The previous night's storm had all passed, leaving a bright blue sky for Kasanoda and Tetsuya when they set out. Their bags were laden with good eats packed for them by the Nekowara maid, and the little girl who had given them such a fright the night before was very reluctant to part with Kasanoda, who—despite still reminding her of a demon-cat god—made a rather fine plaything.

They were maybe a couple hours down the road when Kasanoda begged Tetsuya to stop.

"Rock in your shoe, Waka?"

Kasanoda waved in place of an answer, because he was yawning too hard to say anything. "Just need a break. I didn't get as much sleep last night as you did."

Considering he hardly got any himself, Tetsuya could sympathize.

"Do you mind if I run ahead and see if there's a place nearby we can get a drink or something?" he suggested. "I mean, unless you want me to stay with you, that is. Otherwise, I figured, you could try to catch a few z's—"

"A little cat nap would go a long way right now," Kasanoda said, taking a seat on a big rock on the side of the road. "Go ahead, if that's what you want to do. You don't have to worry about me."

"Okay, if you're sure. Because I'll be right back—"

"That's fine. I'll be here."

That was all the reassurance Tetsuya needed. He headed off. No sooner had he disappeared around the bend then the calm of nature and the quiet of the empty road made Kasanoda's eyelids start to feel very heavy.

He had just begun to drift off when he heard, as though out of a dream, a soft singing coming toward him from the opposite direction.

Kasanoda glanced up, and had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn't actually sleeping. A flock of high school-age girls was singing as they skipped down the road toward him, and they made Kasanoda wonder if he had woken up back in the twenty-first century, because they were all dressed in modern clothing. Somewhat. Some of them had the FRUiTS look going on, and there was even an orange-tanned, bleached-blond ganguro among them who looked alarmingly familiar, but most were wearing the frilly Victorian, grown-up doll clothes characteristic of the Elegant Gothic Lolita style.

When they saw Kasanoda sitting on the rock on the side of the road, they stopped in their tracks as one, ran up to him, curtsied, and inquired in unison, "Who goes there?"

Kasanoda leaped to his feet, bent his knees, bowed his head, and stuck his arm right back. "It is I, called Kasanoda Ritsu!" he said in a loud, gruff voice.

The girls' faces fell as they stood back up, moaning disappointedly.

Kasanoda straightened himself up as well. "Why? Who are you guys?"

"We're Dungeon Master Umeboshi's Pleasure Squad!" one of the girls cheerily proclaimed, followed by another round of "Dungeon Master Umeboshi's pleasure is our pleasure too-o-o-o," which was the tune they had been singing on the road.

"Okay. Cool. Er, and who is this Dragon Mister Umeboshi?"

At Kasanoda's innocent question, the girls all stopped and stared. More than a few mouths fell open in shock, and one of the girls even lost her Miffy backpack.

The girls exchanged incredulous glances. "Who is Dungeon Master Umeboshi?"

"Dungeon Master Umeboshi is only the most powerful, most handsome level-nine wizard in these parts," said the ganguro. "That's his MyPage right there."

And she pointed to a wooden sign hanging on the tree underneath which Kasanoda had inadvertently been sitting.

It did in fact look like a MyPage posting, except for the very obvious fact that it was written into a piece of wood. A portrait of a good-looking, aristocratic-looking young man with chin-length fair hair and a gentle smile had been tacked onto the bottom of it. Kasanoda thought he looked vaguely familiar.

"He's so dreamy," one of the lolita girls sighed.

"Thanks to Dungeon Master Umeboshi," one of the FRUiTS chimed in, "our village had a bumper crop this year."

"And thanks to Dungeon Master Umeboshi," the ganguro said in a raspy voice with way too much enthusiasm, "I lost eight kilos!"

"He is, he is a wonderful wiz, if ever a wiz there was," a girl wearing a black Victorian dress and bonnet said in a timid voice, prompting her friends to squeal amongst themselves that that was so like Dungeon Master Umeboshi and that he would just love it to death, before they burst into fits of giggles and high-fives.

Kasanoda rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment for them. "This Umeboshi sounds like some guy."

"Damn right, he is!" said the ganguro. "Only problem is, he was supposed to meet us here. . . ."

"Hey, maybe you can help us find him!" one of the lolita girls suggested, to which the rest of them nodded violently like a chain reaction of bobble-head dolls.

Kasanoda could not have very well said no after that. But he didn't even have a chance to answer, because the next moment he was being swept away by the whole school of FRUiTS and lolita girls.

Somewhere along the way they managed to slip a spare frock over his uniform trousers. Not that Kasanoda really remembered it happening, nor did he particularly care. He could not remember exactly where along the road he dropped his inhibitions either, but it was strangely freeing to flounce along with a whole bunch of floozies who were all really supportive of that look for him, singing "Dungeon Master Umeboshi's pleasure is our pleasure too-o-o-o!" all the way.

