When they stepped out of the theater, the night air somehow felt cleaner than the movie had been.
Yuji was the first to say it.
"That was terrible."
Sasaki nodded immediately.
"Actually awful."
Iguchi adjusted his glasses and frowned as though still offended by what he had just witnessed.
"I genuinely don't understand how that got approved."
Oden stood there for a second, quiet.
Then said, with complete sincerity—
"That might be the worst thing I've ever watched."
Yuji turned to him so fast he nearly slipped.
"Right!?" he said. "Right!? It was so bad!"
Sasaki looked half-amused now.
"The trailer made it seem creepy."
"It was creepy," Yuji said. "Just not in the way they wanted."
Iguchi gave a tired sigh.
"The worm sound effects were especially unforgivable."
Oden frowned faintly.
"The acting looked painful."
Yuji pointed at him.
"Exactly. You get it."
For a brief stretch, the four of them stood there united by disappointment.
It was, strangely enough, pleasant.
Then Yuji clapped his hands together.
"Alright," he said. "That movie took something from us spiritually, so we should get food."
That got Oden's attention immediately.
Yuji grinned.
"All of us. Let's go eat."
Oden was just about to agree—
when he noticed the old man standing a short distance away.
Still.
Watching.
Waiting.
The city moved around him, but he seemed untouched by its pace, like someone who had long ago stopped hurrying for anything.
The moment Oden's attention settled on him, the man smiled faintly.
"Oden," he said.
Oden's expression did not change, but inwardly, something sharpened.
'He knows my name.'
Yuji noticed the shift too.
"...You know him?" he asked quietly.
Oden didn't answer right away.
The old man stepped forward with the casual confidence of someone who had every reason to believe he would not be interrupted.
He bowed his head just enough to count as manners.
"Naobito Zenin," he said. "I'd like to speak with you."
Oden said nothing for a second.
Yuji, meanwhile, took one small step forward and raised his fists, not fully, not aggressively, but enough to show the choice had been made.
"If there's a problem," Yuji said, "I can help."
Oden looked at him.
And then—
unexpectedly—
smiled.
Small. Faint. Brief.
But definitely real.
"It's fine," he said. "I know the old man."
Yuji's eyes narrowed slightly.
He was not convinced.
Not even a little.
But Oden's tone had made the decision for him.
Still, Yuji leaned in just enough to mutter, "You sure?"
Oden nodded once.
Outwardly calm.
Inwardly, his thoughts were much less relaxed.
'He's a sorcerer.'
That much was obvious.
And worse. Oden did not yet know how strong he was.
That made involving Yuji and the others dangerous.
They were civilians.
Mostly.
Maybe.
Actually, no, they definitely weren't normal, especially not Yuji. But Oden still had no interest in dragging outsiders into something he did not understand yet.
Yuji hesitated.
Then pulled out his phone.
"Alright," he said. "But take my number."
Oden blinked.
Yuji quickly gave it to him.
"If something feels weird, call."
Oden nodded once.
"…Thanks."
Yuji scratched the back of his head.
"Don't mention it."
With that, Yuji, Sasaki, and Iguchi finally left, though Yuji glanced back more than once on the way.
Only after they were gone did Oden fully turn toward Naobito.
"You waited outside a movie theater for me," he said. "That's strange."
Naobito smiled.
"I've done stranger things for less important people."
Oden considered that.
"…That doesn't make it better."
Naobito chuckled softly.
Then gestured with one hand.
"Come. Let's talk somewhere civilized."
---
The restaurant Naobito chose was expensive enough that Oden could feel it before they were even seated.
Everything about it was precise.
The lighting. The polished wood. The silence. The way the staff moved with that particular softness people developed when the customers were rich enough to be dangerous.
They were led into a private room.
The door slid shut.
And for a moment, it was just the two of them.
Oden sat.
Looked at the menu.
Then immediately asked, "Can I order anything I want?"
Naobito gave him a mild look.
"Yes."
That was all the permission Oden needed.
He started ordering.
And ordering.
And ordering.
The server kept writing.
Naobito, to his credit, did not interrupt. He only watched with what might have been amusement.
By the time Oden finished, the room had entered a kind of stunned silence usually reserved for natural disasters and unusually expensive decisions.
Naobito poured himself tea.
Then finally spoke.
"I'll get to the point."
Oden nodded.
"That would help."
Naobito took a slow sip.
"The Zenin clan is one of the great sorcerer families," he said. "Power, status, bloodline, influence. We have existed for generations and shaped more of the jujutsu world than most people realize."
Oden listened quietly.
Naobito continued.
"One of the clan's most prized inherited techniques is the Ten Shadows Technique."
At that, Oden's head tilted slightly.
Naobito noticed.
"I'm told," he went on, "that your own cursed technique bears certain similarities to it."
Oden did not confirm that.
He did not deny it either.
Naobito smiled faintly.
"You're young. Strong. Unaffiliated. And in possession of a technique that may very well rival one of the Zenin clan's crown jewels."
He set his cup down.
"So I'll be direct."
His eyes met Oden's.
"Join the Zenin clan."
The room settled around that sentence.
Naobito went on, voice smooth, measured, almost generous.
"I can offer you status. Wealth. A name with power behind it. Protection. Access to knowledge. The kind of life most sorcerers would cut each other apart to obtain."
He smiled.
"Fame, riches, influence. More than enough to make the answer obvious."
Oden looked at him for a few seconds.
Then asked, completely seriously—
"If I say no, do I have to pay for my own food?"
Naobito stared.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
"No," he said. "You will not be paying for your own food."
Oden nodded.
"Good."
Naobito's smile remained.
"Then I assume you understand there is no real reason to reject my offer."
Oden answered immediately.
"No."
Naobito's smile thinned.
"…No?"
"I'm rejecting it."
There was no hesitation in Oden's voice. No grand speech either. He said it the way one might decline extra napkins.
Naobito regarded him for a moment in complete silence.
Then he asked, almost lightly—
"Do you understand what refusal means?"
Oden leaned back slightly.
"Probably not in the way you want."
Naobito folded his hands.
"If you reject us," he said, "the alternative is death."
The room went still.
Even the air seemed to listen.
Oden did not flinch.
He did not look away.
He did not suddenly become dramatic.
He only answered with flat certainty.
"Then bring it on."
Naobito's eyes sharpened.
Then—
slowly—
he smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But with the clear pleasure of an old predator realizing the prey had teeth.
He rose to his feet.
"Very well," he said. "Get ready for an all-out war against the Zenin clan."
He straightened his robe.
Then, as if they had merely concluded a business meeting on mildly disappointing terms, he added:
"In the meantime…"
His gaze drifted toward the door, where Oden's absurd amount of food would soon be arriving.
"Enjoy your meal."
And with that—
Naobito Zenin turned and left the room.
The door slid shut behind him.
Oden sat there in silence for a moment.
Then looked at the menu again.
Then at the empty place where Naobito had been.
And finally muttered to himself:
"…Tokyo is annoying."
A knock came at the door.
The food had arrived.
---
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