Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"When you arrive in that spot of town, you'll know.” Momo stares for a moment, uncertain of the tone. She's seen her fair share of haunted villages and abandoned shops with enough spiritual activity to light up an entire city.

So, it's not unlike her to experience this now. The older man leans in then, taking note of her appearance, and his eyes squint at her.

"The spirits dance in the twilight," he claims. "I see them, out there in that place by the tunnel."

Momo turns out towards the cliffside. In the rubble that amassed over the village covering everything, she can spot no homes. When she was doing her research to see what it all looked like before, she saw the town intact. Now, none of it is the same.

That storm swept everything away, leaving behind the shell of what once was.

"Do you know what spirits are here, sir?" she asks. She bites her lip in thought, still a wonder that her granny trusted her enough to go off on her own for this. She said it would be good training, in preparation of doing this all on her own one day.

Momo has her own doubts. Sometimes, she doesn't think she can.

The older man stands beside her, crouched low using his walking stick. "Yokai," he rumbles. "I've seen many of 'em, such energy that even the divine can't seem to touch."

Momo turns to him, a grin forming on her face. "Good, I'm here to help them pass on."

Clink.

One.

Clink.

Two.

Clink.

Three.

Momo sighs, letting her bat rest against her shoulders after the third hit on an empty can. The heat from the afternoon sky is still settling well onto her back. “This sucks,” she mutters to herself. 

No one around, just a vast wasteland of junk and debris everywhere for her to strike out at. Being left like this to her own devices with a weapon in her grip was probably not the wisest idea her granny ever had. 

“You hear that?” she says to herself, “I’m bored and I’m hungry.” She's not really talking to anyone, but she hopes her grandmother can hear her complaining out in Kamigoe City.

There’s a sound beside her and she lifts her weapon at the ready only to see a small rat coming from underneath the pile.

Everything is left as a carcass, piles and piles of nothing. Just an emptiness that Momo feels heavy in her own chest. She watches the tiny creature sniff around, its small body maneuvering around the obstacles only to disappear into another bundle of shit. 

She hums to herself, scratching her head. She’s left alone again with nothing but Nessie.

Momo continues walking, passing through the empty streets. This town has been left vacant out near the forests in the forgotten parts of Shono City. A town long gone, but with memories here she knows have pain etched in. There's something alive here and she can feel it pulse deep from the earth.

The old man mentioned something about yokai, about an old crone wreaking havoc throughout their valley.

Some of the mediums she knew from her grandmother had been dispatched here many times, searching for the elusive spirits to be caught with talks of exorcisms to carry their plight through the afterlife rather than torment the living. 

It's her first time alone on a job like this. But she can see well enough to know that moving through this town there are still buildings left upright, untouched and solid. Now empty with the expanse of time lost before them.

Some mediums had left scathed and burdened, swearing off their life’s work to ever set foot in this town again, or so she had heard from the old man.

Momo shakes her head. The only time she’s seen something that intense was maybe from the stories her grandmother told. 

One of the villagers whom she suspected was from this town in Shono City had called the Ayase’s early in the morning before all of this started. The phone rang right when Momo had her rice near her mouth. 

The ringing resounded in the Ayase home, piercing her ears, but she chose to ignore it. Her thoughts were preoccupied with the meal in front of her.

“Momo, go get that,” Seiko told her. Momo groaned, getting up from her spot from the table. 

“Alright, alright,” she muttered. She approached the white landline, putting the receiver to her ear. “Ayase Residence.” 

The sounds were eerie, a moment of silence, another breath. “Is Santa Dodoria present?” the voice asked. 

Momo grimaced, a chill climbing up her spine. “Um, yes, how can we assist?” 

Ew, she thought. This person sounded a mess. There’s an odd overlapping of noise in the receiver, a heavy breath comes. 

The voice distorted for a moment, morphed into something sticky and wet. “Please help, there’s something here in this place. It follows me.” 

Momo shivered. “We can help,” she used her shoulder to press the phone to her ear, the strange breathing still there. She pulled out a writing pad and pen from the drawer. “We just need some information.” 