They bounced around taking emo pictures of one another with their cell phones next to old mile posts and weird tree trunks, then settled down to debate the merits of domesticity and the proper usage of plaid, and shared their Visual Kei music with him while they made little yarn voodoo dolls and dandelion chains—which Kasanoda actually found strangely enjoyable, seeing as it gave him something to do with his hands. Perhaps it was being surrounded by men who were rather obsessed with machismo his entire life that made the whole experience feel so freeing.

"What the. . . . Waka?"

Kasanoda spun as he noticed the shadow descend over their little circle. He jumped up from his seat on the grass, bent his knees—remembering his modesty just after the fact, despite that he still had his trousers on under the frilly skirt—put out a hand, and said in his manliest voice, "Who goes there?"

Tetsuya was too flabbergasted to answer. All he could do was stand and stare, open-mouthed, at Kasanoda.

Kasanoda straightened up and turned to see the FRUiTS and EGL girls all staring back at the newcomer in what he mistakenly thought must be the normal amount of apprehension toward strangers.

"It's okay," he assured them, going over to grab Tetsuya's sleeve, "he's a friend. This is Tetsuya, my traveling buddy. Hey, man, so did you find a place we can get a decent meal—"

"Forget that, what the hell is this?" Tetsuya finally found his voice, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the frilly dress. "Who did this to you, Waka—why do you look like a Center Guy?"

Kasanoda recovered his manly pride then—and remembered the tiny top hat someone had put on his head, which he quickly pulled off with a snap of elastic. Which still did nothing to fix the main problem of the black, lacy skirt sticking out in almost a foot's radius all around him. "I know, I know. It's stupid—"

"No! That's not what I meant at all—"

Tetsuya blushed and both of them immediately looked away from each other.

"Er, I mean, it's girly," Tetsuya tried again, trying not to look at the young master even though he really wanted to commit this to memory, weird as it made him feel, "but it's not ba— I mean, it's different. . . ."

"I just did it as a joke," Kasanoda said in a tiny voice, "you know—"

"Oh, of course! No, I mean, what else would it be? It's not like a . . . like a hobby or anything . . ."

"They forced me into it. Really, I just did it for the chicks. 'Cause, you know, I'm secure in my masculinity like that. . . ."

Speaking of which, the girls Kasanoda had come with, who had been all abuzz with excitement just moments ago, had gone strangely quiet and were suddenly all too interested in the hems of their frocks. "Hey. What's gotten into you guys anyway?"

"Your hair's really pretty," one of the FRUiTS managed in a tiny voice. "Is it real?"

Kasanoda started. "Huh? Oh, Tetsuya, I think she means you."

"Me? Why? Dude, isn't that the yamanba we caught cheating at the goldfish game last summer—"

Kasanoda elbowed him.

"Um, yeah," Tetsuya answered stonily, "I grew it out in high school."

This answer prompted a brief fit of giggling and stifled squealing in a frequency too high for the boys to really make any sense out of.

"Um," one of the lolita girls mumbled shyly, twisting a curl around her finger, "do you have a steady?"

The two boys exchanged confused glances. Nor was Tetsuya the only one feeling the pressure under their coy glances and bashful smiles. However, he must have been aware that he did cut just the kind of rakish, angsty figure that would appeal to their sensibilities, what with his hanging sweater, Shinsengumi hairstyle, and random Band-aid. It was just that now he knew a little what it was like to be a fillet mignon.

He gulped.

"So anyway! Waka. I met this guy on the road and he gave me directions to some great places to eat in the area. Ain't that right?"

Tetsuya said that last part over his shoulder, whereupon Kasanoda looked back to see a small, dark figure of a young man standing about twenty paces away in the tall grass, dressed in long underwear and for some unknown reason wearing a sock on one hand. He was hunched underneath a ratty blanket, and was holding an old, weather-beaten, holey umbrella over his head.

"Hey, come on over!" Tetsuya waved to him. He added as an aside to Kasanoda, "Poor sod got mobbed on the road before I met up with him. Said it was by some demon-possessed gimp, but I'm pretty sure it was those twins. Took everything including the guy's wig, and he's terrified of sunlight. He actually made a new one out of hanging moss, if you can believe that, which is pretty ingenious if you don't think about all the bugs that were probably living in it—"

"Wait a second. Afraid of sunlight. That sounds kinda familiar. . . ."

"Yeah, well, you don't want to know how much convincing it took to get him to crawl out from that hollowed log."

"What's with the sock—"

"Yeah, no, really it's best not to ask. Hey!" Tetsuya called out when the guy still refused to come any closer to them than twenty paces. By this time, the girls were curious as to what had distracted the attention of their center of attention, and craned their necks to see who it was. "We're not gonna bite," Tetsuya tried when the young man shook his head violently. "Come on over and meet everyone. Say, what'd you say your name was again?"

