For men, shopping was often quick and straightforward.Once you found a shop that matched your taste, it earned your trust by default.
Kuro Tsukasa turned to Mrs. Nishikata and said warmly:
"Could I trouble you to help me pick out two more sets for daily wear?"
"Absolutely~!"
Her eyes lit up at once, her voice lilting with cheerful enthusiasm.
"This indigo one is perfect for daily chores—breathable and doesn't stain easily."
"And this one's a cotton-linen blend. Just right for the current season—not too warm for now, and it won't suffocate when summer hits."
She moved fluidly through the racks, fingertips brushing over fabrics until she swiftly picked out a navy set, followed by a lighter pale-blue one, each carefully selected.
She handed them to him with practiced grace.
"Add these and you're all set. Let's ring it up."
Tsukasa gave them a once-over and silently reached for a few sets of plain undergarments from a nearby shelf, passing them to Mrs. Nishikata as well.
"Total comes to 400 mon. Gave you a little discount too~."
Her fingers danced across the abacus, dark wooden beads clicking crisply. She smiled up at him after a moment.
She liked this young man.Not only had she given him a fair discount, but she even slipped in two extra hair ties—soft in color, carefully wrapped in the bundle.
"Here you go."
Tsukasa took out a piece of silver from the pouch Terada-san had given him earlier and handed it over.
"Much obliged."
Mrs. Nishikata took it and pulled out a compact weighing kit: a small iron chisel and a brass scale.She began carefully shaving silver shavings and weighing them until she had an exact four bu's worth, returning the change and the neatly wrapped bundle in one motion.
After saying their goodbyes to Mrs. Nishikata, Tsukasa and Koyuu stepped back into the lively morning bustle.
Thanks to her guidance, they made short work of the rest of their shopping—straw sandals, seat cushions, and a handful of other small necessities at a general goods store.
Tsukasa kept his usual pace—efficient, direct. If he liked something, he bought it. No fuss.
They'd bought quite a lot, but with Koyuu—a recognizable face from the local izakaya—at his side, the store owner was more than accommodating. He even offered to have the goods delivered to the shop for free.
"Sweet treats, candied plums~! Come get your sugar fix!"
Just as they were about to head back, lighthearted shouting and the rhythmic beat of a small drum caught Tsukasa's attention.
A peddler in his early forties was strolling down the street with two bamboo baskets covered in white cloth, tapping a palm-sized drum as he walked.
"Peddler, over here please."
Tsukasa raised his voice and waved.
"Coming!"
The man quickened his steps and stopped in the shade of a tree nearby.He gently set down the baskets and lifted the cloth.
Tsukasa stepped forward. A wave of rich, sweet aroma wafted toward him.
Inside the baskets were an assortment of snacks wrapped in wax paper—golden amber candies, frosted fruit slices, and a certain violet-colored preserved plum that gleamed under the sun.
"That one's moon plum, cured in wild honey. Finest batch I've got. Care to try some?"
The peddler, quick to read his customer's gaze, wiped his fingers with a cloth and picked one out with a grin, offering it for tasting.
This wasn't something he let just anyone sample—it was too costly to give away freely.But the man in front of him was clearly no ordinary customer.
Tsukasa accepted and bit down. The fruit was plump, sweet with just the right hint of tartness, the honey's depth bringing it all together.
No artificial sharpness. Just clean, rich flavor.
"I'll take three packs. Wrap them up."
Originally, he'd intended to buy two—one for Koyuu, one for Terada-san.But after that taste, he couldn't resist keeping one for himself.
"Right away!"
"That'll be 90 mon!"
The peddler, delighted to meet such a generous customer, quickly weighed out the three portions, wrapped each in oiled paper, and tied them securely with string.
Tsukasa had already developed a decent sense of pricing.These three small bundles had cost nearly as much as a set of clothing.
Still, Koyuu said nothing—which meant the peddler was honest.The price matched the product.
Without a change in expression, he counted out the coins and took the wrapped packages.Then he turned and offered one to Koyuu.
"Koyuu-san, this one's for you."
"Eh? For me?"
Koyuu blinked, surprised.
"You helped me a lot yesterday, and you've been by my side all morning today. I didn't know how to thank you, so this is just a small gesture."
Tsukasa smiled and nodded sincerely.
Without her, he'd have wasted who knows how much time and money today.Her guidance had been generous—this gift didn't come close to repaying it.
"Thank you, Tsukasa. You didn't have to."
Seeing his sincerity, Koyuu accepted the treat without protest.
Afterward, Tsukasa walked her home, across the street from the izakaya, then picked up his pace along the dirt road back to the shop.
The sun had risen higher.
By his estimate, he still had plenty of time. Terada-san had given him the morning off, but that didn't mean he'd idle.
She'd been generous with him.And if someone treated him sincerely, he would repay that trust tenfold.
That was just the kind of person he was.
…
As he passed an open clearing between houses, the sounds of children shouting caught his attention.
"Take this!"
"Ack! Stop running!"
Four kids—ten or eleven years old—raced across the dusty lot with wooden swords in hand, shouting and laughing.Their cheeks were flushed, wooden blades clacking as they dueled.
Tsukasa paused, smiling at the sight.
He had planned to buy a bokken today—but none of the stores they visited had any.
The Soul Society was currently at peace.Violence in Rukongai usually happened only in the far-numbered districts.
Places like District 3, with its relative wealth and safety, had no demand for weapons.
No demand meant no supply.You wouldn't find swordsmiths here.
Commissioning one privately would raise too many questions.
That's why he had decided to settle for a wooden practice blade—functional for training, discreet in public.
He had even asked Koyuu earlier, but she hadn't known of any place that sold them.She didn't know any carpenters who could make one either.
A shame, really.Crafting a wooden sword was time-consuming and not exactly profitable—no surprise it wasn't a common item.
His eyes scanned the children's wooden swords.
Crude. Choppy carvings.Scaled down for their size.
But the curves of the blade, the balance of hilt and grip—it was clear someone had put thought into these.
Likely a parent or elder, carving by memory.
A toy, maybe… but made with care.
And for Tsukasa, it might be exactly what he needed.