Archive of Our Own ^beta

Momo woke up feeling… constricted. Yes, that was the only word for it. Oh, she was comfortably constricted, mind you. She was snuggled into something impossibly soft, silky, and pleasantly cool to the touch. But alongside that comfort was the undeniable sensation of being clamped in place by several gangly, similarly cool limbs.

She blinked blearily, her mind caught somewhere between dreaming and waking. The room was dim, illuminated only by a soft glow of white and red light. It took her a moment to register that the glow was coming from the mass of hair her face was currently buried in, Okarun’s shoulder.

Wait.

Her face was buried in… too much hair. The texture was different, too. It moved gently, undulating beneath her in a soothing rhythm, just faintly brushing against her other sense.

She squinted against the soft light, her drowsy brain struggling to make sense of the oddity. As she shifted slightly, her nose brushed against something ticklish. Opening her eyes fully, she took in the elongated limbs wrapped securely around her back.

Her gaze trailed downward, noting how his equally long legs were tangled with hers beneath the blanket. Even his tail, now significantly longer, had curled snugly around to rest on her thigh, completing the cocoon encasing her.

Her breath caught as she stared at his sleeping face. It was still familiar, but sharper somehow, the softer lines of his human features replaced with more angular ones. His lips were slightly parted, revealing small, pointed fangs that glinted faintly in the dim light.

He had transformed overnight. That was new. Usually, it was the opposite—Okarun falling asleep in his Turbo Granny form and waking up human by morning. This? This was uncharted territory.

But as cozy as this makeshift prison was, there was a very pressing reason she’d woken up: she really needed to pee.

Momo tried to shimmy free, hoping he’d loosen his grip in his sleep and roll over. No such luck. If anything, he tightened his hold, letting out a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest that made her pause.

“Okarun,” she whispered urgently, gently shaking one of his arms. “Okarun!”

“Momo-chan…” he mumbled sleepily, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through her. He didn’t even open his eyes.

God, his voice was so deep like this. She could feel it resonate in her very bones, and the sensation sent an unbidden shiver up her spine. But the jerk was still asleep, and her patience was quickly running out.

Time for desperate measures.

She leaned up as much as his iron grip would allow, positioning her mouth right next to his long, pointed ear. It twitched slightly as she took a deep breath.

“Okarun!” she yelled, directly into his ear.

The sound that erupted from him was utterly unearthly—a mix between a screech and a howl as he shot upright, sharp toothed muzzle clicking into place. Unfortunately, his sudden movement dragged her along for the ride, her face colliding unceremoniously with his chest as he sat up.

“Okarun!” she said again, this time with significantly more heat, rubbing her sore nose.

He blinked groggily at her, his glowing eyes darting around the room before finally settling on her, now perched in his lap, with expression was anything but amused.

“You didn’t need to yell,” he muttered mulishly, his larger jaw receding back into the spiritual energy swirling around his neck.

“Oh, I bloody well did,” she snapped. “You were using me like a damn body pillow and would. Not. Let. Go!”

He had the audacity to blink at her again, slow and deliberate, as if her words were still filtering through his sleep-addled brain. Then, to her utter disbelief, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice still rumbling and low, “maybe I don’t want to let you go after that.”

Before she could properly process what he’d just said, he wrapped his arms around her again and flopped back down onto the pillows, dragging her down with him.

“G’night, Momo-chan,” he murmured, his lips brushing her hair.

“Okarun!”

“Snore,” he replied, completely deadpan.

She stared at him, incredulous. “Okarun, I swear to god I am going to piss on you at this rate,” she growled.

That got his attention. His grip loosened immediately, and she scrambled out of the bed, stomping off to the bathroom to finally relieve herself.

When she returned, Okarun looked suitably guilty, sitting upright in the bed with his knees drawn up under the duvet. He glanced at her sheepishly, though the faint red still staining his cheeks suggested he wasn’t entirely sorry.

“You’re so crass, Momo-chan,” he groused, attempting to reclaim some dignity.

“And you’re a clingy asshole,” she retorted, checking the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was earlier than expected—not outrageously so, but enough that it still felt like an ungodly hour for a Saturday morning. She debated whether to stay up or crawl back under the covers. It wasn’t much of a decision, really.

Saturdays were made for lazy mornings, and besides, her boyfriend (a term that still sent a small thrill through her chest) was right there, sitting in bed, and apparently wanting to snuggle.

Without a second thought, she slid back under the covers. She burrowed into the space beside him, pressing close enough to feel the chill of his body. A shiver ran down her spine as she settled in.

Okarun frowned. “Sorry. Am I too cold?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Ah, she hadn’t meant to make him self-conscious. “It’s fine! I’ll warm up in a bit.”

He gave her an unconvinced look, arching an eyebrow.

“...Okay, maybe a little bit,” she admitted with a sheepish laugh. “But I’ll warm up soon, I swear!”

He sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t even know why I woke up like this,” he muttered, arms looping around his knees.

She watched as he closed his eyes, drawing in deep, steady breaths. Automatically, her awareness shifted into her spiritual sense, watching as his aura (which had been a tangled, vibrant swirl of energy) began to contract inward. It seemed harder for him than it had been the previous day. His features tightened with the effort, and stray wisps of energy resisted, flickering stubbornly like dying flames.

When he opened his eyes again, his form was mostly human, though some of his hair still floated faintly as though caught in a breeze. A few glowing tendrils refused to fully dissipate.

“Um, that might be better?” he said hesitantly, casting her a tentative smile.

She bumped his shoulder, reaching for his arm and wrapping her hands around it. His body now radiated warmth, almost too hot against her skin.

“You didn’t have to change, but thanks,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

Tentatively, he wrapped an arm around her, his hand hovering for a moment before settling gently in her hair. When his claws began to scratch her scalp in light, rhythmic motions, a shiver of contentment ran through her. It was almost embarrassing how quickly the soothing sensation lulled her back to sleep.

When she woke again a short while later (at a far more reasonable time for a Saturday) Okarun’s hand had shifted, now resting gently on her side. His gaze was distant, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the middle distance.

“You could’ve gotten more sleep too, y’know,” she murmured through a yawn.

He jumped slightly at her voice, startled out of his thoughts. His free hand rose to rub the back of his neck, his ears faintly pink. “Probably not. I’ve been feeling kind of restless since we woke up.”

She frowned, her brow knitting in concern. “You could’ve gotten up. You didn’t have to stay in bed just because of me.”

He nuzzled into her hair. “I wanted to, though.”

There was a brief pause, a slight hesitation in the air, before he pressed a small, feather-light kiss to the top of her head.

“No!” she groaned, swatting him away with an exaggerated grimace. “My hair’s gross—ugh! Let me shower first, then you can be cute.”

