our trusting relationship.”
“You sound like some old man talking about his favorite hostess,” Chie said. Was he of a mind to one day betray that trust with a sword, only to lick at blood that dripped down from the blade? No, Chie thought blithely. She didn’t think anyone would trust him in his whole life.
“Oh, speaking of which,” Chie said, suddenly remembering something, “what are you doing for ‘food’ nowadays?” Apparently, Kaneki was scouring the wards in search of something. If that was the case, then Tsukiyama was probably going along with him, and considering that Tsukiyama’s finicky, particular tastes currently had him craving Kaneki above anything else, Chie had to wonder what he’d been eating instead.
“I’m getting by,” Tsukiyama replied quickly enough. “After having set eyes on Kaneki, everything else looks like such meager fare—that is how exquisite Kaneki is!”
Tsukiyama looked like he was ready to launch into another spiel about Kaneki when Chie blurted out, “Wait, what? The self-styled ‘gourmet’ has been getting by on junk food?” Her eyes were wide with astonishment.
Tsukiyama stared back at her, the look on his face making it look as if he’d just been struck by lightning. “I do beg your pardon?”
“I know you’ve had your sights set on Kaneki, and you’ve also never been one to skimp when it comes to meals. I guess people really do change.” Well, Tsukiyama wasn’t necessarily a “person,” per se.
Chie put her computer back into her backpack and stood up. She tried to leave Tsukiyama with the check, but he held out his right arm to block her path. “Hold it right there!” His brow was furrowed, and he had an almost exaggerated look of pain on his face as he forced out his words. “Oh, Hori! Your words pierce my delicate heart, sweet and smooth, like a knife through cheesecake!”
“But you’ve never even eaten a cheesecake.”
Ignoring Chie’s words, Tsukiyama continued repentantly. “Oh, Hori, it’s just like you said. I, Shu Tsukiyama, born to seek out and consume only the finest cuisine, have had to stoop so low as to consume common food. And once I know what Kaneki tastes like, nothing else will ever be worth tasting again! However”—he suddenly thrust a finger at Chie—“I have decided that, though she might not meet the standards of my discerning palate, I must have this delicious, despairing diva you’ve shown me!”
“Huh?” That finally got a reaction out of Chie. Here was Tsukiyama, talking about how he wanted to eat Mitsuba. “No way. I need to take pictures of her.”
“Seeing that picture finally stirred my appetite after so long! Not as much as Kaneki, of course, but there’s something in her that makes her such an enticing cocktail. I am sorry, but she will be mine.”
Tsukiyama’s proud laugh pushed Chie over the edge, and without a word she took what was left of the syrupy cocoa and dumped it over his head as hard as she could before marching out of the café.
“H-Hori! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair right?!”
Now Tsukiyama would probably go home and take a shower. Chie adjusted the backpack bouncing against her back, got out her smartphone, and began a web search on Mitsuba. She needed to make sure she found her before Tsukiyama did.