“Santa Dodoria will know,” the person said. Their voice dripped like sludge from the receiver. “Santa Dodoria will come find us, little girl,” the person said. Their voice twisted into a discordant cacophony sharpened like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. 

Momo swallowed, her stomach dropping. All appetite for her grandmother’s long awaited breakfast disappeared. During times like this, her grandmother had always made it clear to never fall into the trap of spirits. 

They will taunt, they will lure, and they will play games. The key is to not fall for their farce. 

Momo, in the most controlled voice she can manage, responded calmly, steeling herself. “We can assist if you give us your location.” 

The voice crackled over the phone, a sharp sound that caused her to grit her teeth. It’s pitched in a way that made her move the phone away from her ear. 

“Girl,” the person grounded out. “The abandoned village in Shono City, near the tunnels, come there.” 

Momo’s expression shifted. “When?” 

“The sooner, the better,” the voice said. “Come when the sun is low after the morning in three days.” 

Momo rolled her eyes, whoever this is is not serious. “That makes no sense.” 

“Girl,” it said. It, she thinks. It’s an entity, it must be. A spiritual one that can move through technology. Her grandmother had told her this too. “The abandoned village, come in three days time.” 

The phone disconnected, leaving her alone with the dial.

“Granny,” Momo called out. 

Her grandmother stands, she can hear her footsteps. Momo looked down at the writing pad, not remembering what she wrote. The scribbles are indecipherable, a tangle of disconnected thoughts. 

All she can make out is “tunnel” “Shono City” “village”. 

“Momo, what –” she stopped short. 

She looked up at her grandmother, feeling something on her face. 

“Momo,” her grandmother began, looking at the pad of paper and back to her. “What happened? You’re bleeding.” 

She is? Momo went to wipe her nose, when she pulled her finger away there’s red. 

Her grandmother’s face is severe. “What happened?” 

Momo glanced around the home. There she saw the ward left above the trimming now blackened on the front. 

“The abandoned village at Shono City," she responded.

Momo frowns at the memory, gripping the handle of her bat to swing at something else in front of her. A broken chair, another empty can, the aggression she feels at the moment can not really be explained other than she's frustrated at being here.

Whatever lured her is messing with her. Spirits are known for hiding themselves away in spots, nooks and crevices of homes. 

Said spirits can manipulate technology; they mess with lights, video, and disrupt circuits. Her grandmother had equipped her with Nessie to keep. Her own psychic ability is just another shield she can use if things get too sticky. 

Her grandmother had given her many wards and many blessings before she left. She reminded Momo to pray to the shrines she encounters and to talk to the people of the surrounding towns for any information on the abandoned village. 

She still has not seen any sign of the so-called yokai.  

Momo turns and spots something in the row of buildings still intact a few yards away. From this distance she can see it may have been old office complexes, the windows still standing tall. 

She hums, rolling her shoulders. The trek over there is easy enough until she hears skittering near a corner. 

It sounds like some large animal, and she grips her bat, the unnerving sensation of something else clenching itself in the pit of her stomach. She steps closer to the large dumpster, and she hears a voice. 

“Boy.” It’s nothing like she’s ever heard. The woman sounds gravelly, rumbling in a deep tone. “Not that one, go and grab the other.” 

The shuffling is heard again and Momo feels a chill up her spine. What kind of person is alone in this area of Shono City? Why would they be there? 

She steps quietly, trying to find a way to not disturb whatever is going on. She can’t even think of a reason why anyone would be in this spot of town next to the haunted tunnel. This place isn’t fit for people to be inhabiting it. Unless it’s someone who's homeless? That could be the reason.

While Momo’s thoughts continue to swirl, she doesn’t realize she kicks a glass. 

The sound is loud enough to cease the movement from the dumpster. Momo curses inwardly. She really messed this up. She grips her bat letting the weapon rest against her shoulder as she steps again, rounding the corner. 

It’s not an old woman. Instead she sees a young man, crouched low, and he’s looking at her.