She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know she was probably a mess. She hadn’t exactly been at her best the past few days. A shower was long overdue.

Okarun shifted upright, leaning back against the headboard. “Okay,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “If your grandmother’s not up yet, I could start breakfast. Might be nice to have something ready for you.”

She snorted, throwing the covers back as she swung her legs out of bed. “You can try, but she probably wouldn’t be happy with you.”

He reached over her for his glasses, spending a while adjusting them. “I just want to feel more useful,” he muttered under his breath, his tone quieter now.

Momo leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “If she gets pissed, I’ll take the fall. Deal?”

His faint smile widened at her words, and he gave a small, grateful nod.

The shower didn’t take long—she didn’t want to leave Okarun alone for too long in the kitchen. As she ran shampoo through her hair, she frowned at the nearly empty bottle. It didn’t look like Okarun had gotten round to adding any of his own toiletries to the bathroom yet, which was fine, but… Was he using mine? she thought. Her expensive shampoo was suspiciously low. Jerk.

Turning off the shower, she began to hear faint sounds of a commotion drifting up from downstairs. The voices were unmistakable—Okarun and Turbo Granny.

By the time she got dressed and made her way to the living room, she found the scene exactly as expected. Okarun stood at the stove, nudging something in a frying pan with a spatula. He was already dressed in his comfiest-looking clothes, a baggy set of cargo pants and an oversized hoodie. The baggy clothes might be him trying to play it safe, she mused, in case he transformed again.

Turbo Granny, meanwhile, was perched on his shoulder, clutching a fistful of his hair in one paw while gesturing dramatically toward the frying pan with the other.

“What the hell are you doing, you idiot? You need to roll it!” she barked, her shrill voice cutting through the room.

“I’m making it Western-style! It doesn’t get rolled!” Okarun shot back, his tone clipped with frustration.

“Well, I want mine rolled like a proper omelette!” she demanded, her claws twitching in irritation.

“Who said you’re even getting one?!” he countered.

“You ungrateful brat!”

“What are you—AGH!” Okarun yelped as Turbo Granny tugged sharply at his hair, her claws digging in with malicious glee.

Momo decided enough was enough. Crossing the room, she conjured spectral hands, plucking Turbo Granny off Okarun by the scruff of her neck and lifting her into the air.

“Hey! No being an asshole to Okarun today! He’s still recovering,” she scolded, holding the squirming yokai at arm’s length.

Turbo Granny flailed indignantly. “I’ll show you who’s an asshole! Put me down, you damn brat!”

Momo startled as swirling red energy burst from the maneki-neko, forcing her to drop the doll. Turbo Granny huffed, muttering something about “disrespectful kids” as she she dropped to the floor, toddling off toward the TV.

Okarun turned toward Momo, his face lighting up. “Momo! I hope you had a good shower,” he said brightly. His hair still carried an ember-like glow, faint sparks of energy flickering at the ends. His tail, which had been hanging low, perked up as soon as he saw her.

She felt a flush rise to her cheeks but tried to play it cool. “Looks like you’re making breakfast?” she asked, gesturing to the stove.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing back at the frying pan. “There were a lot of eggs about to expire, so I thought I’d make omelets. Western-style ones, if that’s okay?”

“That’s more than okay,” she replied, her stomach already growling.

“What do you want in yours? There’s some peppers and ham in the fridge.”

“Yes,” she said immediately, earning a chuckle from him.

She hopped up onto the counter, watching as he carefully sliced the peppers into neat strips. Her legs swung idly, her gaze lingering on the way his hands moved—steady and deliberate.

“You’re making me nervous, watching like that,” he said without looking at her.

“What? Am I not allowed to watch my cute boyfriend cook for me?”

His ears turned pink, and he fumbled slightly with the knife. “I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me today,” he grumbled.

“I said no one should be an asshole to you,” she corrected with mock innocence. “But teasing is completely different. Besides, Okarun,” she added, placing a hand over her heart, “have I ever, even once, been mean to you or teased you?”

He squinted at her, clearly unconvinced. “Is this a trick question?”

She gasped, feigning outrage. “Name a single time I’ve been mean to you!”

He adjusted his glasses, the glare from the kitchen light making his expression unreadable. “I’m choosing not to answer that.”

She pouted. “Now who’s being mean?” Stealing a glance to ensure Turbo Granny wasn’t watching, she leaned over and gave Okarun another quick peck on the cheek before heading off to set the table for breakfast.

Okarun soon followed, carrying a plate with a fluffy omelet that he placed in front of her, and another plate with a slightly misshapen rolled omelet for Turbo Granny, who was already seated at the table, arms crossed.

“Is Seiko-san awake yet?” he asked as he set down the plates.

“If she isn’t, she will be soon. I’m not waiting to eat.” She grinned as she got up and headed toward the stairs.

She knocked briskly on her granny’s bedroom door. “Wake up, hag! Okarun’s making breakfast!”

“The hell he will,” her granny grumbled from the other side, the door swinging open to reveal her fully dressed.

“Too late. It’s already done,” Momo said, smirking.

Her granny muttered something under her breath but followed her back downstairs, eyeing the table with suspicion. Okarun was there to meet them, holding the last two plates of omelets.

“Good morning, Seiko-san,” he greeted politely, though his nervousness showed in the slight tremor of his voice. “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast. Um, there’s ham and peppers—do you have a preference?”

Seiko scrutinized him for a long moment before sighing and grabbing the plate with peppers. She ruffled his still slightly wispy hair on her way to the table.

“Thanks, kid.”

Okarun smiled faintly, visibly relieved, and joined them, taking the final plate for himself.

The food was, as Momo had come to expect, delicious. She savored every bite. He hoped Okarun would be cooking her more breakfasts, going forwards.

The relative silence at the table was broken by Turbo Granny, who scowled at Okarun, her tiny eyes narrowed. “You’re leaking energy all over the damn place, brat,” she said. “Making it hard to enjoy my food.”

Okarun froze, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “S-Sorry,” he stammered. “I woke up transformed, and I couldn’t… really go all the way back to normal.”

“Get a better handle on yourself, shithead,” Turbo Granny snapped. “Feels like you’re trying to mark the damn place as your territory with you energy or something. It’s damn near everywhere.”

“I’ll get better,” Okarun squeaked, looking as though he wished the floor would swallow him whole.

Momo glared at Turbo Granny. “I said don’t be an asshole! Though…” She paused, closing her eyes and focusing. Now that it had been mentioned, she could sense what Turbo Granny meant. The whole house felt vaguely of Okarun.

Turbo Granny grinned, her expression smug. “Odd for you to have so much extra energy, though. Almost like you were shacked up nice and close with someone with high spiritual potential all night or something.”

