Chapter Text
An’s head was killing her. The pain throbbed behind her eyes, spreading slowly through her skull like the echo of a hit she had not quite recovered from. Every movement made it worse, though she tried to ignore it.
Worse than that was the right sleeve of her hoodie, which hung loose and half-shredded around her arm. The fabric was torn and streaked with dirt from the chaos that had just unfolded. It dragged with each step like a wet rag.
That was going to need some stitching.
Maybe Mizucchi could help with that?
If anyone knew how to fix something like this, it would be them. She was sure of it, after learning about their older sister.
An let out a quiet sigh as she looked over the front yard. The place was wrecked. Chunks of broken pavement were scattered across the ground, and the grass near the walkway had been torn up in wide patches. The black, sticky paint that the possessed girl had used was smeared everywhere. It coated the sidewalk and clung to the pavement in uneven swirls, spreading out from the body of the dead Alien like a dark stain that refused to dry.
“Oyaji is going to freak out,” she muttered, tapping the asphalt with the toe of her shoe. “Huh…what am I gonna do?”
She crouched down slowly, elbows resting against her knees as she cradled her head in her hands. Her temples pulsed beneath her fingers, the ache still humming deep in her skull.
Ow. Why won’t this damn headache go away?”
“Is that really Enanan?!” Mizucchi, behind her, was busy talking to—
Ugh. Freaking Asahina. Why did she have to be here?
“Yes, for the last time, that is her. Stop asking the same question, Amia,” Asahina murmured with a disinterested expression. “You still haven’t explained anything about why you are here with Shiraishi-san.”
“I live here!” An snapped, standing up in frustration. She was already fed up with Asahina and her haughty, snobbish attitude.
“That explains a lot. Why didn’t your Torii have an Akuryo Taisan to protect the area?”
An gulped, looking away. “I… I removed it so that Mizucchi wouldn’t get burned.”
“That was very reckless, Shiraishi-san.”
The way she said it made something twist in An’s chest. That cold, emotionless voice like she was reading out a book report, not talking to a real person. It always sounded like she was above everything, like she was too perfect to be wrong about anything.
An hated it.
“I know that, okay? No need to rub it i—”
“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY YARD?!” A gruff voice exploded behind them. “WHY IS THERE THIS STUPID BLACK PAINT EVERYWHERE, AND IS THAT A GIANT SUMO ?!”
“Fuck…” An groaned into her hands, hearing the heavy footsteps of her dad getting closer. All she wanted was to crawl into her bed and take a nice, long nap. But no… She was stuck out here in her destroyed yard, facing the wrath of her father's impending doom, a dead Alien, and two Yokai.
Just great. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Shiraishi-san, could you please get up and suppress your partner’s Yokai while I tend to mine?” Asahina asked, still with that detached tone that made An want to scream . It was like nothing ever rattled her. Like Mizucchi writhing in pain two feet away was just another mild inconvenience to handle. An clenched her jaw.
“A-An?…” Mizucchi moaned, their voice strained.
An lifted her head and peeked through her fingers. Mizucchi was already halfway through another transformation, their body flickering with unstable energy that made the air feel warped around them.
Asahina was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her own partner now, one hand resting gently on the girl’s head, which lay in her lap. Her expression remained unchanged, calm and unreadable, as if none of the chaos unfolding around them mattered at all.
That’s a really intimate position, even for Asahina. What’s her relationship with the other girl?
The way Asahina pressed her glowing hand to the brunette’s cut cheek made An want to look away. It was too calm, too serene, almost like she didn’t belong here in the middle of all this chaos. She stuck out like a sore thumb in the wrecked courtyard, like an island in the middle of a stormy sea. Her fingers moved gently, tracing the wound with careful precision, healing it as if it were nothing more than a small inconvenience.
Wait, can her powers heal, too?!
“Ah-…An?… H-help me…,” Mizucchi begged weakly, making her spin around and raise her hands to contain the Yokai inside her partner.
Partner…
Her dad’s voice cut through the noise, rough and urgent as he rushed over. His eyes quickly took in the scene before settling on her with a mix of concern and disbelief. “Are you alright? What on earth happened while I was at work, and who are all these girls?”
