#yyyyyyep

Shuuichi bothers to smile -- though not to make it seem genuine -- as he scrambles to figure out what Matoba could mean. Already he can sense the curious half-glances of nearby exorcists; anything the Matoba clan head says is worth overhearing.

“I thought it was especially touching when you promised to protect the female lead forever.”

Did someone in the crowd just stifle a laugh? Shuuichi drops the veneer of distant civility, hurries Matoba into a corner of the room.

“That was incredibly immature,” he hisses, when they’re close enough to alone. In afterthought: “Stop watching my movies.”

Matoba’s smirk relaxes into ambiguity. “But they can be quite rewarding. That speech about resisting one’s fate, for instance -- delivered with such conviction. An interesting scene.”

Shuuichi stares.

It’s Matoba who looks away first, for once. “Well. See you around, Natori-san. Do your best.”

“You too,” Shuuichi says instinctively, sincere despite himself. “Seiji--”

Matoba glances back, smile edged with a familiar self-assurance. “Of course I will.”