“Or something,” Okarun mumbled, averting his gaze as his face flushed.

“Yokai get stronger by being around humans with strong spiritual potential,” Seiko interjected, her voice calm but pointed. “That’s why people like us—mediums, more or less—are at risk of being attacked. Spiritually sensitive folks are like fuel to them. With the two of us in the house, dog-boy over here is getting supercharged.”

She gave the pair a flat look, her tone growing more skeptical. “Though I wouldn’t have thought the effect would be so strong after just one night… considering you two should have been in different rooms.”

Momo felt her cheeks burn as her grandmother’s gaze bore into her, and she scrambled to steer the conversation away. “Is that… bad for him? If he, like, absorbs too much energy?”

“Nah,” Seiko said with a dismissive wave. “Most yokai would kill to have that kind of setup. He just needs to burn off the excess energy somehow. Go for a run or something.”

“Go curse some idiots,” Turbo Granny chimed in with a wicked grin. “That’s what I’d do.”

“Okarun can’t curse people, you hag,” Momo shot back. She turned to Okarun, curiosity in her eyes. “You can’t, right?”

“No!” he said quickly, his expression panicked. “At least… I’m pretty sure I can’t.”

Seiko rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Never heard of an okuri-ōkami cursing anyone. Plenty of stories about them eating folks, though—especially people who don’t show proper appreciation towards them.”

Momo turned to Okarun with mock solemnity, bowing her head deeply. “Thank you very much for breakfast, Okarun-san.”

“Stop it! I’m not going to eat anyone!” he protested, flustered.

Momo giggled but quickly shifted back to practicality. “But if getting out of the house would help, maybe we could swing by your apartment and grab your phone before everyone shows up? It’d probably be good for you to burn off some of that energy.”

Her granny cut in, her voice brisk. “If you’re taking dog-boy for a walk, grab groceries while you’re out. Takes a lot of food to feed your little crew.”

“I’m not a dog!” Okarun groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please don’t let this become a thing now. I haven’t even gotten you all to stop joking about my—ugh.”

“Sorry, Four-eyes,” Seiko said, her tone utterly unapologetic. “It’s a thing.”

Momo barely caught it, but Okarun muttered under his breath, “You said I was a wolf spirit…”

Raising his voice to a normal volume, he sighed and turned to Momo. “But yeah, that sounds good. It’d be nice to get my phone back at least.”

She smiled. “Great! Give me a bit to get ready after we finish breakfast, and we can head out.”

Okarun sat on the ground, staring into nothingness.

Seiko-san had kicked him out of the kitchen once again after he’d tried to wash dishes. Then Turbo Granny had proceeded to kick him out of the entire house, telling him to "sort his shit out and stop leaking energy everywhere."

So here he was, sitting outside with his back against the torii gate, waiting for Momo.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell he energy was spilling out of him—he could feel it. Despite his best efforts earlier, he hadn’t quite managed to keep his aura contained within his body. At least he now understood why he’d woken up feeling so restless. He hoped it wasn’t negatively affecting Momo. But he knew Seiko-san took Momo’s safety seriously and hadn’t raised any concerns, so it was probably fine. He hoped he got better control over it soon though. At the very least he didn’t want Momo waking up cold every morning because of him.

The thought of Momo, of waking up beside her regularly now that she was his girlfriend, sent a warm wave of contentment through him. Just thinking about it left him euphoric, like it was too good to be true. As he basked in the feeling, he noticed an odd sensation at his back and groaned. His tail was swishing back and forth again.

At least Momo wasn’t here to see it this time. He focused, willing the tail to still. Experimentally, he swished it back and forth on purpose, then reached back to run his fingers through the fur. The sensation was strange—there shouldn’t even be sensation past the base of his spine. Yet there it was.

It didn’t feel odd or out of place when he was in his yokai form, though he supposed that made sense, given that form was supposed to have a tail. But was it still accurate to think of it as his ‘yokai form’? Wasn’t that just him now? He felt like he still hadn’t really fully internalized the reality of being a yokai, not just borrowing the powers of one.

Though his stupid tail seemed determined to remind him. As did the women of the Ayase household.

Momo and the others had already made jokes about him being a yokai that morning. Surprisingly, he hadn’t minded. It made everything feel… more normal? He could tell Momo was trying to make him feel better, and appreciated the effort.

He could do without the dog jokes, though. He really hoped that wouldn’t become the next running joke.

Turbo Granny had called him an okuri-ōkami, a ‘sending-off wolf’. He wasn’t familiar with the term and, without his phone, had no easy way to look it up. Granny had said he was a protective spirit, though, so that sounded okay. Better than most of the yokai they’d encountered, at least. Still, it felt unfair to be a yokai with no clue what kind he was—or what powers he might have. He guessed all yokai had to figure things out for themselves at first.

Now that the initial shock had worn off, he could sense his own spiritual power more clearly. Granny had said she’d given him extra energy to help stabilize him. He could feel it—a fast, sharp part of his aura that wasn’t entirely his. He suspected he could still tap into her “go all-out” ability if needed. It didn’t feel like a small amount of power either, and without it, Momo probably wouldn’t have been able to tie him back to his body. He should thank Granny again later.

He kept fiddling with his tail, running his fingers through the fur. It was soft and fluffy, at least, and Momo didn’t seem too weirded out by it. That was something. He sighed, looking up at the sky. He’d hoped to tamp down his aura and get rid of the tail before everyone else showed up, but with all the excess energy, it seemed pointless to try.

Adjusting his glasses, he considered his options. Switching to his yokai form might help burn off the energy, but he worried it might unsettle Momo. Maybe he should ask her if she was okay with it? The effort of holding his aura in was starting to wear on him.

As he stared up at the sky, Momo’s face suddenly appeared, blocking his view. She was looking down at him, a playful grin on her lips. She was wearing an oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder, effortlessly stylish as always. He felt a pang of self-consciousness about his own outfit—more practical than fashionable. Maybe he could ask Momo to help him pick out better clothes someday, so he wouldn’t feel like such a mismatch when they were out together.

“You’re eager to go, dude,” she teased, grinning. “Why aren’t you Yokarun, though?

“Yokarun?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yokai Okarun,” she said, nodding. “You’re supposed to be burning off energy, aren’t you?”

He almost laughed. How did Momo always seem to know exactly what he was thinking?

Kicking off his slippers, he rolled up his pants and stood. “Stand back,” he said, motioning her to give him space. Closing his eyes, he stopped suppressing his aura. Power surged through him, washing over his body and banishing the uncomfortable tension that had been building all morning.

