"You can see this, can't you?"
Déjà vu, as the French would say. Only, it was an insectoid thing, so large it could barely fit in his palm. And this time, instead of Yuriko, it was a Buddhist monk performing the litmus test for preternatural disposition. Not even minutes after Yuji's departure—at her design—he had arrived.
The man reminded her of the first concert she had ever attended. The crowd peopled by adoring fans, all either chanting her name or belting out the lyrics to some half-remembered song. Only, instead of Takada-chan, it was the most reviled creature conceivable performing a fugue on stage. And instead of chanting, they were screaming. Wailing in the stands, in place of song.
That was what this Geto Suguru felt like to her. A concert of screams.
"Ah, gosh darn it, if I'd known you were already eating, I'd have bought a different welcome package."
He crushed the bug-thing in the palm of his hand after following her line of sight. Geto nodded, as he dropped a Mighty Bucket on the table in front of her. By his side stood a girl around her age—maybe a little older with dark hair, a sailor uniform, and a crude looking doll in her arms. Yuriko's glance flittered to the girl's pocket where she saw a flash of twine rope, just barely hidden, but visible enough to be grabbed at a moment's notice.
Yuriko came to some conclusions very fast. She was immediately on edge.
"You're like me. The both of you." she said, and it wasn't a question.
"Wow. She's like, super, super sensitive," said the other girl squinting her eyes at her.
The man chuckled. "What did I tell you, Mimiko?" Then he looked back to Yuriko. "See, the trick we're using right now would make it extremely hard for other sorcerers to detect our presence." Geto's eyes focused on her own, before they seemed to pan to the rest of her face and then her hair. "Can you see it?"
"See what? You've already killed that bug." Sorcerers? Welcome package? She mentally assigned the designation of 'cult' to whatever this organisation was. The Yukata and earrings only cemented the impression for her.
"No," he said. "Not that. You and I. Mimiko. The force that connects us all. The world itself, Suzushina Yuriko. Can you see it?"
"I'm actually an atheist."
"Never mind. You just... remind me of someone. In more ways than one."
Yuriko latched onto his tone as a data point. Wistful. Regretful. The gentle lilt of relief in his voice.
Yuriko had already decided that she didn't like this man. To be fair, she'd spent a large portion of her life deciding this about everyone. But something about this Geto Suguru tickled her hostility. From the moment she'd detected him, circling the street while Itadori had been eating. There was something familiar about it...
"May we have a seat? I'd like to have a word with you."
Yuriko snapped out from her musings. She'd been careful to mask her irritation; had tried to wear her face like a blank mask. Anything more amiable would her looked awkward on her.
"Sure, uhm, knock yourself out." Save me the trouble. "Yourselves, sorry," she said making eye contact with the other girl in the room. "Itadori would have probably been a better host."
"It's fine," said Geto. "We weren't here for him either way."
She took a seat on the opposite side of the table as Mimiko sat next to Geto, tugging his sleeve. Disgust. Another data point.
It was then, now eye level with it, that Yuriko noticed the meal. More specifically, the portion provided. It was a Mighty Bucket for One. Just her. Not even a chicken-wing's worth of good will was extended to the actual owner of the home.
This time Yuriko couldn't hide her frown. Then, because she couldn't figure out just why that bothered her so much, the frown creased her eyebrows until it became a scowl. Her power spilled out of her, as the barrier asserted itself.
"Woah, scary!" said Geto, but if 'scared' was a country on earth, the man was a Martian. He couldn't physically be further from fear. Mimiko just continued to tug his sleeve. There was a little warning in her eyes as he pointedly ignored her. "You won't need to defend yourself; we're not like them."
Confusion won over her irritation. "Them? Who?"
"The faction of the representative you encountered last night. I imagine he tried to strongarm you into joining them. They used the same tactic on me, too, and I was a lot less, uhm. Hm. Mimiko, what was the word?"
"Prickly?"
Geto coughed. "Sorry—more naïve. I was far easier to sway to their cause than you. See, I had certain values when I was younger that made me—"
"Again, who??"
It probably would have been better to just let him volunteer more information. If he wanted to put himself at a disadvantage, he was welcome to, but she only had an hour of certainty that he would struggle to harm her right now. Minutes, if she had to actually fight back. Cooking, and repairing the central heating, had given her enough fine control to extend that duration by a full millisecond! Joy...
"Did—did you not meet... A blond man. Big man. Bigger ego?"
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"He's like you and I, but he's got some outdated and harmful opinions."
"Didn't meet any misogynists last night, no."
"Huh," said Geto. His hand reached into his sleeves, and Yuriko gripped the table, hard. Whatever it was, she was ready... But instead of a weapon, the man produced a cell phone. After tapping away at it for a few seconds, he sighed and returned it to wherever the hell it found purchase in his outfit. "Sorry about that, I was informed that he'd reached out to you. I guess it falls on me to explain, then."
"Manami's gonna kill you~" and though the other girl spoke in a sing-songy voice, her fingers had been plucking at the twine since Yuriko grabbed the table.
"Nah, I'd live," he shrugged. "Anyway... Sorcerers. That's what we call ourselves. You, me, and my daughter here. There aren't many of us, but we're not the only ones. We're different from ordinary people."
There was a way he said that word, a contempt to it that was more instinctive than intentional. Yuriko was listening.