An forced a tight smile, feeling her cheeks flush. “Uh… I kind of awakened my psychic powers, my friend got possessed by a Yokai, and then we got attacked again…”
Ken sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, bracing himself for what was to come. “Figures. That explains the wreckage. We are going to have a very serious talk later, young lady.”
His gaze shifted to Asahina, narrowing slightly in recognition. “And you’re here too? Was this mess really so bad that you had to drag out Shibuya’s prodigy for a rescue?”
An’s stomach tightened. She bit her lip and muttered, “Oyaji…” The heat in her face grew.
Seriously?
“Hello, Ken-san. It’s nice to see you again,” Asahina said with her usual flawless, polite smile.
An’s skin crawled. That mask was always there, cold and unreadable, as if nothing could ever touch her beneath that perfect surface. Watching her made An want to shake her just to see if anything real was underneath.
She wondered why Asahina never bothered to do that with her. Probably because she wasn’t worth it.
“You, too. Haven’t seen you since you were just a kid,” Ken said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the remains of the giant alien sprawled messily across his porch. The sight made his jaw tighten as if trying to make sense of something impossible.
“For the record, Ken-san, that was not the monster I sensed earlier,” Asahina said quietly but firmly. “The Yokai who triggered it was Amia. I have no idea where that giant thing your daughter was fighting came from.”
Ken scratched the back of his neck and sighed. He fixed An with a steady, serious look. “Alright, kiddo, you owe me an explanation. What the hell is going on?”
An hesitated, the weight of his gaze making her swallow hard. “You probably wouldn’t even believe it if I told you.”
“Try me,” he said, his voice low but steady like a rock she could lean on even when the world felt like it was intentionally trying to sabotage her .
An sighed, knowing this was going to take some time.
Once inside, she laid out everything for her dad. Asahina and her partner, Shinonome Ena, Akito’s older sister, were invited in as well. Everyone took a seat around the table except Shinonome, who rested quietly on one of the spare futons.
“…So, yeah, that’s pretty much why we’re being hunted now,” she finished, her hand still hovering over Mizucchi’s body.
“Aliens? Were they also the ones that caused your powers to awaken?” Asahina asked, her tone skeptical but curious.
“Beats me. I did hear one of them mumbling about overstimulating my brain before I knocked him down,” An said, tilting her head and tapping her chin. “I was too focused on getting to Mizucchi to really listen.”
Asahina pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It’s getting late. I should have been home a while ago, and Enanan needs to rest.”
Ken stood up abruptly, his eyes sharp and serious. “Asahina-chan, please stay the night. There’s no reason for you to go out in this kind of danger. Also, we need all the help we can get.” His voice was firm, but beneath it lay a protective edge that even An hadn’t heard from him before.
“What are you suggesting?” Asahina asked, sounding genuinely confused by the proposal.
“Look, I can’t have kids wandering around at night when gods only know what’s out there,” Ken said firmly. “Just stay here tonight. I’ll handle your parents. The other girl is still recovering, right? Let her get some rest.”
Asahina hesitated, clearly thinking about the offer. An couldn’t help but admit that if there was one redeeming quality about her dad, it was his fierce sense of responsibility. The man had even supported Akito when he was struggling with his sound, something she had never expected. She sighed quietly to herself, relieved that he hadn’t reacted badly to the bet or the chaos.
“I’ll get a couple more futons from the closet. An, make some tea in the meantime,” he said before walking down the hallway.
“That went better than I thought it would,” Mizucchi blinked. “Your dad is pretty chill. Why the rude slang towards him?”
An recoiled, withdrawing her hand from Mizucchi’s body, and looked away. “Can we please change the subject?”
“Oh sure, s-sorry…”
An’s expression tightened at the sound of Mizucchii’s voice cracking, but she did not say anything. She didn’t mean to sound cold. Still, the mention of her dad stirred something in her. The lies she had to keep, the way he had forced her to pretend things were fine when they were not, made it hard to forgive. Even now, knowing he was trying , knowing he cared , none of that could undo what had already been done.
She did not want Mizucchi to see that part of her, and did not want to explain why her heart still closed up the way it did.
She shifted uncomfortably, eyes fixed on the floor.
“It’s not your fault,” she muttered, quieter this time.
Mizucchi nodded as their soft eyes peered into her soul.
