Sharp Dressed Man

After exhaling a long puff of smoke, Eiji stepped into the familiar dimness of the bar.

Instead of the usual gruff greeting from behind the counter, he was met with a much softer, more feminine tone.

“Welcom—Oh! Eiji-niisan?” The young lady behind the wood paused, her eyes widening as she processed the guest.

“...Yo, Yume.” Eiji greeted her casually. She usually only worked weekends, but seeing her on a weekday wasn't unheard of.

“Heh. Welcome, Eiji-niisan.” Overcoming her surprise, Yume’s lips curled into a gentle, practiced smile as she bowed.

Her mannerisms were always her most distinct trait—prim, proper, and refined. With her straight posture, slim waist, and mature features, no one would ever guess she was a year younger than Eiji. She wore her silvery-blonde hair in a high, tight ponytail, accentuating a face that had, over the last six years, grown into something undeniably beautiful.

“The usual?” Yume asked, her smile lingering as Eiji took his stool with a nod.

“Where’s Hayato?”

“Onii-chan had some errands to run. We’re actually closing early tonight.”

“And Shig?”

Yume’s smile turned slightly wry. “He was supposed to be back from feeding the pigeons an hour ago...”

“Figures.” Eiji shared the sentiment with a weary sigh.

Yume giggled, dismissing the subject as she served him his usual cold juice.

“How have you been, Eiji-niisan? It feels like it’s been forever since we saw each other.” A faint scarlet tint touched her cheeks as she briefly averted her eyes.

She was exaggerating, of course. It hadn't even been a month. But a lot had changed since his last visit—he’d met Naomi, lost his job, and been dragged into a club. To Eiji, it felt like a lifetime ago, too.

“It’s been... eventful,” Eiji said, snuffing his cigarette in the ashtray. “I just joined a club.”

“A club? You mean like a fighting club?” Yume tilted her head, looking equal parts puzzled and worried.

“No. A school club.”

“Oh. A school club...” She sighed with relief, then froze. “Wait... Eh? A school club?! You, Eiji-niisan?!”

“What’s so weird about it?” Eiji muttered, feeling a prickle of annoyance.

“To be honest? Everything.” She chuckled, quickly regaining her composure. “Apologies. What kind of club is it?”

Eiji paused. Telling a refined girl like Yume he was in the "Occult Club" felt like a critical hit to his pride.

“It’s... an Occult Club.”

“Occult? What do you even do there?”

“...”

Direct hit.

Eiji took a slow sip of his juice, staring anywhere but at her. “Occult... things.”

“Oh, I see!” Yume nodded vigorously, as if that vague answer made total sense. “I’ve heard about those things! It must be fun!”

“Yeah?” Eiji was genuinely taken aback.

“I wish my school wasn't so strict,” she muttered, her shoulders drooping. “We don't have any 'fun' clubs.”

Attending a prestigious all-girls academy clearly had its drawbacks.

“Aren't you in any of them?”

“No. That’s why I take dance classes after school.”

Eiji’s mind perked up. Dance classes.

“What’s the name of your dance school?”

Yume blinked, surprised by his sudden interest. “It’s called Move, Niisan.”

“Hah.” Eiji leaned forward, his sudden intensity making Yume tense up.

“Eiji-Nii-san...?”

“You don't happen to know a senior there named Takenaka, do you?”

“You mean Honoka-senpai? Of course I do.” Yume’s reply was instinctive. “Is she... a friend of yours?”

“No.” Eiji shook his head. “I just want to know more about her.”

Yume’s eyes narrowed into a slight, suspicious glare.

“Oi, it’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn't.” Despite her prim attitude, she had a glare that could rival a seasoned delinquent’s when she wanted to.

“Yume...”

“Fine, I’ll tell you.” She collapsed under Eiji’s steady gaze, shaking off her mean streak. “Honoka-senpai is one of the most talented dancers we have. She even works as an extra instructor for the younger members. She’s kind and naturally gifted, but lately... she’s been missing practice a lot.”

Yume lowered her voice, her disappointment visible. “And when she does show up, her movements are off. She’s slipped and fallen a few times, like she’s suddenly become clumsy. It’s almost like... she isn't even herself anymore.”

“I see.” Eiji nodded, falling into thought.

“That’s all I really know. If you need more details—like what kind of guys she likes—I could probably guess. B-But you’ll have to c-come to lunch with me—”

“No, that’s plenty. I think I’ve got a lead.”

“E-eh? Are you sure?” Yume’s voice dropped, the anticipation vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“I am. Thanks, Yume.”

Eiji offered her a rare, genuine grin—the kind very few people ever got to see.

“I-It’s nothing, really...” Yume looked away, twisting a strand of her blonde hair around her finger as if her life depended on it.

Having snagged the info he didn't even know he was looking for, Eiji prepared to bail. His glass was bone-dry, and Luna was likely tearing the apartment apart by now.

But just as he stood to leave, the door chimed. A tall man in a sharp black suit stepped into the dim light of the bar.

“Oh, welcome!” Yume snapped to attention like a coiled spring, offering a polite bow.

The man didn't say a word. He surveyed the room with a cold, clinical gaze. Since Eiji was the only soul in the place, he had plenty of options, yet he walked straight to the counter and claimed a stool only one seat away from Eiji.

“Eh?” Yume whispered, her confusion evident.

Eiji turned, his eyes narrowing. The guy was anything but inconspicuous. Despite the spotless suit, he was rocking a round hat and thin, dark sunglasses in a dive bar. He looked like he’d stepped out of a noir film—or a funeral.

After a long, heavy silence, the man spoke. His voice was gritty, with a strange nasal edge.

“This place used to be called Magnifica a few years back.”

“Haha...” Yume chuckled awkwardly at the non-sequitur.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Whatever you have on hand. Surprise me.”

Eiji raised a brow, turning his body fully toward the stranger. This guy had successfully sucked the air out of the room. And as Eiji stared him down, a familiar prickle started at the base of his neck.

The aura. The weight of the space around him. This wasn't a civilian.

But an exorcist.

The man shifted his gaze behind his shades, looking Eiji dead in the eye. “…What’s your surname, kid?”

Eiji raised a brow, but answered regardless.

“Kanzaki.”

“Figures.”

The word hit Eiji like a challenge. Who was this guy to act all high-and-mighty? The mysterious act was already ticking him off.

“And who the hell are you?” Eiji growled, his glare sharpening. “Is there a problem?”

“Eiji-niisan, please—” Yume started, her voice trembling.

“Yo... I’m back, Yume-chan!”

Right as the tension reached a breaking point, Shigeru sauntered in. He had the same aloof, relaxed grin he’d probably wear if the building were collapsing.

“Oh, Eiji-kun! And a customer... Hello!” Shig greeted the two glaring men as if he were at a Sunday picnic.

Before the tension could explode, the stranger downed the ragtag mix Yume had scrambled together and stood up.

“Thank you for the drink.”

He headed for the door, nearly bowling over Shigeru on his way out.

“Woah...” Shig stumbled back, watching the suit vanish into the street.

Yume slumped, her shoulders dropping in relief. “That was... odd.”

“Yeah,” Eiji muttered.

He didn't linger. He stepped out into the evening air, his mind racing. Was that guy really just out for a drink before sunset? And what did he mean by "figures"?

Between the emerald-eyed senior and the man in the shades, Eiji’s night was suddenly looking a lot more complicated.