"We're better."
She was listening intently.
"And for that reason," he continued. "Those of them who know who we are—know what we are— have never been able leave us be. They are jealous. They despise us. And yet, they need us. Because they can't defend themselves from them without us." The implication was clear, Yuriko thought of the creatures, as she heard his teeth grinding. "Some of us have already been indentured into their service by a system that recognises everyone outside it as nothing more than a potential threat. They find us. They assimilate. And when we don't fit into their neat little boxes, they wear us down or destroy us. I imagine you have some experience with that already."
He flashed a point look at her arms. Yuriko rolled up her sleeves reflexively and glared at him.
"I don't appreciate the insinuation," she warned.
"We met your father, the other day," her breath hitched, and he took note of that, but continued to speak. "Now, I don't consider myself a violent man...but I wanted to hurt him after we were done talking. I thought maybe —and genetics do play into who we are— that he was one of us—"
"He's just a bastard."
"Agreed. Do you know if your mother was one? A sorcerer, I mean. You would have felt it."
Yuriko broke into an uneven chuckle. Least of all because he had asked if her mother, the theoretical physicist had been a damn magician. No, she was laughing because this was emotional manipulation. Plain and simple. It was a lot more obvious than whatever Itadori Yuji had been doing—his intentions were still unknown to her, but this was shaping up to be something far more obvious.
"No, my mother did not pull fucking bunny rabbits out of hats."
The other girl, Mimiko shot her a baffled look before she clarified.
"I didn't feel anything from her from the day I started breathing, till the day she stopped."
"That must have been hard," they said in tandem.
Don't act like you care. But she smiled anyway. A recruitment pitch veiled as an offer to help. They came in showing off their ability to control that weird power. Carrot. Now she was waiting for the stick. It was nice, almost, to be having a dishonest conversation.
"It was."
They let the silence dwell for however long they thought was appropriate, was compassionate, before speaking again.
"We can train you," there they go. "Provide you with food, shelter. Companionship. It's a shame it's taken this long, but this is probably the first time you've met people like us. We can protect you from the curses," like she needed protection. Information though, was much appreciated. Curses. She filed that for later.
"What can you give me that this other 'faction' can't?"
"Peace," he said. "We won't ever force you to fight for anyone's sake but your own."
Hm. "But shouldn't I? Isn't it just, I don't know, the right thing to do to protect others?"
She fought very hard to keep herself from laughing again. She didn't believe in such drivel. While she had admired Kamijou Touma, she was well aware that she could never be him. Suzushina Yuriko wasn't a hero. This was a test.
It was then that whatever Geto Suguru had doing to evade her senses came undone. The screams got louder. The creature on-stage became a duo act, then a band. Then an orchestra. His presence became heavier. Suffocating. And that was when it clicked for her.
The brief presence that Hanako had been part of. It was him. Somehow it had been him.
"Fuck. That." He scowled. "You don't owe those mon—"
"Suguru," said Mimiko tugging at his sleeve with more force than she had before.
Yuriko battled her realisation. Did her very best to imitate Itadori's disarming expression. Anything to keep the duper's delight from manifesting on her face. If they'd caught her in a weaker moment, she might have been flashing a shit-eating grin instead. Because damn, did the situation become a whole lot less complicated for her. Ein Sof be praised for liars, the duplicitous and the mask-wearers. This was a lot easier than dealing with her host.
"Let me tell you a story about two little girls, and the village that took their parents away."
***
"Thank you for your time, Miss Suzushina." Then he tried to place his hand on her shoulder. A rather forward gesture that her barrier reflected like a cat swatting away an errant pat. It only made Geto smile as he continued to speak. "I hope whatever choice you make is one you can be happy with. Oh, and just so you know, come Sunday next week, no one will be able to force you to do anything."
"Yeah, it shouldn't even matter after Shinj—"
"Mimiko."
"Right."
Geto Suguru was now walking into the driveway where an unmarked car was waiting for him. The girl her age, who she now knew why he called her daughter, hung back just a hair and turned to speak to her.
"Oi. Newbie," she said, addressing Yuriko for the first time on her own initiative. "School's ending, so just in case you were planning to... try not to leave Sendai. I know you're strong, but it's getting super dangerous out there."
***
Meanwhile...at a general store.
Itadori Yuji was feeling stressed—beyond belief. Stressed because he was Itadori Yuji, and Itadori Yuji didn't have the slightest clue about women's hygiene. He hadn't anticipated having such a blind spot when he said he could "handle anything."
So that's how he found himself at a konbini, staring at products he'd be embarrassed to even look at in any other circumstance. He slapped himself on both cheeks. I can do this.
"What...are you doing?"
"Huh?" said Yuji, as he looked at the speaker.
A blonde girl wearing a gyaru-style sailor uniform, which was odd, since it was Saturday. She held a phone which was chirping with notifications.
"Oh! Uh, they're not for me!" He said, drawing more than a few irritated glances. "A friend of mine needed a refill, but uhm, I've never bought these before, so..."
The girl blinked and continued to stare at him like he'd grown a second pair of arms. Then the moment passed.
"The super saver," she pointed. "That's the pack I use."
"Thanks!"
Yuji ran to the counter, made his purchase, then fled the store, making sure he waved behind him as he went. All the while feeling the girl's eyes on the back of his head.