He’s all long limbs, tattered clothes, and there’s a serpent wrapped around his neck. 

The mask he wears is a jaw spread open. She can make out his face inside. Momo gapes, completely in awe of what she’s witnessing. How could this be? Who is this?

“Boy!” the serpent shrieks, its yellow eyes peering between the two of them. “You’ve been caught and even worse, by a medium.” 

Momo holds her bat up, expecting the young man to attack, but instead he drops his hands, letting the can of food from the garbage roll away. He slumps then, seeming to shrink back. His long white hair behind him. It’s an unruly mess, longer than her grandmother's. 

“You must be who I’ve been searching for,” Momo declares. She can figure the puzzle out. All of the pieces are coming together. “The yokai is actually a possessed person.” 

The serpent clicks its tongue, coiling around the young man in an irritated stance. “Well, gaudy child, yer one of those delinquent young’ins.” 

Momo curls her lip, hand on her hip. “What’s it matter, you’re what I came here for,” she says pointedly. 

She didn’t travel all the way to Shono City to argue with an old hag. This is not what she signed up for. The guy before her still eyes her curiously. He doesn’t say anything, but it seems that he may have gotten a bit too close to this yokai. 

Momo taps her foot. This may not be an easy cleanse. It may end up harming him. She can’t afford to be clumsy now with a living person. 

The serpent cackles. “You think you can get me out of this boy? I’d like to see you try, girl,” the creature taunts. “You’re a juvenile at this, I can see it.” 

The old hag smiles and Momo can sense the shift in energy. The chills rise up from her spine. She can feel the weight of it on her chest, cold and brisk like the entrance of a freezer. 

Momo squares her shoulders, not letting this hag scare her off. There's a person she has to help.

She can’t tell at all how the boy feels, but maybe she can use bits of her own ability to search inside of him. But Momo doesn’t want to yet, first she needs to see if she can outsmart this crone. 

“Oh, great spirit,” she declares. The serpent peers at her, a sneer evident on its features. The boy's hands are curled inwards, nails blackened. The eyes inside of the mask are still blinking at her owlishly. 

She glances back to the serpent. “I’ll make you a deal.” 

The crone grins, wide and vile. She can feel the spiritual energy prickle her skin. It feels like a million caterpillars crawling, their tiny legs moving in a horrible dance. “Oh?” the serpent mocks. “What could you possibly uphold in a deal with someone like me?” 

Momo stands tall; she knows this horrible feeling. The doubt from the energy surrounds her, pushing down onto her shoulders. It’s thick like a fog, encompassing her as she can see the aura coiling around the boy and the serpent. 

She grounds herself, focusing on him before her. 

He watches her carefully, so at odds with his companionship he has. The crone in the serpent’s body moves to the other side as the boy rises from his haunches. He’s not so tall, just a bit above her height. 

Momo swallows, not giving into the seeds of uncertainty. No room for hesitation, she thinks to herself. This guy needs my help. 

“The deal is I get to come back here and see him,” she gestures to the young man. The guy doesn’t respond, as quiet as can be. 

The serpent cackles, low and raspy. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Momo frowns, not liking the reaction. But she has an intention, something she has to do. If this can be someone she can save from whatever this malignant spirit could be. She can maybe become something her grandmother can recognize as a medium. 

Momo stands tall; she won’t let whatever this being is taunt her or take control from another individual again. 

She doesn’t want to remember the last time–the incident with the phone–when something did sneak up on her. That left her disoriented and terrified for nights before coming here.

“And where will you take him? Away from here?” 

Momo huffs, her bat dinging against the dirt. It rattles before her as she hits it against the ground again. Sunlight is beginning to fade, she needs to hurry. 

“I’ll take him back with me, research what he has so I can help him–” 

“Help the boy who asked to be what he is?” the serpent responds, its sneer evident in its large eyes. The voice coils around her. “This boy,” it spits, “he asked for this.” 

Momo swallows. “No one asked to be possessed.” 

The crone laughs, mocking in nature. “This boy did.” 