“Pardon me for asking, but why did you two bet on each other’s safety in the first place?” Asahina’s voice interrupted the moment, slicing through the atmosphere and tightening An’s jaw.
“We didn’t. It just… happened. I guess.”
Asahina gave no reaction. “So you deliberately chose to bet on the existence of Yokai, even though there was a ninety-five percent chance one of you would get possessed. Which, from what I can tell, happened.”
“For once, can you please take that stick out of your ass?” An muttered through clenched teeth. Mizucchi reached for her shoulder, fingers squeezing gently.
“Calm down. Yuki doesn’t mean it. She’s obviously really worried about all this, y’know?” they said, glancing toward Asahina with warning eyes.
“I am worried. Amia is someone I enjoy working with. I didn’t want another Nightcord member getting pulled into something like… this ,” Asahina replied. Her tone was controlled, but her brows had drawn slightly closer. The frustration was buried but visible. She was trying not to show how deeply it bothered her.
An bit the inside of her cheek, unsure why the comment made her feel so… sick. There was something about the way Asahina said it, like Mizucchi mattered more than she had expected. It wasn’t just professionalism. It felt… personal.
She didn’t know Mizucchi and Asahina were that close.
“Yuki…”
“Ena still needs to find the Yokai who stole her left thumb. Now you have something missing too,” Asahina said, her gaze falling on Mizucchi. “We will help you if you help us.”
“If that’s the case, you can start helping by training An and her friend,” Ken called out as he stepped back into the room. “I’m gonna be too busy getting ready for the show this Saturday. Wait.” His eyes landed on An. “Are ya gonna be there to perform with Akito?”
An’s stomach dropped. “No. He broke it off.”
“I figured that kid was gonna be a handful. What happened?”
“He got sick of people at school saying we were dating,” she answered quietly. Mizucchi patted her back again, light but steady.
“But you’re…”
“I know, Oyaji.”
Her father paused, the room silent except for the faint hum of the lights. His eyes sharpened. The shift was immediate. No jokes. No worn-out lecture. Just a still, cold fury rising in his posture.
“It’s his loss.”
An exhaled slowly, her breath catching on the way out. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become.
For once, he didn’t push.
For once, she wasn’t made to feel like she had messed up again.
“Ahem, about the training?” Asahina coughed into her fist. “I don’t know if that’ll be possible due to my busy schedule, but if Okaa-san approves, I might be able to dedicate some weeks to help your daughter learn chi control.”
An frowned. “Why am I getting a really bad feeling about this…”
Her dad brushed aside her concern with a small, encouraging smile. “Come on, she won’t torture you, An. I’d help myself, but she’s way stronger and more knowledgeable about this sorta thing. All I can do is make contracts with the gods. I don’t have much chi, not like you and Asahina-chan.”
“I could also train Amia,” Asahina said softly, her eyes drifting toward the sleeping Shinonome girl. “Perhaps Ena, too. She needs to confront Artist-Rin sooner rather than later.”
“Ne, Mafuyu, can you call me by my name? You calling me Amia sounds weird now that we’ve met.” Mizucchi let out a dramatic whine. “I mean, you already call Ena by her real name. It’s only fair.”
“…I suppose, if you’re okay with that?”
“I am, don’t worry!” Mizucchi said cheerfully.
An felt a quiet sting settle in her chest at Mizucchi’s reply. They had told Asahina their real name, speaking it without hesitation. Even Asahina , who barely spoke to anyone unless she had to, seemed strangely at ease around them.
Mizucchi once told her they were not friends with these people. That they did not trust anyone here. So why did it feel like that had never been true?
Also, why was she getting annoyed about it?
“An, you’re spacing out!” Mizucchi’s voice pulled her back, but her vision was already darkening around the edges. Her eyelids felt like they were being compressed by pure exhaustion.
“Damn, she used up too much of her chi,” Ken muttered, frowning. “Guess it’s time for all of us to get some sleep.”
“I can’t! What about Mizucchi? I still need to contain their Yokai,” An protested quickly, pushing herself upright.
Mafuyu raised an eyebrow at her outburst. “Shiraishi-san, you have a shrine outside. Just put Mizuki in there for the night…”
The name hit her like a splash of cold water.
Akiyama Mizuki.
