Chapter 8: Chance Encounter
Men's shopping was always simple and direct. Once you found something suitable in a store, you developed enough trust in the proprietor's judgment to keep going back.
Suoh turned to Nishikata-san, his voice warm and polite.
"Nishikata-san, could I trouble you to pick out two more sets for daily wear?"
"Of course!"
The proprietress's face lit up immediately, her response carrying a delighted lilt.
"This navy-blue one is perfect for daily work—dirt-resistant and breathable."
She turned and navigated through the clothing displays with practiced ease, fingers brushing across various fabrics. She quickly selected one piece.
"And this one is a hemp-cotton blend. Perfect for this time of year, and it won't feel stuffy even when summer arrives."
She pulled down a second garment in lighter blue-green, holding both items out for his inspection.
"Add these and I'm set. Let's settle up."
Suoh gave them only a brief glance before grabbing several sets of plain white undergarments from a nearby counter and passing everything to Nishikata-san with a nod.
"Four hundred mon total. I'm giving you a discount."
The proprietress accepted the items and returned to the register, wrapping everything in a carrying cloth.
Her slender fingers danced across an abacus with remarkable speed, the polished wooden beads clicking crisply. After a moment, she looked up with a smile.
She genuinely liked this young man. Not only had she given him a good discount, but she'd also deliberately included two simple-colored hair ribbons in the package.
"Here."
Suoh pulled out his coin purse and extracted a chogin, passing it over.
"Thank you for your patronage."
Nishikata-san accepted the silver and retrieved a set of precise tools from a drawer—an iron chisel and a brass balance scale. She began chipping off fragments of silver, weighing them repeatedly.
Once the silver fragments reached exactly four hundred mon worth, she collected the measured pieces, then returned the remaining chogin along with the wrapped bundle. Transaction complete.
***
After saying goodbye to Nishikata-san, Suoh carried his bundle and continued the day's shopping with Kotama.
The morning market was at its liveliest now, the streets surging with crowds.
With Kotama as his capable guide, they quickly visited a general goods store where Suoh purchased straw sandals, floor cushions, and various other small necessities.
He maintained his efficient, direct style throughout—see it, buy it, no hesitation.
They'd bought quite a bit. With Kotama, the izakaya's popular waitress, present, the shopkeeper was enthusiastic and generous, immediately offering free delivery service.
"Candy, preserved fruits—sweet treats, come and see!"
Just as they finished shopping and were preparing to head back, the clear sound of a small drum and a merchant's calls caught Suoh's attention from nearby.
A peddler in his forties carried two bamboo baskets covered with white cloth suspended from a shoulder pole. He moved at an unhurried pace along the street, calling out his wares. One hand steadied the pole while the other shook a palm-sized drum.
"Peddler, over here please!"
Something stirred in Suoh's mind. He raised his hand and called out to stop the man.
"Coming!"
Hearing the call, the peddler quickened his pace. He found a spot in the shade near Suoh, set down his pole, and lifted the white cloths covering his baskets.
Suoh approached as a wave of sweet fragrance wafted toward him on the breeze.
His gaze fell on the baskets' contents—various snacks half-wrapped in oil paper.
Amber-colored candy, assorted candied fruits dusted with sugar crystals. Among them, one purple preserved fruit caught his eye particularly under the sunlight.
"These are premium moon plums, pickled in wild honey. Would you like some, customer?"
The peddler, constantly watching his customer's gaze, immediately understood. He wiped his fingers with the white cloth, smiled, and picked up a piece to offer Suoh a taste.
If the customer before him hadn't looked so refined, he wouldn't have offered a sample at all—this particular product was too costly and difficult to make for casual tasting.
Suoh accepted and tried it. The flesh was thick, sweet with just the right touch of tartness, the honey's mellow richness perfectly blending with the fruit's natural flavor.
No artificial flavoring or chemical aftertaste. Completely natural and delicious.
"Three packages of the moon plums. Wrap them up for me."
Suoh had originally intended to buy just two packages—one each for Kotama and Terada-san. But he couldn't resist getting one for himself as well.
"Right away!"
"That'll be ninety mon!"
The peddler's voice carried excitement. Rarely did he encounter such a generous customer. His hands moved nimbly, weighing out three portions and wrapping them carefully in oil paper, tying everything securely.
After a morning of shopping, Suoh had developed a decent sense of prices. These three small packages of snacks cost nearly as much as a full set of clothes.
Since Kotama beside him said nothing, it meant the peddler was doing honest business, charging fair prices.
Without changing expression, Suoh counted out the copper coins. After paying, he took the oil paper packages from the peddler, then immediately turned and offered one to Kotama.
"Kotama-san, this is for you."
"Eh... for me?"
Kotama froze slightly, staring at the package held before her.
"You helped me so much yesterday, and you spent all morning accompanying me today. I don't know how else to thank you—please accept this small token of appreciation."
Suoh smiled and nodded, his tone sincere.
Without her company today, he'd have wasted countless steps and spent far more money than necessary. Her thoughtful, attentive guidance was worth far more than a package of preserved fruit.
"Thank you, Tsukasa. You shouldn't have spent so much."
Seeing his genuine sincerity, Kotama didn't refuse excessively. She accepted the gift.
Afterward, Suoh escorted her home at the other end of the street, then hurried back toward the izakaya along the earthen road he'd come from.
The sun climbed higher. He estimated the time mentally—still early. Terada-san had given him plenty of time.
He understood and appreciated Terada-san's consideration and generosity. Wandering around idly wasn't his style anyway. Since he'd accomplished his goals, he might as well return early and help prepare for service.
When people treated him sincerely, he should repay them wholeheartedly—that was his principle.
Passing an empty lot in front of some houses, cheerful shouting caught his attention.
"Hiya, take this!"
"Ahahaha, don't run!"
Four children around ten years old wielded crude wooden swords, chasing each other across the dusty clearing. Their small faces flushed red as the wooden swords in their hands clacked together intermittently with sharp snapping sounds.
Watching the scene, Suoh's expression brightened with pleasure.
Last night he'd already planned what to buy today. One key item had been a wooden sword—unfortunately, he hadn't found any for sale.
The Soul Society had no wars. Even violent conflicts in Rukongai mostly concentrated in the extremely high-numbered outer districts.
In places like West District 3 with good security and relatively abundant resources, ordinary souls mostly lived peaceful lives. They had no need for weapons.
Environment determined the market. Naturally, no craftsmen specialized in forging iron blades. Commissioning a custom piece would draw too much attention.
After consideration, Suoh had turned his focus to wooden swords—they could satisfy basic training needs without attracting excessive notice.
He'd even specifically asked Kotama about it today. Unfortunately, she didn't know where to buy one, and none of the carpenters she knew could make them. The disappointment had been unavoidable.
Thinking it through, it made sense. After all, making wooden swords was complex, time-consuming, material-intensive, and labor-intensive. The finished product could only serve as a toy and wouldn't sell for much.
Suoh's gaze settled on the wooden swords in the children's hands. Though roughly made with obvious chisel marks, and sized down for children's heights, the blade curvature and handle thickness followed proper form overall.
Clearly a family elder had carved these from memory to give them toys for play—casual work that still showed some genuine care.
***
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