She glances at the crouched young man. He’s still human, she reminds herself. He’s not too far gone. She can still save him. It’d be important to do so. 

Her grandmother is entrusting her with this. 

She assigned her because her grandmother knows Momo can do this, but there’s always that odd doubt that comes up. Despite being who Momo is, her legacy within herself. It’s all for her grandmother.

Is it even something she wants?

The serpent's laughter is coy and the boy beside her shivers lightly. It is a bit chilly out now; she recognises it. She has to gain her courage. “Then I’ll help. I can exorcise you, right here and right now.” 

The creature ceases, eyeing her. “You’re bluffing, girl.” 

“I’m not,” Momo responds. “I have an ability that you haven’t seen a medium show before.” 

They both stare at her. 

“Then prove it,” the serpent says. 

Momo’s eyebrow twitches. Momo shuts her eyes and centers her spiritual energy. She can see the glows of the auras around her. 

The bits of the energy around the boy off to the side she can see vividly. The auras dance together, a vibrant blue morphed in with the red, an oppressive swirl around the other. Momo pushes her hands outwards, letting them unfurl like a blooming flower. The serpent hisses. 

“You’ve got an interesting ability,” it mutters, watching as her spiritual hands encircle them. 

Momo relaxes, blinking her eyes, and she curls the ability inside of her. She needs to keep this on lock, hidden away in the depths of her abdomen. 

“I know, so, does that make it a deal?” 

The serpent hums. “If you were to exorcise him here and now, do you think anyone would remember him?”

She frowns at the question. He deserves to be remembered, she thinks. He’s still alive, isn’t he? She glances at the boy, his large eyes behind his frames. 

“What did you do to him?” 

The serpent’s sinuous movement is almost thoughtful. The glowing eyes dizzy her when she looks into them. Momo blinks quickly, keeping her focus on him. 

“I didn’t do anything he didn’t ask for,” the creature repeats. 

Momo’s lips curl. “Alright, but you’re still destroying him from the inside out… spirits should respect the living!” 

The statement has held true for ages, her grandmother teaching her this since taking her to spiritual cleansings at a young age. It was necessary at the time, to ensure she knew every step to take when dealing with possessions.

“The dead must never attack the living, so force is necessary to send them to the other side. Likewise, the living must not disrespect the dead. Treading on their territory disrespectfully invites their malice.” 

Her grandmother had held her hand tightly, just barely at the age of sixteen when they had visited a similar site such as the abandoned village in Shono City.

While Momo’s eyes are still on the boy, the horrifying thought comes to her. Is he one of those victims from the storm that the old man talked about?

Is he even actually alive? 

The serpent’s cackle brings her back, grounding her to reality. “Your face is obvious. He’s still alive, just a desperate boy… he was seeking something and I promised to be beside him all the while.” 

“What did you falsely promise him?” Momo counters. The boy only flinches. He can still understand everything, and her heart aches for him. How long had he been living in this transformed state? 

Her grandmother had shown her the state of being possessed for so long by a yokai. The person completely deteriorates, an odd crumbling happening to them from the outside that leaves scars and damage. 

She’s not sure what happens inwardly to the aura of one's self, but she’s seen enough during her training. 

This has to go well. Maybe if she can sneak her hands inside she can take a look. “If I try to separate you, do you think it’d work? You don’t want to be stuck in this state, do you?” 

Maybe if she gives the yokai at least some kind of thought for its well being, it would release the young man. 

The serpent hisses, coiling itself tightly around the boy once more. The boy’s hand lifts his long fingers against the creature. 

Is the serpent protecting him?

She bites her lip, still confused by all of this. He can’t be the yokai who had been causing damage to the town. 

The tunnel… 

Her eyes widen in realization. “Are you the 100 KPH Granny?” 

The two of them react, lifting their heads. 

“Girl,” the serpent says. “Thats Turbo Granny to the likes of you.”

Chapter Text

“She’s elusive,” her grandmother told her. They completed a cleansing near the damaged site of Saitama after past flooding had taken the town. The heavy rain fell, damaging homes. 