The idol from Okinawa whose pretty face from her old playlist flickered into her mind. She blinked, suddenly unfocused. That image held too much weight, too much confusion. It only scattered further when the other Mizuki started whining again.
“Ehh? I don’t want to be alone. Why do I have to be in a tiny, cramped shrine?” Mizucchi crossed their arms in protest, pouting as if they had just been sentenced to exile.
“Ena will join you. She’s already asleep, and a heavy sleeper too,” Asahina said with a calm nod. “It will also give you time to bond. She gets too talkative, and you’re the perfect person to deal with it.”
“Well, geeze, thanks…” Mizucchi deadpanned. “Oi, An, you okay with this?”
“I mean…I do need to regain my energy.” An shook her head, ridding herself of her fantasies. “Asahina has a point.”
“Then it’s settled. Come on, Akiyama-san, let’s get you and the other girl into the shrine,” Ken declared, marching everyone outside.
The night air met them with a dense, damp chill, clinging to their skin and clothes. The clouds above had thinned just enough for moonlight to slip through in streaks, casting pale reflections across the mossy stone path. The shrine sat at the top of the slope, weathered and silent, its wooden doors shut beneath a curtain of white paper streamers swaying faintly in the wind. The lanterns lining the way flickered low, their light soft but unsteady.
Asahina adjusted her arms around the unconscious girl, lifting her with slow precision. She didn’t speak. An noticed how careful she was, how her gaze lingered on the girl’s missing finger joint before she looked away.
The expression on her face was unreadable. Not just tired or focused.
It looked like she was holding something back.
Guilt, maybe. Or regret. An could not tell. She only knew that Asahina had been acting like this from the beginning, keeping the details to herself.
There had still been no explanation of what had happened to cause the possession in the first place. Not even a hint.
Mizucchi walked a few paces behind, arms crossed, shoulders drawn tight. They glanced at An, then sighed and shut their eyes. A frown settled on their lips.
“If I get killed in there when she wakes up, I’m coming back to haunt you forever. Got that?”
An stared at them. “Why would she kill you?”
“Didn’t I say? Enanan gets irritated easily. What do you think is going to happen when she finds herself in a cramped room with someone she’s never met in person before ?” Mizucchi replied, their voice flat.
“Oh… yeah. That makes sense. I think.”
“If she causes any trouble, I’ll take care of it,” Asahina said calmly. “Her anger is usually what triggers the transformation.”
An’s father gave a low chuckle. “Doubt she’ll change in there. This shrine isn’t like the others. You’ve got one at your estate too, so you know what I mean.”
“I suppose,” Mafuyu murmured.
Her soft response made An glance over, eyebrows lifting. “Wait—what do you mean? You’ve done this kind of thing before, right?”
Mafuyu gave a small nod. “Yes. Twice, actually. I tried using the shrine at home to help Ena. But it wasn’t enough… so I found other ways.”
“You mean that purple collar?” An asked without thinking.
“It is more of an accessory, but yes. I imbued my chi into it. As long as she wears it, I can suppress Artist-Rin’s possession of her body, even from a distance.”
They were nearing the entrance of the shrine. The steps creaked beneath their shoes as they climbed, each sound swallowed by the thick stillness surrounding them. Fireflies drifted near the beams, their faint lights weaving lazily through the shadows. Thin white charms hung above the door, unmoving, as if even the breeze refused to cross the threshold.
Something about the air shifted. It felt heavier now, tense, like they were being watched by something just out of sight.
An said nothing, but her fingers curled slightly as she stepped forward.
Not even the trees moved. The usual chorus of insects had gone silent. Only the sound of their footsteps remained, along with the uneven beat of her own heart.
Asahina slid open the shrine door. The panel gave way easily beneath her hand, almost as if it had been waiting for someone to return. Inside, the air was still and untouched by time. It was neither stale nor dusty, but motionless. Tatami mats stretched out in neat lines across the floor, and a small offering table stood in the center of the room. Dust clung to the upper beams and gathered in the corners, yet nothing felt abandoned. The space had clearly been cared for and preserved.
She stepped inside first, still carrying Ena in her arms. Her expression remained calm and unreadable. Moving to the far end of the room, she knelt beside a futon that had been prepared earlier. With careful hands, she laid Ena down. Her fingers lingered briefly near the girl’s face, gently brushing a strand of hair away before pulling back. Ena did not stir.
