Kumiko's claim of knowing Asakusa like her backyard proved legit—she navigated the shopping streets without a map, her confidence pulling me along like a tether. I trailed her petite frame, hands in pockets, as we wove through the springtime crowd, the air thick with the scent of street food and incense from nearby Sensoji Temple.
Our first stop was a paper craft shop bursting with color. Vibrant parasols and temari balls embroidered with floral patterns lined the shelves. Kumiko's eyes lit up, her fan fluttering as she inspected each item, but nothing screamed "perfect gift" for the Russian exchange student. We moved on to a store packed with carved statues, where the burly owner boasted that foreign tourists snapped up his mini figurines as souvenirs.
Kumiko scanned the shop, then pointed her fan at a towering Bishamon statue. "How's this? It's grand and ornate—perfect as a decorative piece."
"It's… impressive, but isn't it too big?" I said, eyeing the near-human-sized bronze figure. A glance at the price tag revealed six zeros. Sure, Kumiko's wealth could cover it without blinking, but wouldn't it overwhelm the recipient?
The owner, a jovial man with a booming laugh, saw her pick differently. "Hahaha! Young lady, you've got an eye for quality! This is one of our finest pieces!"
Kumiko preened, fanning herself. "Indeed, I, Saionji Kumiko, have honed an impeccable aesthetic sense since childhood. My eye for such art is unmatched."
"Check this one out too!" the owner urged, pulling out another intricate Buddha statue.
"Oh, what a splendid form!" she cooed, drawn into his pitch.
This was her usual pattern—getting swept up in flattery and tangents. Bored, I scrolled my phone, half-listening to their banter about craftsmanship and spiritual symbolism. Then, abruptly, Kumiko straightened, her face stiffening. "Oh, my! I got carried away. I have other matters to attend to."
"What? Leaving already?" the owner said, disappointed. "I was about to show you my prized collection!"
"I shall return another day," she said, her aristocratic tone kicking in as she glided out.
What's up with her? Normally, she'd chat for another fifteen minutes. I nodded to the owner and followed her out. Outside, she crouched, hand to her ear, muttering under her breath.
"President? You okay?" I asked.
"Eek!" She yelped, springing up. "N-nothing's wrong! I just… need the restroom!"
"Oh, there's a tourist info center nearby with one. Let's go."
"Please lead the way. I've never been there," she said, her voice oddly tight.
"Follow me." I headed toward the center of the shopping street, puzzled but shrugging it off.
***
Midway through her statue debate, Kumiko flinched as a voice crackled in her earpiece. [Young Miss, this isn't the time for that.]
Startled, she stiffened. The shop owner frowned. "You alright, miss?"
"Just a sudden chill," she lied, brushing it off. Touching her Bluetooth earpiece disguised as an earring, she hissed in ventriloquist mode, "Minami, quieter!"
Aizawa Minami's voice didn't soften. [Young Miss, you're here for a date, not statue shopping. Look behind you—Kim Yuseong is bored, staring at his phone. Keeping your partner engaged is Dating 101.]
Kumiko's heart sank. She glanced back, catching my blank scroll through my phone screen. Oh no! She'd botched the vibe. Cutting off abruptly, she apologized to the owner. "Oh, my! I got carried away. I have other matters to attend to."
"Leaving as already?" I said, disappointed. "I was about to show you my prize collection!"
"I shall return another day," I said.
After a graceful exit, she crouched outside, whispering to Minami, "Where to next?"
[We've seen parasols, temari, and statues. Now, it's time for kimonos or yukatas.]
Kimonos! Yukatas! Even Kumiko, a romantic novice, knew these screamed charm. [If you can stall us for a bit, we'll secure the kimono shop. Just play along.]
"Stall? How do I—" she started, but my voice cut in. "President? You okay?"
She yelped, bolting upright. "N-nothing! I need the restroom!"
It was a flimsy excuse, but it clicked—perfect for buying time. A quick bathroom break would suffice. Guilt pricked her, but she doubled down when I offered, "There's a tourist info center nearby. Let's go."
"Please lead the way. I've never been," I said, lying through her teeth.
[Five minutes. Just hold out for five minutes.]
***
"Stay put, brother," Minami said, yanking off her headset.
"What?!" Shinjiro barked, but she'd already swapped heels for sneakers. Kicking open the limousine door, she sprinted out at breakneck speed.
"Minami!" Shinjiro leaned out, but she was a blur, tearing toward a kimono shop two blocks away—two kilometers from their parked stakeout.
Golden Week's opening day packed Asakusa with families, the streets a maze of strollers and selfie sticks. Running here risked chaos, but for a Koga-ryu kunoichi like Minami, trained in grueling conditions, it was nothing. She vaulted over a shop's signboard, using it as a springboard to clear the crowded promenade, twisting midair to land lightly on the sidewalk.
"Wow!" Passersby clapped, mistaking her for a street performer.
"Cool, miss!"
"Some kind of event?"
No time to bask. 100 meters straight, then right for 300. She exploded forward, her mental map guiding her. In her crisp office attire, she outran Olympic sprinters, drawing gasps and stares.
"Butterfly!" a toddler squealed, darting into her path from a blind corner, chasing a toy.
"...!" Too late to brake. Minami somersaulted over the child and the pursuing mother, landing without breaking stride. She waved "I'm fine" to the stunned mom and kept running. Three minutes left.
Kumiko would soon get antsy at the info center. Spotting a residential alley, Minami saw a calico cat strolling atop a wall. Without hesitation, she leaped onto a mailbox, then the wall, startling the cat. "Nyaaa!" it yowled, fleeing.
"Sorry," she muttered, animal lover at heart, then dashed along the wall. Two minutes. The wall ended, forcing her onto a house's roof. Light-footed, a kunoichi's hallmark, she glided across tiles, barely a sound, hopping roof to roof. One minute.
Reaching an alley to the arcade shopping street, she dropped from a rooftop, startling pedestrians. Unfazed, she sprinted the final stretch, veering left. Scrape! Bursting into the kimono shop, panting, she thrust a black card at the wide-eyed owner. "I'm renting this place for an hour!"
***
Kumiko's playing 4D chess with her ninja crew, and I'm just here eating ice cream. Her statue obsession was cute, but Minami's right—she's tanking the "date" vibe. This gift hunt's turning into a spy caper, and I'm the clueless sidekick. The Russian student better like kimonos, 'cause Minami's risking life and limb for it. Asakusa's alive, but this manga world's plot twists are keeping me on my toes.