“Who?” Momo asked. It had been a long-winded one, going to shrine after shrine. It takes a lot of spiritual energy, but it’s a necessity among mediums to keep up with tradition. The gods require thanks; it’s how they exist. Momo feels her temple's pulse. A cleansing and a prayer. Her spiritual energy feels tumultuous.

Her grandmother's smoke smells floral. “The Turbo Granny,” she said. “She caused the majority of this damage. I’m sure she’s hidden somewhere. We mediums have been trying to catch her for some time now.” 

Momo lifted her head, the damage around the area still devastating to look at. She can see everyone digging through the rubble of what’s left of their homes. Her grandmother already offered them a safe place and her apprentices were dispatched to help with cleaning. 

Luckily, there had been no casualties. Some were sent to the hospital for minor injuries.    

“I thought a storm did this,” she mumbled. Her eyes caught onto a pair of round glasses, damaged beneath some rubble. 

She pursed her lips, her hands clutched into the fabric of her hibakama. 

Her grandmother made a disapproving noise. “Angry spirits bring about natural disasters,” is all she had said. 

Momo watched her go, calling over the gentlemen to guide everyone away from their losses. 

All she could do was stand there, the round glasses keeping her gaze.

Momo stares at the two of them. The bat is already poised in front of her. “So you did cause everything here,” she says. She can’t stop her anger, her power buzzing underneath her like the song of cicadas. This is the second spot–another site taken because of this yokai's own destruction.

The serpent’s eyes sharpen and the boy crawls on top of the closed dumpster. He’s still protecting Turbo Granny, she realizes.

Why? She lifts her bat, jutting it at them. “Whatever sick deal you two have ends today!” 

Turbo Granny laughs. “Like you could do so. If you try to separate us, he dies, girl!” 

“He won't die on my watch!” Momo’s spectral hands burst from her, grabbing the boy and Turbo Granny before the two can move. 

The older yokai spits, snarling, and the boy tries to push out of the hold she has them in. Her spiritual hands stay steady, wrapping themselves around the two.

“You need to give him his body back,” Momo demands. She’s going to have to do this the hard way. 

“Girl,” Turbo Granny warns, “don’t do it!” 

Momo ignores the caution in her tone, letting the left side of her spectral hands push against flesh, underneath muscle, and into the violent aura in the center of his chest. 

Momo’s eyes shut and her pulse picks up in speed. She needs to do this extraction carefully. If she can just pull the two of them away, it'll be for the best. She can go home well before the sun falls. Before darkness takes a hold of her.

Her hands close themselves around the aura, morphing together into a horrible flame of deep red and black. It is eating him from the inside. Momo presses on and it’s then she sees images. It’s distorted, all in black and white. 

It reminds her of the old Ken Takakura films from her collection. A Fugitive from the Past comes to mind as she advances her power further into the depths. The aura is entangled like a flaming nebula. 

What she sees then are grainy images.

There’s a little boy. He’s sporting a simple bowlcut, all too large glasses, and he has his things tucked underneath his arms. 

The next sequence shutters over like the click of a camera.

There’s the same boy, standing atop a roof alone, tinkering with his radios. The sensation of something hitting her shocks her and Momo moves in time with the boy. 

The entire image switches over to another  scene. The two of them glance up to witness the group at the front of the class laughing at them. 

Her voice is caught in barbed wire. She cannot speak. Neither can the boy. 

The next blink, they continue their long trek home on a dirt path to the village. 

The storm happens then, a raging one that begins the landslide all throughout the valley. There’s noises, loud and sharp. The home groans in on itself and they hide, scared and alone. 

Momo can feel the way his heart beats. They clutch onto the magazine tighter. 

The memories continue pouring out from her. She sees the water rising and they both cower away. They run to grab things they need, and they leave from one of the doors of their home. 

Everywhere is flooding, water as high as their ankles. Everywhere is flooding, water as high as their ankles. The land is completely overwrought.

Momo remembers. This is where it all began: the start of the storms near Saitama, and now, the one in Shono City.