When he opened his eyes, Momo was grinning up at him now, rather than down. He glanced at himself quickly. His clothes had mostly survived the transformation, save for the hoodie sleeves now looking a bit short. He gave her a small smile.

“We good?” Momo spun in place, showing off the backpack she was carrying. “I grabbed your shoes from the front, in case you want to walk home normally.”

To be honest, he had sort of stopped caring what people thought about him running around barefoot as a matter of necessity, but it was nice of Momo to think of him.

“You’re a genius, Momo-chan,” he said, reaching for the bag.

“I know I am,” she said, holding it just out of reach. “But I was thinking—if you’re gonna be in yokai form anyway, and we’re heading all the way back to your apartment for your phone…maybe I could hitch a ride?”

She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes at him, as though he needed convincing.

“You now I’m always willing to give you a lift, Momo-chan” he said earnestly.

It seemed his still lacked a mental filter in this form, as before. He didn’t know if he could have been so honest otherwise. For some reason, it seemed to make her blush.

He knelt, going through the now-familiar motions of helping her climb onto his back, locking his arms securely under her legs.

Walking in his new form was… strange. As long as he wasn’t actively thinking about it, he could go from point A to point B with no issues, his body seemingly on autopilot despite the odd way his legs bent now. But the moment he focused on the positioning of his feet or how his tail counterbalanced him, he stumbled. At least Momo-chan had been kind enough not to complain when it happened.

After a few awkward moments, he managed to stop overthinking and settle into an easy walking pace.

Seiko might have been onto something when she suggested he go for a run. Now that he’d started jogging(keeping a steady, slow pace to avoid jostling Momo too much) he found himself wanting to go faster. His body seemed to crave it. More than that, his center of gravity felt like it wanted to shift downward, a nagging instinct pulling at him. They were still pretty far from the town, so he figured he might as well listen to whatever his instincts were trying to tell him.

“Momo-chan,” he called, breaking her out of her reverie. She hadn’t said much during their journey, apparently content to enjoy the ride. “Can you hold on a little tighter for a minute?”

“Uh, sure?” she replied, tightening her arms around his shoulders and squeezing her legs for extra security.

He carefully let go of her legs, leaning forward until she was sitting securely across his back instead of dangling. His tail shifted to help balance the change in weight as he lowered himself further, hands meeting the dirt path. With his balance steady, he tested the new position, first at a walk, then a faster jog.

“You okay back there?” he asked, glancing back to make sure she wasn’t slipping.

“All good!” she said, her voice bright with excitement.

Encouraged, he let himself go faster, and the world around them began to blur. Momo let out a delighted cheer as the rice paddies passed in a rush, her laughter ringing in his ears.

By the time they reached the edge of the town proper, he reluctantly slowed, pushing himself upright. He caught Momo’s weight with his arms to steady her as he stood fully.

“Aw,” she groaned. “Why’d you stop?”

“Figured I’d try to save some of our reputation in town,” he replied with a small laugh. “You know, not running in on all fours.”

“Boo!” she cried, swatting his shoulder playfully. “Screw what they think—that was awesome!”

He chuckled but kept his upright stance. He didn’t want to become that guy—the weirdo who ran around town on all fours with a girl on his back. It was bad enough to be constantly seen giving piggyback rides.

He tried not to think about the fact that he basically was that guy.

He scrunched up his nose as they entered the denser parts of the city, suddenly overwhelmed by a chaotic blend of car exhaust, garbage, and the general press of humanity. Being a wolf yokai must come with an enhanced sense of smell, he thought idly, wincing as the scents clashed uncomfortably in his nostrils.

He had started to suspect this heightened sensitivity earlier, back when they had been running through the fields surrounding the city. The earthy, slightly sweet aroma of the rice paddies had seemed unusually vivid to him. He hadn’t noticed it at all while at the temple, though, too accustomed to the scent of Momo-chan’s shampoo and the ever-present mix of wood and incense that infused her home.

Experimenting, he shifted Momo-chan’s weight so she was supported by one arm, freeing his other hand to adjust his glasses. As usual, the moment he slid them up his nose, the world dissolved into a messy blur of colors and indistinct shapes. He sighed, pressing the glasses firmly back into place.

It seemed unfair. Sure, he had better hearing and smell, but he was still practically blind without his glasses. Aren’t wolves supposed to have sharp eyesight too? he thought.

Momo stirred against his shoulder, making a questioning noise as she noticed his movements. “It’s nothing,” he said, waving her off with his free hand before returning it to her back.

Jogging through the streets, he caught a few curious glances and amused coos from passersby. It wasn’t unusual though. They were used to drawing attention whenever he gave Momo a ride like this.

Thankfully, the apartment wasn’t far. In a few minutes, they were standing outside the door.

It was unlocked, just as he’d left it. He was relieved to see everything untouched. His phone, unfortunately, was completely dead.

Standing in his room, he stared at the rumpled covers for a moment. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d been lying there, waiting for Momo to pick up his call. Shaking off the memory, he stuffed the dead phone into his school bag and wandered into the living area, where Momo was inspecting the small kitchen.

“Phone acquired,” he said, startling her slightly. She jumped and turned to face him, a guilty smile on her lips. “Have fun snooping?”

“Caught me in the act,” she admitted, gesturing toward the calendar on the fridge. Her finger rested on two circled dates, both crossed out. “Can I ask what these are for?”

If he wasn’t ‘Yokarun’ right now, as Momo-chan put it, he probably would’ve deflected.

“Dates my parents said they’d be back in Japan,” he said, voice even. “Before they canceled at the last minute.”

“That’s…” She hesitated, her expression softening. “That’s a shame. And a dick move.”

Her sympathy tugged at something inside him, and he shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. “I didn’t really believe them anyway. They said the same thing a few times last year.” He left out how many times—it wasn’t worth making her sadder than she already looked.

“Hmm,” she mused. “I’m guessing you’re still a little too honest in yokai form, huh?”

He smiled faintly. “It’s not something I want to hide from you, anyway.”

For a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, without warning, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?” he asked, hesitantly returning the embrace.

“I dunno,” she murmured into his neck, voice muffled. “Because you have shitty parents or something.”

He huffed a soft laugh, tightening his arms around her.

“C’mon,” he said after a moment, pulling back. “Let’s go. It’s depressing here.”

They wandered leisurely toward the supermarket after leaving the apartment complex, in no particular hurry. Momo-chan chatted animatedly about the newest issue of Super Mystery Magazine MU. Though he hadn’t been awake to buy the latest issue himself, he wondered where she had gotten it from.

“Hey!” she said suddenly, tugging on his sleeve and pointing across the street. “Look at that asshole. He’s totally annoying that poor girl.”

