Miguel stared at the phone for a beat longer than necessary.
Oden noticed.
That alone told him the caller mattered.
Miguel finally answered and lifted the phone to his ear.
"…Suguru."
On the other end, Geto's voice came smooth and amused.
"Miguel. You took your time."
Miguel snorted softly and started walking away from the clearing, one hand in his pocket, the other still holding the phone.
"You sound annoyingly healthy."
"And you sound exactly the same."
"That's because I am exactly the same."
Oden followed at a distance, the wrapped katana resting against his shoulder, saying nothing. Miguel had that tone now, the one he used when speaking to someone he actually respected.
It was rare enough to be unsettling.
Miguel stepped over a low stone at the edge of the path and exhaled through his nose.
"How long has it been?" he asked.
"Too long," Geto replied. "Though in our line of work, I suppose surviving long enough to say that is already fortunate."
Miguel barked a small laugh.
"You always did know how to make catching up sound ominous."
"And you always did know how to avoid proper responsibilities."
"That's called wisdom."
Geto chuckled quietly.
For a brief stretch, the conversation softened.
They spoke of time, distance, old annoyances, and the absurdity of how quickly years disappeared when one was too busy surviving to count them properly. There was history in the pauses between their words, old battles, old roads, old choices that no longer needed explaining.
Then Geto's tone changed subtly.
"Miguel," he said, "the plan is in place."
Miguel's expression flattened.
"I see."
"It's time."
The wind moved through the trees beside the path. Oden watched Miguel's shoulders settle with decision.
Geto continued.
"Come to Tokyo."
Miguel was quiet for a second.
Then—
"…Alright," he said. "I'll come."
"Good."
Miguel glanced toward Oden.
"He won't be a problem."
There was a pause on the line.
Then Geto asked, "He?"
Miguel smiled faintly.
"I picked something up while I was away."
That got a soft laugh out of Geto.
"You say that like you found a souvenir."
"In a way, I did."
"Bring him too."
Miguel raised a brow. "That casual?"
"If you're speaking about him like this, I'd rather see for myself."
Miguel's smile sharpened.
"You'll regret inviting curiosity into your life."
"Curiosity has always been my flaw."
Miguel stopped walking.
"Fine," he said. "We'll be there."
The call ended.
For a moment, only the distant village sounds filled the silence.
Then Oden spoke.
"…Who was that?"
Miguel slid the phone back into his pocket.
"A friend."
Oden stared.
"That answer explains nothing."
Miguel looked at him.
"It explains enough. Pack your things."
Oden blinked once.
"…Why?"
Miguel smirked.
"Because we're going to Tokyo."
---
Tokyo at night was impossible to ignore.
Even before they fully entered the city, Oden could feel its scale pressing in on him. Not like Kenya's open skies and breathing earth, but in layers. Towers of glass. Floods of neon. Endless streets wound together by movement and light. The city looked less built than assembled from a thousand restless ideas.
He walked beside Miguel in silence.
His hood was up.
The outfit fit close to his body: dark fabric, practical, clean-lined, with the hood casting his features deeper into shadow. It gave him a slightly severe silhouette, sharpened further by the white blindfold tied securely over his eyes. Around his neck rested a small snake, its body looped lazily against his hood like an ornament.
It was not an ornament.
Through the snake's senses, Oden saw everything.
The blindfold hid his strange eyes and explained his lack of direct gaze. The snake gave him vision anyway. Shared sight sliding into his mind in a way that had long since stopped feeling unnatural.
And so he looked at Tokyo through another creature's eyes.
Light reflected in wet streets.
Crowds shifting in rivers.
A vending machine glowing alone in an alley.
The brief flare of headlights.
The electric pulse of signs above shopfronts.
For all its noise, for all its density, the city had a kind of beauty to it. Cold in places, overwhelming in others, but beautiful all the same.
Oden tilted his head slightly, taking it in.
"…It's pretty," he said.
Miguel glanced sideways at him.
"That's not the word most people use."
"It's one I would use."
"I guess."
They kept walking.
The deeper they went, the more Oden felt the city's strange duality. One part of it glittered. Another part hid itself. For every bright avenue there was a quieter street behind it, and behind that, something even more concealed.
Eventually, Miguel turned down a calmer road and led him to a large building whose presence felt less commercial than ceremonial.
Oden stopped.
The structure carried itself with wealth and secrecy both.
Miguel looked up at it once and said, "We're here."
"The headquarters?"
"Star Religious Group," Miguel replied.
Oden said nothing, but his snake lifted its head slightly, tasting the air.
Then the doors opened.
A man stepped out to greet them.
Dark robes. Calm posture. Long hair tied back neatly. A smile that looked warm at first glance and thoughtful at second.
Suguru Geto.
He spread one hand lightly.
"Miguel," he said. "Welcome back."
Miguel rolled one shoulder. "You make it sound like I've returned from war."
Geto smiled. "Have you not?"
The two men closed the distance and greeted each other with the easy familiarity of people whose respect had already been tested elsewhere.
Then Geto's gaze shifted.
To Oden.
His expression changed, only slightly, but enough.
Interest.
"And this," Geto said, "must be what you picked up."
Miguel snorted.
"I told you not to phrase it like that."
Geto ignored him and looked Oden over with open curiosity.
"Who is he?"
Miguel rested a hand on Oden's shoulder.
"Oden," he said. "I found him in Kenya years ago."
Geto's eyes moved to the blindfold.
"And why," he asked mildly, "is Oden blindfolded?"
Oden answered before Miguel could.
"My eyes hurt if I leave them open too long."
Geto blinked once.
Then a crooked smile touched his mouth.
"What is this?" he asked lightly. "Do you have the Six Eyes?"
Oden tilted his head under the hood.
"The what?"
That got a real reaction.
Geto's smile faded into surprise.
"…You don't know what the Six Eyes are?"
Oden's face remained unreadable beneath the blindfold.
"No."
For a brief second, Geto simply stared at him.
Then he looked at Miguel.
Miguel only shrugged.
"Don't look at me."
Geto exhaled softly through his nose, half amused, half incredulous.
"Well," he said at last, "that alone makes this more interesting than I expected."
He stepped aside and opened a hand toward the interior.
"Come in," he said. "Both of you."
His smile returned.
"You should meet the others."
And with that, Oden crossed the threshold into the headquarters of the Star Religious Group.