They run into the night, their shoes sloshing and their clothes weighing them down. Until they spot somewhere safe. A reprieve. 

Momo recognizes it as the top of the tunnel she visited before. 

They walk further towards the edge, they turn and see the water below them rise. 

They're scared; this isn’t right. They need to head back. Why did they leave? Why didn't they stay?

The small boy lifts his hands and it’s the first time she hears his voice. His words move with hers, as if it’s coming from her. 

“Please, help! Anyone…? Father?” 

Their voice is hoarse, rough with emotion. Their hands tremble as they continue to beg for whatever is out there to save them. 

It isn’t the gods or Buddha. It’s something else he wants. She sees images of the magazines they’ve flipped through: extraterrestrials, expeditions to mars, and the vast space of the stars. 

It’s a  form of comfort for a small child, to try remembering the happiest moments before all of it is taken away. 

The rain continues to cascade above them and hear a rustle beside them. A small cry for help. 

It also sounds like a child. 

“Hello?” they call out. They huddle in on themselves for warmth. The rain doesn’t cease, and the water below sounds like explosions. It’s still too dark to see, and in a faint moment of self-awareness, they can hear the screams of the village. 

Voices far away, they can do nothing but stay put while everything else below is swept away by mud, water, and debris. 

The cry is heard again, but this time it’s coming from them. 

Everything's dark. 

“Child, have you lost your way?” comes a voice. 

A figure of light that comes. They lift their head and see her: an old woman, clothes from another time, and her hair unruly. 

They sniffle. “Please help. I ran out because of the storm. My father always told me to find higher ground… and I don’t know where I am.” 

The old woman steps closer. The rain patters against them, the sound of rushing water never fading.

“Young boy, I can help you.” The woman holds out her hand. They wipe their face and Momo can feel it. A sense of relief. Of hope. 

Her will shakes, the image distorting. 

Something isn’t right. 

They rise then, taking her hand in theirs. 

“I can go with you?” they ask, the rain around them drenching them. 

The old woman smiles, all yellow teeth. Her eyes glow like a harvest moon, an eerie amber.

The hope is still within them; they can trust her. They know that this adult will know her way, and they can return home to their father. Their father. He’s still working late shifts. 

They miss their father. 

“You can stay with me,” the woman says. 

They smile, suddenly at ease even if her appearance is scary. The lady is an adult, and adults can help! 

“Can I? Will you help me go home?” 

“Yes,” she hisses. “Of course, I can take you back.” 

Thank goodness, they think. 

“But,” she says, “I am going to need something from you.” 

They blink up at her, but their glasses are covered in water. Everything is drenched; they can’t quite see.

“And what is that…?” 

“I need someone to stay with, someone that can help me find my grandchild.” 

No, Momo thinks. Her vision blurs; her body removes itself from the form she’s taken with the memory. 

This can’t be. No, not this. Her pulse picks up and there’s a faint throbbing at her temple. 

“I can help! Maybe… will your grandchild like me if they meet me?” 

“Of course,” she says, her voice a whisper, but still so loud through the rain. 

The boy smiles, wiping at his face. The rain is misting now. This must be the end. 

“Will you help me find them?” she prods again. 

The boy nods vigorously. His hair is wet. 

“I sure can! Um… is your grandchild my age?” 

“Possibly…” the woman trails off. “Can I stay with you?” 

No, Momo shouts above the memory. She screams despite her power trickling away from her. She thrashes, her head pulsing with all of the visions. It’s not like a clock where one can detach from the wall to spin back in time. 

This is something that cannot be reversed.

“Yes!” he chirps, the rain lightening, the water rushing below. They stay above the tunnel and Momo can see from the moment they agree that the eyes of the woman glow even brighter, a devious, disruptive red. 

“How kind of you, child. Have you been on your own for long?” she asks. 

The boy droops his head. The sounds are muted now, but Momo knows where this is going. Momo can’t bear it. 

He was only a child, so young and so tiny. 