Mizucchi stood in the doorway, eyes scanning the room with quiet interest. “This place has got a whole vibe,” they said under their breath. “If it’s cursed, it’s a really well-designed curse.”
An exhaled softly through her nose. “You say that like it’s a compliment.”
“It is,” Mizucchi replied. They stepped inside and crossed their arms loosely, looking around with calm curiosity. “Honestly, I’d live here. If it didn’t feel like something might whisper in my ear while I sleep.”
The door slid shut behind them with a soft click. An flinched at the sound.
It felt like something had closed them in.
A line had been crossed. The silence that followed was not empty- it pressed inward from all sides, thick and waiting.
It felt like the whole room was listening to them, waiting for something to happen.
Ken cleared his throat and glanced toward An and Asahina. “We should give them space. You all need rest, and this place is safe. For now.”
Asahina nodded. “Right. I’ll check in on her later.”
An took a deep breath, her fingers relaxing. “Mizucchi, you’ve got this. We’ll be in the house if you need us.”
Mizucchi offered a small, confident smile. “Don’t worry about me. Ena and I will be fine.”
The other three stepped back one by one, leaving Mizucchi and Ena behind the sliding door of the shrine. The wood closed with a quiet finality, sealing off the strange stillness inside.
Outside, the night air was crisp, but the weight of the moment pressed down on An’s chest like a silent warning. Her heart tugged in her chest, her head turning towards the shrine behind her.
I hope Mizucchi will be alright.
Ken stepped forward, his shoes crunching softly on the gravel. His usual rough voice was quieter now, but there was steel beneath it, the kind that only comes from years of carrying responsibility.
“This shrine isn’t just some old place to hide in,” he said, eyes narrowing as they fixed on An. “My family’s been guarding this spot for generations. It’s a shield as much as a refuge. You can’t just treat it like a tool. You have to respect it—respect what’s kept it standing all these years.”
An swallowed hard, feeling that familiar mixture of pride and pressure. Her dad always expected the best from her, and somehow that made everything both harder and clearer at the same time. Still, after everything he’d done…
Ken glanced toward Asahina, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “You’re not reckless, but even careful people slip. Don’t let yourself get dragged under by this. You know what I mean.”
Asahina met his look steadily and calmly. “I do. I’ll watch myself.”
Ken cracked a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good. Because if this place falls apart, it won’t be just you paying the price.”
An shifted on her feet, feeling the weight of those words settle like stones. This wasn’t just some fight they could walk away from.
It was a chain they had to carry.
Ken’s expression softened for a heartbeat as he looked at his daughter. “You’re tougher than you think, An. Don’t ever forget that.”
The night around them seemed to breathe out, the tension loosening just enough to let a quiet understanding pass between them without needing to say a word.
“HAAH?! Where the hell am I, and who are you?!”
The sudden shriek echoed from within the shrine, shattering the stillness. An nearly dropped the Talisman in her hand as she turned toward the closed door.
“Waaah, it’s me, Enanan! Ne, do you not recognise me? How mean.”
An’s eye twitched. That voice was unmistakably Mizucchi.
“A-Amia…?! WHY ARE WE IN HERE?!”
“Oh well, I didn’t want to be lonely, so Mafuyu suggested—”
“She what?! Ugh, I hate these creepy shrines. This one is even smaller than the last one she stuffed me in. Dammit, Mafuyu, let me out, you fucking Bi—”
A dull thud followed the shouting, accompanied by the sound of something toppling over. Then Mizucchi’s voice again rushed and muffled.
“Ena, calm down, you’re gonna wreck the place, we already owe Ken-san a new front yard, ow!”
“ Argh, Mafuyu! What’s the meaning of thi—gaaaah!”
“Ehh, what the…?”
An froze as a ripple brushed past her, faint but real. A strange pulse, like her vision, had blurred for a second. Her eyes followed the subtle lavender shimmer curling into the air, tracing it to where Asahina stood just a few steps away.
Asahina looked entirely calm. Her one hand was raised neatly in front of her, her expression unreadable. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned her head and met An’s gaze with a quiet, polite smile.
It made An’s skin crawl.