Across the street, a young woman dressed as a maid stood holding a sign directing patrons to a nearby café. He knew Momo sometimes had to do the same thing while she worked.

An older man, dressed in a suit that looked like it had been slept in, leaned against a nearby wall. When there weren’t any other pedestrians around, he muttered something to the maid, making her shoulders hunch as she tried to ignore him.

Straining his ears, he just barely caught the man’s words above the ambient city noise. His stomach tightened with disgust. He hoped Momo-chan couldn’t hear it.

Anger surged through him, hot and immediate. He felt compelled to step in, to drive the man away from the maid. Before he realized it, he’d taken a step toward them.

“Yeah, Okarun, go curse him!” Momo-chan said, her teasing tone breaking through his focus.

He blinked, thrown off. “I’m pretty sure I can’t curse people, Momo-chan,” he replied flatly.

“Well, have you tried?” she countered, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

He gave her a blank look but kept one eye on the pair across the street. The man was waiting for the moment the pavement cleared again.

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “If you won’t, I’ll curse him.”

Sticking her tongue out slightly, she concentrated, extending her telekinetic hands toward the man. Just as he uttered another vile remark, she yanked his trousers down and gave him a push, sending him sprawling face-first onto the pavement. The maid burst into laughter, and the man scrambled to his feet, fleeing out of sight.

Watching the man’s humiliation, the hot anger that had been bubbling inside him faded, satisfied.

Momo stood triumphantly with her hands on her hips.

“I dunno if that’s a curse, Momo-chan,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“It is!” she declared, puffing out her chest. “I cursed him with bad luck!”

“Hmm, hope you don’t curse me with bad luck,” he teased, giving her a mock wary glance.

“Better not do anything to piss me off then,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue mischievously.

He gave her a lazy salute, only for her to bump her shoulder into him. The attempt to ruffle him didn’t work, and he snickered as she bounced off without moving him an inch. She blushed, trying to mask her embarrassment, and grabbed his arm to drag him toward the supermarket.

As they approached the entrance, he forced his aura back down, returning to his human form and gratefully taking the shoes Momo had stashed in her backpack. He didn’t want to risk being kicked out for being barefoot after all. At least his time spent in yokai form had burned off some of his excess energy, allowing him to maintain his human appearance—except for the tail. That, apparently, was here to stay until he got better control over his powers.

Inside, the supermarket bombarded him with a new wave of smells. Thankfully, these were mostly pleasant, dominated by the aroma of fresh bread from the in-store bakery.

A few people glanced at them as they wandered the aisles, but the looks were more “White hair is kinda unusual” than “Oh god, a demon, run for your lives.”

Momo-chan didn’t rush him this time. He suspected she was still being extra nice to him after everything. Judging by the amount of meat on the list, it looked like Seiko was planning a barbecue or something similar.

At one point, Momo-chan disappeared while he wasn’t paying attention. A pang of panic crept in as he searched the nearby aisles, only for her to reappear suddenly, acting nonchalant. Did she sneak off to buy something? He couldn’t be sure, but the worry quickly faded.

Something strange happened a few minutes later. As he rummaged through a fridge for better cuts of meat, his senses screamed at him. He turned sharply, rushing forward just in time to catch a case of glass coffee bottles that an elderly man had accidentally pulled down while trying to reach them.

His arms strained under the weight as he steadied the case and pushed it back onto the shelf. Grabbing one of the bottles, he passed it down to the man, who thanked him and shuffled off, seemingly unaware of the near-disaster.

Momo-chan gawked at him, her mouth hanging open.

“Dude, that was amazing! How did you know to turn around?”

He shrugged, unable to answer. He hadn’t even realized the old man was there before he moved. He was starting to think that being a protective spirit yokai came with more than just a tail and a heightened sense of smell.

When they left the shop, they fell into their usual charade of who should carry the shopping bags. He ended the argument quickly by kicking off his shoes, transforming, and effortlessly picking up all the bags.

Momo-chan huffed but turned and walked ahead, clearly annoyed at losing the debate, but not offering any further resistance. She was definitely still being overtly nice to him.

They walked and chatted easily until they reached the rice paddies on the outskirts of the city. The shift in scenery brought his senses relief, the air growing fresher with every step. Glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, Momo-chan turned to him with an exaggerated pleading look, batting her eyelashes one more.

He did want to run again. It had felt exhilarating. But he also wanted to mess with her a little, for making him panic by disappearing earlier.

“Something in your eye, Momo-chan?” he drawled, feigning innocence.

“Dude, c’mon! You know what I want here,” she shot back, voice exasperated.

“I can’t carry you,” he replied, lifting the shopping bags for emphasis. “I’m carrying all this.”

“You could just grab them with your mouth again, like last time,” she said brightly, clearly undeterred.

“Don’t wanna,” he said, looking down at her with a deadpan expression.

He could see her resolve cracking. “Please, Okarun,” she whined, shaking his arm.

When he didn’t respond, she tried another tactic. “Please, Ken?” she said softly, her tone taking on an unusual sweetness.

“No can do, Ayase-san,” he retorted, smirking.

She pouted, but then a mischievous glint lit her eyes. Without warning, she tugged on his arm, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek before backing up with a triumphant grin, batting her eyelashes again for good measure.

Hmm, maybe he should hold out against her requests more often.

With an exaggerated sigh, as if utterly exhausted, he finally caved. Dropping the bags in front of him, he shifted his stance, lowering himself onto all fours. Momo-chan scrambled onto his back with ease.

He summoned his large jaw, awkwardly hanging the bags on his jagged teeth. The last few floated upward, suspended by Momo-chan’s telekinesis.

“Hang on, I’ll take a few at least,” she said, leaning forward to grab them.

Still feeling a little petty, he waited only until she had a firm grip before bolting forward, running as fast as he dared without risking her falling off. The air whipped past him, the world blurring at the edges as Momo-chan’s delighted laughter rang out above him.

It was over far too quickly. The torii gate came into view, the familiar silhouette of the house standing just beyond.

As they strolled through the gate, he spotted Seiko sitting in the doorway of the house, casually puffing on a cigarette. Her sharp eyes locked onto them, and she snorted with amusement.

t was too late to back up and pretend Momo-chan hadn’t been riding on his back.

He lowered himself so she could hop off, then grabbed the bags with his hands, rising to his feet as he avoided Seiko’s gaze. Despite the usual yokai chill, his face felt uncomfortably warm.

“You want me to stop calling you dog-boy, but you come back from town like that, kid?” Seiko said, exhaling a lazy puff of smoke.

“Shut it, hag,” Momo grumbled on his behalf. “We got your damn shopping. Be grateful.”