No one was there to help him. Where were his parents? He had been all alone in that home while the storm continued to rage. She could see from the distorted images of memory that he had hid and stayed hidden until the water rose. 

Momo didn’t know what to think. 

She didn’t know if she could stop what was happening now in front of her. Everything continues as it is in a memory, seeing the lives displayed out in front of her. Whenever her hands connect to the auras, there’s no cease the vision. 

“I have been,” they add quietly, a tiny whisper. He cannot see the look she’s revealing in the moment. The old woman smiles, yellowed teeth, a glint in her eye. 

Something bad is going to happen. 

And she cannot turn back time. No matter how much she’s granted a gift. 

“Well, once I’m with you, you’ll never be alone.” 

He looks up at her, the rain coming to a stop. “You’ll stay with me, really?” 

“So you won’t ever have to be alone.” 

Momo won’t be able to stop it. “Forever?” he wonders in awe. 

The old woman smiles, looking nothing like a human. But to a child, she may have been something like a godsend. A savior in many ways. 

A false idol. 

“Forever, do you know how long that is?” 

“I don’t…” 

“Then, I’ll show it to you.” 

Momo gasps, her head pulsing from the reel of images. It’s not right. This can’t be right. 

How can she make it stop? How could she reverse this? 

The overtaking is simple; it’s quiet in the softness of night. 

A child’s secret kept tucked away beneath the blanket.

Momo’s mind burns and everything aches as she pulls her spectral hands away. The boy and Turbo Granny crawl on the side of the building as Momo clutches her head. Her entire body quivers from the agonizing torment of their memories. 

“Fuck!” she cries, clutching her head. It feels like she’s splitting apart. She's overdone it. Mirroring has never been something she could achieve for so long, but she had been there with him. She had felt everything he felt. 

She’s brought to her knees, her head still pulsing and her hands shaking. 

“You did it to yourself, girl!” Turbo Granny laughs. 

The yokai’s voice is heard then. “Boy, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s fine.” 

Momo tries to center herself, ignoring the talking amongst themselves. “You bitch,” she grunts out. “You lied to him!” 

“I didn’t! He did it to himself. He asked for this, he wanted to be a part of something!” 

She frowns, trying to ignore the disorienting feeling of bile in her throat. “You took him over without his permission!” 

Turbo Granny speaks again, but not to her. “Go over there then, if you wish. She won’t like you as you are.” 

Momo squints, making out the boy running to her on all fours. She blinks, curious at the way he looks at her. 

“Tch,” Turbo Granny mutters. “He wants to know if you’re okay, and he’s sorry you had to see it.” 

“How’d he… he can’t talk?” 

“I’ve taken his autonomy, everything. He’s my vessel. But his sense of self is still there.” 

Momo’s hatred rises. “How long has he been like this? Why don’t you separate yourself from him?”

Now she’s getting mad again. She grits her teeth, her spectral hands coming forth to grab the snake by the neck. 

She’s angry for the little boy. For the childhood he never got to have. Years stolen from him because of a false promise. 

Turbo Granny cries out, “you–if you kill me, you kill the boy.” 

Momo’s lip curls, a feral emotion causing her entire ability to make the ground quake. The snake and the boy look around, watching the dumpster begin to float. Her entire power creates an earthquake of emotion. 

“Separate yourself from him,” she threatens again. “It’s your last chance.” 

Turbo Granny tries to wiggle from her grasp and the boy looks at her in desperation. 

She pauses at the look in his eyes. 

A pleading expression. His mouth twists and then he says it in a hoarse voice. 

“Stop…” 

Momo freezes, everything around her stopping in mid motion. She swallows, suddenly aware of the energy buzzing in the air. She heaves, releasing the serpent as Turbo Granny coils herself around the boy, his hand curling protectively over her. The dumpster falls back to the ground with a loud boom. 

She collapses into the dirt, Nessie long forgotten. 

It’s a failure. There’s no way she can save him. They’re attached, completely tied together. There has to be a way. 

Momo smacks herself. Think, you can do it, Momo. Her eyes shake and the dirt below her digs into her knees. What else could she do? What else? 