“I apologize for her foul mouth,” Asahina said gently, “and for using this much power to get her to stop. Ena is a difficult partner, but that’s only because she has little control over Artist-Rin’s Yokai abilities… sometimes I need to take full advantage of her necklace.”
“Hyaaah, she’s out cold! What the hell?!” Mizucchi shouted from within.
Ken exhaled through his nose, adjusting his sunglasses as if trying to make sense of the moment.
“Well, that’s one way to contain the possessed… remind me never to cross you, Asahina-chan.”
“Very well.”
An let out a sigh as she made her way toward the shrine, putting distance between herself and the argument still unfolding in the house. Her dad was going back and forth with Asahina’s mother, their voices rising and falling with tension. From the way that woman spoke, it was clear she wasn’t thrilled about her daughter’s powers or the attention they brought. Whatever. That was Asahina’s family business.
For now, she had her own task to focus on. The bento boxes for Mizucchi and Shinonome weighed lightly in her arms, and the spare pajamas were stuffed into the side pocket of her backpack, shifting with every step.
This was going to be super awkward.
She wondered whether that girl even knew of her and Akito. About how they used to be close, until things got weird once people from school started catching their performances on Vivid Street. He had called it off right after that. Then, to run into his sister the very next day felt like an insult on top of an injury.
Her dad was always going on about that old deal he made with the gods to protect their family from harm.
Guess irony did not count.
“Damn, so that’s why you lost your thumb. That sucks, Ena.”
Mizucchi’s airy voice reached her just as she reached the edge of the shrine.
The two of them were sitting close together on the porch, their figures partially wrapped in the soft light spilling out from the shrine behind them. Shadows stretched along the wooden panels, long and still in the quiet evening air. Shinonome looked worn down, her shoulders hunched and legs drawn in as if trying to hold herself together. Mizucchi didn’t seem much better. There was a tiredness in the way they leaned back, but their voice carried an effortful cheer, like they were trying to keep things from feeling too heavy.
“Yeah, well, at least I wasn’t the one who made some ridiculous bet with a Spirit Medium’s daughter,” Shinonome said, brushing her bangs out of her face with a tired flick.
Mizucchi let out a groan and dropped back onto the floorboards, one arm flung over their eyes with theatrical flair.
“Shut up. At least I was right, too. UFOs are real, just like I showed you in the DMs last week,” they said, crossing their arms with a playful huff.
“After fighting one, yeah, you got that right,” Shinonome muttered, clearly unimpressed as she leaned back against the porch beam.
“I wish I saw it,” Mizucchi said, voice lilting with admiration. “You must’ve looked so cool.”
That was An’s signal to jump in before the flattery got worse.
“Actually, Shinonome-san looked terrifying when she caught me,” she said, stepping forward as she pulled out the bags from her pack.
Shinonome glanced up, already frowning. “Oi, don’t call me that. I’m not my parents. Ena is fine.”
“Then call me An in return.” She offered a small smile and crouched to set the bento boxes and spare clothes neatly on the porch. “Mizucchi, you change first. There’s face cream in there too, for your skin.”
Mizucchi blinked up at her with wide eyes. For a second, they just stared, something unspoken passing between them. There was a subtle kind of gratitude in their expression, something soft that didn’t need words. An caught it right away, though she didn’t say a thing. Ena was sitting right there.
They hadn’t told her. She was sure of it.
“Ahh, thank you!” Mizucchi grinned and quickly grabbed the pink shorts, white tank top, and light jacket, which were tucked on top. “I’ll be right back.”
The porch creaked underfoot as Mizucchi disappeared into the side room, leaving An and Ena in a silence that stretched a little too long. When she finally looked over, Ena’s face had changed. The casual act was gone. Her brows were drawn, eyes sharp, and watching her.
“I don’t know exactly what happened,” Ena said quietly. “But since you saved Mizuki, I guess you’re not that bad, An-san. They didn’t tell me much. Just that seeing you like that, with those aliens trying to… do something to you, really scared them. It made them wish they were stronger.”
How can she say that so casually?
An groaned and pressed a hand over her face. “You seriously had to word it like that? You’re just as bad as Akito.”
Ena gave a half-shrug, not looking even a little sorry. “I’m just repeating what they told me.” Her voice softened a little, though she didn’t meet An’s eyes.