“I’ll be grateful as long as it’s not coated in slobber,” Seiko quipped, her tone light and airy.

Okarun could feel his ears burning now, too.

Turbo Granny popped out from behind Seiko before they could enter the house proper, demanding that he stop leaking aura everywhere before he was allowed back in.

He wasn’t sure if it was due to practice or the excess energy he had managed to shed, but compressing his aura into his body felt far easier this time. Concentrating, he pushed the energy inward until it settled. Well, most of it. The tail remained stubbornly in place, refusing to dissipate no matter how hard he tried. After a moment, he gave up and looked back at Granny, hoping for a reprieve.

Her narrowed eyes lingered on him, but after a tense moment, she clicked her tongue and turned on her heel, heading back inside without another word.

“It’ll be a few hours until the gang shows up,” Momo said as they unpacked the groceries in the kitchen. “We could hang out in my room, or I can give you some alone time if you’d rather?”

The thought of being alone didn’t sit well with him, though he had enough tact in this form not to admit that outright.

“No!” he blurted out, far too quickly. Clearing his throat, he added, “We can hang out. I’d like that.”

Moments later, they were back in her room, a familiar and increasingly comfortable place for him now. He settled into his usual spot at the head of the bed.

Momo wasted no time invading his personal space, sliding right up against him with a casual ease that made his heart race. He could feel his tail threatening to wag, but he clamped down on it before it could give away how happy he was just to be near her. He didn’t want to embarrass himself anymore than he already had.

To distract himself, he plugged in his phone, waiting impatiently for it to power on. As soon as it did, he opened the group chat and began typing a reply, claws making the task frustratingly slow. He really needed to ask Momo how girls with long nails managed to type so fast.

‘Sorry! I only just got my phone back. Thanks for your concern, everyone!’

As he hit send, he scrolled through the chat history. The kind words and worried messages from their friends touched him once more. He paused on the photo Momo had taken of him when he’d first woken up. The image was grainy, thanks to his phone’s low quality, but he saved it anyway.

“Here,” Momo said, pulling him from his thoughts as she passed him a magazine—the latest issue of Super Mystery Magazine MU.

“Vamola and Sakata dropped this off,” she explained. “I hope you don’t mind I read it first.”

He shook his head. “Of course not.” Honestly, he was glad she’d taken an interest in the occult. It was something they could share, like how he’d started diving into local ghost legends since meeting her.

As he flipped through the pages, Momo settled beside him, apparently content to listen as he read aloud. She didn’t grab anything to read herself, instead laughing softly at his excited commentary.

Leaning toward her, he pointed out an article on UAP sightings in America, enthusiastically comparing the similarities between two recent reports.

Momo laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “Have you seen the one on page 30 yet?”

His tail betrayed him again, wagging uncontrollably behind him, but he didn’t care.

Momo felt like she could have spent the entire weekend listening to Okarun ramble about aliens. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she found herself leaning closer as he animatedly pointed out connections she had missed while reading. But just as she was getting comfortable, the sound of the doorbell broke through their bubble.

She blinked, realizing she’d completely lost track of time.

“They’re here,” she said, hopping off the bed.

When they opened the door, all four of their friends stood outside, arms loaded with snacks. It looked like they’d met up in town first before heading over.

Jiji wasted no time, breezing past Momo and throwing an arm around Okarun’s shoulders, his face set in an exaggerated pout. “Okarun, we missed you and Momo! I’m glad you’re up!” He reached up to ruffle Okarun’s hair, ignoring the other boy’s flustered protests. “And dang, man, you’re looking cool as heck now.”

Okarun ducked away, muttering something unintelligible as he tried to fix his hair.

Aira and Sakata, at least, were more polite. They bowed slightly and offered the standard greetings as they stepped inside. Vamola mimicked their movements but hesitated before crossing the threshold.

“Thank you for having me!” she said, her voice bright and only faintly accented.

Sakata nodded approvingly from his spot beside Aira. Dang, she thought. He was making good progress with her Japanese!

As soon as they were all inside, Sakata and Aira gravitated toward Okarun, echoing Jiji’s sentiments with their own warm words. Okarun shifted uncomfortably under the attention but managed a small smile in return.

Meanwhile, Vamola hung back, bent nearly 90 degrees as she peered around him with a scrutinizing expression. Her brow furrowed in thought before she suddenly straightened, slamming a fist into her palm as if solving a great mystery.

“Dog!” she declared excitedly, pointing directly at his tail.

Momo couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her, especially at the look of utter despair that crossed Okarun’s face.

The room erupted into chaos as everyone else noticed his newest feature.

“Fluffy!”

“Okarun, man, you’ve been holding out on us!”

“I didn’t realize you were into that particular subculture, private first class Takakura…”

“Aw, that’s kinda cute, Takakura-san.”

Okarun’s face turned a vivid shade of red, made even more striking by how pale he was now.

“Hey, hey, back off!” she said, stepping in front of him and hauling him behind her with one swift motion. “We’ll go through everything later. Give him some space!”

Before the others could protest, Granny’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Oi! You brats can eat before your little catch-up. Head outside. Food will be out soon.”

That was all the incentive they needed. The gang began shuffling toward the yard, snacks in hand.

The early evening was warm, and with too many of them to cram into the sitting room to eat, Granny had set up a camping table in the yard. Several portable barbecue grills were set out, surrounded by plates of neatly arranged meat and veggies. Most of the group chatted among themselves as Granny bustled about, putting the finishing touches on the setup. Okarun had managed to convince her to let him help, ferrying drinks and plates to and from the kitchen.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly—until it wasn’t.

She saw it happen, almost in slow motion. Turbo Granny was attempting to fight through Aira for a piece of wagyu beef ahead of everyone else. As Aira attempted to fend of porcelain claws, she backtracked, directly into Vamola.

Vamola, who was innocently sipping an iced tea.
Vamola, who had been listening to an animated Jiji.
Vamola, who was now falling forwards, drink flying out of her hands and directly into Jiji’s face.

or a moment, it looked like Jiji might keep himself in check. He stood stock-still, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as if willing the Evil Eye back into submission. The dark energy even began to recede, flickering like a flame about to go out.

But then he lost whatever internal battle he was fighting.

Evil Eye erupted outward in a surge of black and purple energy, crackling like a storm.

She realized with a jolt of panic that she was directly in Evil Eye’s path—Okarun having been setting out drinks behind her. Desperately, she tried to raise a shield with her powers, though she wasn’t sure it would be strong enough to stop him.

She needn’t have worried.

In one swift, fluid motion, Okarun swept her out of the way, transforming as he moved to meet Evil Eye head-on. Their hands locked, the air around them vibrating with the force of their clash.