The young man bit his lip, took a deep breath, and mumbled something they couldn't quite catch.

"What? We couldn't quite catch that."

"N-Nekowara Umeboshi," the young man stammered, pulling the umbrella lower over himself.

"Nekowara? Like the place we just left?" Having wormed halfway back out of his dress, Kasanoda started. "Wait. Umeboshi?

"Hey!" he said to the girls—who suddenly looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there. "Isn't that the guy you've been waiting for, Whatsit Master Umeboshi? Well, come on, let's hear that song you guys have been rehearsing! And a one, and a two. . . ."

He got nothing.

Kasanoda deflated. "What's the matter with you guys? Cat got your tongue?"

Tetsuya winced at the pun. "Oh, Waka. . . ."

Needless to say, some ten minutes later found the gaggle of girls skipping behind the two boys singing, "Tetsuya's pleasure is our pleasure too-o-o-o!"

And the young man in question could feel a migraine steadily coming on as the refrain was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. . . .

"I can't stand it any more, Waka!" he told Kasanoda between gritted teeth.

"So they like you. They think you're hot. What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? You wanna trade places with me, be my guest." Tetsuya bit back an f-bomb. "What did I do to deserve this, huh? I swear, I'm gonna snap if I have to hear that stupid 'Tetsuya's pleasure is our pleasure' one more freakin' time—"

As though on cue, it started up again.

"Shut up!" Tetsuya rounded on them. "What the hell's wrong with you all, huh? Don't you have anything better to do?"

Instead of scaring them off, however, the girls just bunched up and fawned over how cute he looked when he was angry. Tetsuya remembered to take deep breaths.

Which was when Kasanoda got a brilliant idea. While Tetsuya was still fuming, he pulled the band right off the other's ponytail, making Tetsuya jump and clamp a self-conscious hand around his loose hair.

"Hey, check it out!" Kasanoda said, waving the rubber band around.

The girls stopped in their tracks, following it hungrily with their eyes like dogs watching a bone.

"Oh my god, it touched Tetsuya's hair!" Kasanoda squealed in a rather accurate impression of them, enjoying his newfound power way too much. "Maybe he even slept in it!"

"Cut that out, Waka! Seriously. I need that back!"

"Oh, oh . . ." Kasanoda loaded the rubber band onto his fingers like a slingshot and let it rip. It flew over the girls' heads and a lot farther than Kasanoda had thought possible, disappearing somewhere into the woods. "Oh my gosh, where did it go?"

He might as well have announced a nail art giveaway on the corner of Omotesando. The girls spun and took off after the rubber band like one creature, and Umeboshi barely made it out of the way with his life as he screamed "Stampede!" and clutched his tattered umbrella close.

That was Kasanoda and Tetsuya's cue to get the hell out of there.

While the girls were busy hunting for the latter's hair tie, they took off in the other direction, sprinting down the road as though a herd of elephants was hot on their heels. They didn't stop until they reached the safety of the trees again and they could no longer hear the girls behind them, a terrified Umeboshi joining them a few seconds later—upon which he promptly collapsed and lay quite still in front of them.

Still giddy from the chase, Tetsuya couldn't quite help his laugh. "Is he dead?"

"Yes," came the muffled response from the heap on the ground.

"Hey, what the heck happened?" Kasanoda wanted to know as the other pushed himself back up. "Wasn't that your pleasure squad back there?"

"Yes, well, you see, I never actually met any of them before. I guess my fine reputation dost precede me." But even as Umeboshi said so, there was a sad irony in his tone of voice. "Here." He handed Tetsuya what looked like a twisted paper clip.

Which Tetsuya wound around his hair. "Thanks. That's just what I needed."

"See? And that's just what I'm here for. Mr Johnny-on-the-spot."

"I know you're trying to strike out on your own and all, but, you know, you really oughtta go home once in a while," Kasanoda told him. "Your little sister's worried sick about you."

Umeboshi started and looked up at him. "Really?"

"And your maid and secretary miss you, too."

His supposed fan club may have been put off by his downtrodden appearance, but Kasanoda could see there was still something of that handsome, honest-faced boy on the Edo-period MyPage post, behind the dirt and the hanging-moss wig.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "For so long have I been trying to make a name for myself, I lost sight of that most basic of truths, that moderation is the best approach to all things—even when it comes to the forces of darkness that have served me so well."

"Er, yeah," Kasanoda said, having seen how much good said forces had done him. "Like you said."

Umeboshi put out a frail hand—the one not covered by an old sock—which neither of the other two really wanted to shake now.

"Thank you," he said nonetheless. "I shan't forget our meeting. May the demon-cat god of my ancestors bless you both!"

Kasanoda and Tetsuya couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or not, but thought it best not to ask.