An turned her head toward the room Mizucchi had disappeared into. Her voice lowered—not out of fear, but something quieter, steadier. Something more like care.
“Did they tell you what Turbo-Meiko took from them?”
Ena looked at her, surprised for a second, but didn’t hold it against her.
“No. And I’m not gonna ask.” Ena’s voice was firm, but not cold. “It’s their business. After a month with Mafuyu, I’ve figured out when to back off.”
“Huh. So Asahina isn’t perfect after all.”
Ena let out a short laugh, reaching up to flick her braid back over her shoulder. “Nah, she’s still a freaking goddess. Well, a cold, irritating goody-two-shoes goddess. But even goddesses screw up sometimes. She’s got her own problems… same as everyone else.”
“She was pretty protective of you,” An said softly, her eyes distant for a moment.
“Well, it was kind of her fault I got caught up in all this.” Ena shrugged, but her smirk faded. “Dummy tried to—ugh, never mind. Let’s just say I was in the right place at the wrong time.”
An looked at her, brows drawing together. “What does that mean?”
“The second I stepped onto the Nijubashi bridge, the Yokai that’s been tied to the area… Artist-Rin made her move and took possession of my body.” Ena’s voice lowered, her words edged with something she didn’t want to unpack.
“What were you even doing in the Chiyoda district?”
“Otou-san had an exhibition. It ran late, so I snuck out early. I was just passing through when I saw Mafuyu at the bridge. She was… doing something.” Ena trailed off, eyes narrowing like she was warning herself not to say more. “Anyway. That’s it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Ena scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I doubt you’re gonna tell me what really happened with you and Mizuki, so I guess we’re even.”
“…Yeah.” An muttered, her voice barely audible. She felt her cheeks grow warm the second that name came up, thoughts slipping before she could stop them.
Ena didn’t miss it. “Hah? Why are you blushing ?” She arched an eyebrow, leaning forward with sudden interest.
An straightened up a little too fast, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “That name… It’s special, okay? Hearing it kinda makes me space out.” Her voice dropped as she added, almost too quietly, “Mizucchi has the same first and last name as this idol I had a crush on.”
There was a pause before Ena let out a snort, quickly muffling her laughter behind the back of her hand. “You’re serious? That’s why you call them Mizucchi? I thought it was because you two were close or something.”
An groaned, turning slightly away as if that could shield her. “No! We just started talking. Don’t make it weird.”
Ena leaned her elbows onto her knees, smirking. “Are you sure? The way you say their name is kinda suspicious.”
“Ugh—shut up!” An muttered, dragging a hand through her hair and avoiding Ena’s eyes. “You’re supposed to be the older one here.”
“Only by a year,” Ena said with a shrug, grin still intact.
The teasing gave way to a short silence, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves overhead.
An exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed somewhere past the edge of the shrine. “I don’t even know why it’s stuck in my head. Mizucchi’s nothing like that idol. They’re quiet. Kinda strange, too. Say stuff that doesn’t match their face at all…” Her voice softened, more to herself now. “It’s just different .”
Ena didn’t say anything right away. She watched her for a moment, then looked away with a faint smile.
“…Right. Different.”
An stayed silent, her eyes tracing the soft patterns of light on the tatami as the breeze whispered through the open shrine doors. She hoped the warmth in her cheeks would fade before Ena had a chance to tease her again.
A faint shuffle of wooden footsteps sounded from inside the shrine.
“Sorry for the wait,” Mizucchi said as they stepped lightly onto the porch.
They wore the pajamas An had brought earlier, pale pink shorts paired with a white tank top and a light pink jacket that hung loosely off their shoulders. The sleeves stopped just short of their wrists, and the fabric looked soft against their skin. Their bare legs caught the moonlight, smooth and slender, as they walked closer to where they were lounging.
An glanced over for only a second before quickly looking away.
Ena noticed.
“Hehehe. Are you blushing, again?”
“No,” An muttered.
“Heeh? You totally are.” Ena snickered with mischief in her eyes. “What, is it the pajamas? I didn’t know you were the type to get flustered over sleepwear.”
“I’m not flustered,” An snapped, but her voice was too fast and too defensive.