A deep, guttural growl filled the space, reverberating through her chest. It took her a moment to realize the sound was coming from Okarun. His wild mane of hair and tail flared like an animal’s raised hackles, and the cursed markings on his face glowed an angry red, radiating spiritual power. His intensity was unsettling. To top it off, he didn’t seem to be trying too hard to defuse the situation.

It looked like it was up to her.

“Hey! Hey!” she called, waving her arms to catch Evil Eye’s attention. She noticed Okarun’s sharp gaze flick to her from the corner of his eye, his growl softening slightly.

“It’s not Tuesday yet!” she reminded him. “You can’t fight today.”

“But Takakura feels different!” Evil Eye protested, his tone almost desperate. “He feels stronger! His energy’s all over the place—I have to fight him!”

Okarun, finally catching on, spoke up. “If you break our deal, I won’t fight you at all. Is that what you want?” he ground out.

Evil Eye froze, his expression shifting to panic. “Fine!” he snapped, releasing Okarun’s hands and sulking like a child denied candy.

“But we’re gonna have the best fight yet on Tuesday,” he declared, his grin turning manic. “I can’t wait to murder yah!”

Okarun snorted, lowering his hands. His tone was dry as he replied, “Sorry. Someone already beat you to it.”

Why would he say it like that!?

“What?!” Evil Eye bellowed, his energy flaring again. “Who are they?! No one’s allowed to murder you but—”

He was cut off as Granny dumped a thermos of hot tea on him, returning a slightly stunned looking Jiji. He reached into a pocket, wiping his face with a handkerchief he produced.

“Thanks, Seiko-chan, Okarun!” he called cheerfully.

But Momo had bigger concerns. She turned to Okarun, shooting him her best what the hell, dude?! glare. Did he seriously think that was a tactful way to drop such a sensitive bombshell?

If they were lucky, maybe no one would notice. Maybe they’d assume it was a joke—

“Takakura-san!” The skank’s sharp voice cut through the awkward silence as she marched toward him. “What the hell do you mean by that?!”

So much for luck.

Okarun, at least, had the decency to look sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. “S’fine,” he said quickly, attempting to downplay the situation. “Momo-chan fixed it.”

She groaned internally. That was not better.

“What do you mean, ‘Momo fixed it’? And why do you look different?!” Aira demanded, her voice rising.

Momo stepped between them. “Look, we’ll explain everything, okay? It’s just… a lot.”

Aira’s eyes narrowed. “Is there anything you want to say first, Takakura-san?”

Okarun hesitated, glancing at Jiji. His frown deepened, and Momo’s stomach twisted with unease. Whatever he was about to say, it couldn’t be good.

“Yeah, actually,” he began, and before she could react, he scooped her into his arms, holding her in a bridal carry.

“Momo-chan and I are going out now,” he announced loudly, looking directly at Jiji. To make matters worse, he punctuated the declaration by planting a kiss on the top of her head.

In full view of everyone.

Her cheeks burned as mortification set in. They hadn’t even told Granny about their relationship yet. They hadn’t even explained what had happened to everyone yet!

She wanted to scream.

Ah. I might have fucked up, Okarun thought.

Almost certainly fucked up, judging by the death stare Momo-chan was giving him from her place in his arms. She squirmed free, nearly losing her balance and landing on her backside. He instinctively reached out to steady her, only to regret it when she grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie with her powers.

She hauled him up into the air, his feet barely grazing the ground, as she jabbed an accusatory finger in his face.

“Okarun, what the hell?!” she demanded. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He froze, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t make things worse. Admitting that he was been petty about Jiji’s earlier carelessness (aided, perhaps, by some small amount of lingering jealousy) didn’t seem like the wisest move right now.

“I was excited to tell everyone,” he finally managed.

Her glare softened—just a little—but she still looked pissed.

“So, you are going out now?” Aira asked, strolling up to them with a curious expression.

“Yes.” Momo ground out, still glaring at him.

“Hmph, well.” She looked away, trying to look nonchalant. “Took you long enough”

“What the hell do you mean by that, Skank?!” Momo snapped, rounding on her.

Okarun’s eyes darted to Jiji, who had briefly looked shocked before a wide grin spread across his face.

“Congrats, you two!” Jiji said, still dabbing tea off his shirt. “You make the cuuuutest couple!”

Guilt twisted in Okarun’s chest. He felt bad about his pettiness after Jiji’s earnest reaction.

Sakata sighed dramatically. “Another good man lost to us.”

Vamola, on the other hand, looked positively giddy. “Momo and Takakura—marriage?” she asked, practically bouncing.

“What?! No!” Momo yelped, flailing her arms. “What the hell have you been teaching her, Sakata?!”

Okarun decided he should probably try to avoid blurting anything else out. He began reining in his aura to shift back into his human form. The change made him smaller, but he remained suspended in midair, still dangling from Momo’s power.

He really hoped she wouldn’t just drop him.

Momo was now fully engaged in bickering with Aira and Vamola. Jiji flashed him an encouraging thumbs-up, while Sakata offered a far more pitying look.

Meanwhile, Seiko and Turbo Granny were having a conversation off to the side that made his stomach drop.

“Alright, kitty cat, pay up,” Seiko said, setting down the last plate of meats she’d been holding.

“This doesn’t count,” Turbo Granny shot back. “His little stunt sped things up too much.”

Momo whirled around, eyes blazing. “And what the hell are you two talking about?”

Turbo Granny pointed casually toward Okarun. “I bet the nerd would wait to get his balls back before making a move.”

“And I bet he’d grow a spine before that,” Seiko added nonchalantly.

Okarun groaned internally. He really wished everyone would stop making jokes about his junk.

Momo’s attention shifted entirely to arguing with the grannies, leaving Okarun hanging—literally. She seemed to have completely forgotten about him.

The rest of the group didn’t seem inclined to help. Instead, they were busy loading up their plates with the best cuts of meat while the Ayase household devolved into chaos.

“Momooo,” he called out. It came out far more pitiful than he intended.

She finally turned around, freezing as she realised he was still hanging in the air, now in human form. He could see she tried to cover up the guilty expression that crossed her face with bluster.

“Don’t go off saying shit like that again” she stammered as she gently let him down.

Throughout dinner she deposited some of the nicer cuts of meat, and favored vegetables, onto his plate though.

After the meal, they streamed inside, gathering around the small table. Seiko-san and Turbo Granny sat off to the side, watching but not interfering directly.

Okarun wasn’t particularly looking forward to this. After everything they’d been through, everyone deserved to know the truth—but that didn’t make it any easier to share.

It was Aira who broke the heavy silence. “Right, Momo. You’ve been evasive. Time to tell us what happened.”