Mizucchi stepped carefully onto the wooden porch beside the two of them, pausing nearby. “Did something happen?” Their voice was soft, tinged with quiet curiosity.
“She’s just being annoying,” An said, pulling at her sleeve.
“You’re the one acting weird,” Ena said, folding her arms with a teasing smile. “I was just pointing it out, you know? Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a crush or something.”
An’s expression froze for a moment, caught off guard.
Ena gave her a long look, unreadable at first, before a smirk tugged at her lips. “Relax. I’m kidding. No need to get so worked up.”
An opened her mouth to reply, but Ena was already up and walking away. Her half-braid swung behind her with each step as she headed toward the shrine. “I’m gonna change before this gets worse. Try not to faint while I’m gone.”
Mizucchi tilted their head slightly, watching her disappear inside. “Did I miss something?”
“Nope,” An said quickly, hugging her knees a little closer.
“Oh, come on! Tell me!” Mizuki pouted as they dropped down to sit right in front of An, their eyes wide with playful insistence. “I won’t stop asking unti—”
“Ugh, you have the same stupid name as Akiyama Mizuki, a singer from Okinawa, okay?!” An burst out, flustered and clearly regretting it the second the words left her mouth. She hid her face in her knees, voice muffled. “Hearing it just… makes me think of her.”
“Oh…” Mizucchi blinked, the teasing slipping away from their face. “So that’s where the nickname comes from. I thought it was kind of random, but if it helps you feel less weird about it…” Their smile softened, gentle and unexpectedly sincere. “I really don’t mind. It’s a cute name. And I mean… I am super cute.”
An didn’t lift her head, but her voice came low and honest, almost a whisper. “…You are.”
The words hung between them, fragile and real. Silence settled in the space just as footsteps crunched on the gravel path nearby, pulling them both back to the present.
“Hello, Shiraishi-san,” Asahina said as she stepped onto the wooden porch, her white socks making no sound against the floorboards. Her voice was firm, measured, and her gaze held a steady, unreadable intensity. “Our parents came to an agreement. From now on, you’ll be under my supervision, and you’re expected to follow everything I say.”
“Huh?” An blinked, caught off guard. She was still sitting near the edge of the porch, arms loosely draped over her knees. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m only allowed a week off from school,” Asahina continued, standing with perfect posture. Her voice was calm but firm. “I plan to return by the end of next week. By then, I expect you to have gained some spiritual control and learned at least the basic techniques. The first thing you need to understand is how to fight. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be up no later than six in the morning.”
“Wait—whoa, slow down. What?!”
Asahina remained calm. “Mizuki and Ena will be with Ken-san. He’s taking time off from work to guide them. They’ll be learning meditation, physical conditioning, transformation, and basic hand-to-hand combat.”
“Oi, Mafuyu, could you please just explain what—” Ena stepped out of the shrine then, barefoot on the porch with her hair now undone like Mizucchi’s. She wore an oversized yellow t-shirt that fell past her waist and a pair of soft brown sleep shorts underneath. She rubbed at her temple, frowning. “What’s all this now?”
“We need to confront both Artist-Rin and Turbo-Meiko,” Asahina said plainly, her voice steady despite the tension building in the air. “The only way to do that is to train hard enough to face them. If any of us aren’t prepared, we’ll die.”
The last word hung in the air. Even the sound of the cars driving outside the residence seemed to be quiet for a moment.
An stared at her, lips slightly parted, unsure how to respond. Mizucchi sat nearby with their hands folded in their lap, blinking slowly as if processing everything in silence. Ena’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of tension crossing her face, but she said nothing right away.
No one laughed. No one argued.
Not after that.
“You really don’t hold back, do you?” Ena finally muttered, brushing a hand through her bangs with a sigh. “I guess it’s better than pretending.”
“I think we should all get some rest,” Mizucchi said softly. Their voice was gentle, but something behind it felt distant, like they were already carrying the weight of what was coming.
An didn’t reply. Her chest felt uncomfortably tight, the air thinning around her.
She stared down at the floorboards, doing her best not to think about what Asahina had said. She struggled to block out the image forming in her mind of facing something she could not see, something she could not escape from.
She pulled her knees up, hugging them close. Even if she didn’t say it, the thought echoed quietly in her head.
She didn’t want to die. Not before she figured any of this out.