Her tone made him bristle. He opened his mouth to defend Momo, but she waved him down with a small shake of her head.

“Sorry,” Momo began, her voice quiet. “It’s just a lot. Not something to talk about over a group chat.”

She started recounting the events once again. Her tone was subdued, and though she spoke with steady determination, Okarun could tell it was wearing on her. When she got to the part where he had used his third all-out, her voice faltered, and her eyes began to glisten. He could step in to save her from having to talk about this part, at least.

“I died,” he said simply. The words were getting easier to say now, though they still left an uncomfortable weight in the air.

Aira’s head snapped up, her expression horrified. “What do you mean you died?!”

Before the questions could spiral, he pushed forward. “Because of what was happening to my aura, I guess… I, um, became a yokai? I don’t remember much of it, but I managed to defeat the alien.”

He hesitated before adding, “Sorry. The details are kind of blurry for me.”

“Momo managed to do something similar to what she did for you, Shiratori-san,” he continued. “With help from Turbo Granny and Seiko-san, she… she brought me back, I guess.”

“That’s not similar at all!” Aira exclaimed, horrified. “What do you mean you became a yokai? How did—”

Seiko cut her off, her voice sharp and no-nonsense. “He became a yokai, but his body wasn’t fully dead yet. Momo kept him alive long enough to bind his spirit back to it. He’s a yokai now, but he’s still got a living body. Don’t think about it too much. He’ll still be able to live normally enough.”

The table fell into an uneasy silence.

Jiji broke it first, speaking softly. “Is that why you look different? Is that what you look like as a yokai?”

Okarun nodded, looking away. “Turbo Granny said I’m a protective wolf spirit, or something like that.”

“Oh!” he added quickly. “Turbo Granny got her power back, too. It returned to her when I… well, when it happened. But I can still fight—I have my own spiritual power now.”

“We don’t care about that, man,” Jiji said earnestly. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Sort of? I’m sorry we weren’t there for you!”

“No, please don’t worry about it,” Okarun insisted, waving his hands. “It all happened so fast. I’m just glad I was able to make it to Momo in time.”

Aira frowned, her tone turning serious. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me or Takakura-san, Momo.”

“You’re right,” Momo said quietly, her voice flat. “You’re right, it’s my fault. I accept that.” Tears spilled over her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Without a word, Okarun pulled her into a hug.

He shot a harsh look at Aira, who flinched and looked away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “That was too harsh.”

“No,” Momo murmured into his shoulder. “I needed to hear it. We need to be more careful from now on.”

She pulled back, wiping at her face with her sleeve. “There might be more out there. It might not just be me.”

“Well,” Aira said after a pause, still avoiding eye contact. “Planning ahead can wait for today, at least. We should celebrate that you… both made it out okay.”

Sakata leaned over, placing a firm hand on Okarun’s shoulder. “This is just your power-up arc, Private First Class. These trials will make you stronger for the battles ahead.”

Okarun wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but the sentiment seemed kind.

Vamola, still looking concerned, tilted her head. “Momo and Takakura, okay?” she asked, her hand raised slightly.

Okarun smiled reassuringly. “We’re okay, Vamola. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

They had put on a random action movie, though no one was paying much attention to it. Open snack bags and half-empty cans of soda were scattered around, while a somewhat uneasy conversation bubbled up. The topic drifted between what they’d missed at school and a minor yokai incident. Apparently, Shiratori-san had managed to handle it entirely by herself. He was glad no-one was hurt.

“Just a little imp-thing,” she said, sounding almost bored as she recounted the encounter. “I knocked it out with one shot.”

As Momo wandered off to grab another drink from the kitchen, Shiratori-san turned to him with a curious look.

“So, Takakura-san, is the tail because of…?” she trailed off, struggling to find the right words to finish her question.

“Yes, I guess,” he replied, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I can’t seem to suppress it like the rest of my yokai form. I’ve tried, but it won’t budge. At least no one can see it—it’s made of my spiritual energy.”

Aira visibly relaxed. “Oh, that’s a relief. I thought you’d have to explain it at school or something.” She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Can I touch it? It looks really soft…”

“Like hell you can, skank!” Momo’s voice rang out, sharp and sudden. Before he could even process it, she practically dove in front of him, shielding him like her life depended on it. “Get the hell away from my boyfriend!”

“Jeez, I get it!” Shiratori-san pouted, crossing her arms. “I just wanted to see how soft it was, that’s all.”

“Momo! What are you doing?” he asked, flustered.

She ignored him entirely, her glare still fixed on Shiratori-san.

“Well, too bad,” Momo said defiantly, reaching over and running her fingers through the fur of his tail with smug satisfaction. “Get your own boyfriend with a tail.”

The way she said it made his stomach do and odd flip, and the warmth of her touch sent his tail wagging uncontrollably, betraying his emotions.

He tried to suppress it, forcing himself to stay calm, but his tail stubbornly kept wagging. Eventually, the teasing subsided, and the group’s attention shifted to other topics.

The chatter eventually died down, but no one seemed eager to leave just yet. Momo began rummaging through the cabinet under the TV before pulling out a cheesy horror movie with a grin.

“This one’s so bad it’s good,” she declared, holding it up for everyone to see.

As the movie started, they bundled up in the assortment of blankets Seiko-san had mysteriously produced. Somehow, everyone ended up huddled closer than a group of teenagers normally would. Momo grabbed the biggest blanket she could find and wrapped it snugly around the both of them.

The movie turned out to be surprisingly engaging—at least for Okarun. The main villain was based on an alien, and its design was impressively well done for such a low-budget production. He found himself fully immersed, engrossed in the action.

That was, until a sudden jump-scare jolted him. He sprang up instinctively, his body shifting into his yokai form. The blanket fell to the floor as spectral flames flickered to life around him.

For a moment, there was silence. Everyone turned to look at him, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his ears drooping in embarrassment. “I’ll… I’ll try to turn back.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated, but his aura refused to cooperate. He glanced helplessly at Momo, silently pleading for assistance.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back, giving him a reassuring smile.

The others quickly averted their attention, though Sakata kept sneaking not-so-subtle glances at him.

He didn’t know why he was so nervous, they had spent long enough dealing with him in his Turbo Granny form, the past few months.

With a sigh, he sat back down and reached for the discarded blanket. Wrapping it around both Momo-chan to make sure she kept warm. He pulled her closer, settling her comfortably between his legs. He hesitated for a moment before resting his chin lightly on her head.

The spectral flames bathed the room in a soft, flickering glow, but the brightness of the TV easily overpowered it.

One movie turned into two, then three. Before long, the moon was high in the sky. One by one, they began nodding off, until the entire group was bundled up together in a pile of blankets, fast asleep.