She hears it then. A tapping beside her. She looks up into the opened mask, the face inside peering out at her. 

Momo blinks, feeling everything shift around her. “Do you want to stay like this?” she asks him, searching his gaze. 

He’s still alive, so it’s not a total failure. 

This boy should’ve died during the possession. The way she had felt all of it with him. She shivers, feeling bile in her throat. The darkness surrounds them now, twilight long gone. The streetlights flicker above them. She feels a drop of rain on her. 

Seriously, she thinks. “Fuck,” she groans out. 

She’s completely incompetent. Momo has nothing left. All of it was completely gone before her. This was supposed to be a clear execution. 

“Girl,” Turbo Granny says. “I called you here.” 

Momo gapes. “What?” 

The rain around them is beginning to pick up. The boy lifts his hand up to feel the rain. How long had it been for him? Just stuck like this? 

He remains as a shell of a person, piloted by the cruelest yokai. 

Brutal and quick, she should’ve given him an ending. 

The hag didn’t. 

“We know a place you can hide from the rain,” Turbo Granny tells her. 

She doesn’t trust her. What’s stopping this crone from killing her alongside him? Momo looks at the boy then, the droplets soaking through her clothes. “Why should I trust you? You completely brainwashed him.” 

Turbo Granny growls low to herself, her yellow eyes on the boy. “She sees you’re human and she wants to save you.” 

He gives her a harsh look, grabbing Turbo Granny. Whatever he’s thinking must be easily conveyed through those looks. There’s a communication she doesn't quite understand. But maybe years of this companionship will do that to someone.

“He wants to show you where he lives,” Turbo Granny says finally. “Or else he’ll throw me out.” 

Momo laughs in disbelief. This can’t be happening. This is a weird dream she’s fallen into. 

All of this was coordinated by the crone before her. What else does she have to lose? By this point, there's nothing. And her body is groaning in on itself for being overworked by her own emotions.

“Fine, I’ll go with you," Momo decides.  

The boy looks up at her, surprise fitting across his face, his eyes glowing. She feels goosebumps up her arms. “Hurry,” Turbo Granny bosses. “We’re going to get all wet and you’re down to your last bit of clothes, boy!” 

Momo gets up, walking over to grab Nessie. 

The thunder rumbles lowly above them as she follows them deep into one of the tall buildings. 

“Boy, you invited her, you guide her!” Turbo Granny snaps at him.

Momo rolls her eyes. The sequence of events around her is still befuddling as they wait out the storm. She taps her jacket, trying to find her phone. When she looks at it, the signal is gone. 

A complete dead zone. 

She knows her Granny may be worrying. She hopes after not hearing from her for a few hours that means she’d be able to come out here to lend some aid. Or not. She doesn’t know how much her grandmother would even want to help her.

Momo looks to see they’re entering a spot in the old building. The boy before her stops. The entire time he had been walking in a low crouch, his long hands helping support the rest of him. 

He stares at her, unblinking. “He’s waiting for you to catch up,” Turbo Granny grounds out. 

The boy glances quickly at Turbo Granny, a huff of annoyance coming from him. 

“How long has he been like this?” Momo wonders. 

“I lost track of the time,” Turbo Granny says. Momo raises a brow, her bat clanging against her. 

“Well, how old was he when you took over?” 

The hag looks at the boy and the boy holds up his fingers. Eight are shown. 

“Eight years old,” Momo gasps. He was so young and she’s nineteen now. He’s been stuck like this for a decade. 

Momo shakes her head. “And you didn’t think there would be repercussions for all of this?” 

Turbo Granny squirms, her sharp teeth clenching. “I needed the resource. You saw the memories. I did nothing to hurt him.” 

Momo can’t say anything to that because it doesn’t feel like the entire story. “What was it you could gain from trapping yourself within a child?” 

“Yokai need spiritual energy. He hadn’t manifested yet, but I could see it glimmering deep within.” 

Momo swallows, uncertain of how to take that. “Yokai already have the spiritual capacity they need. Unless you were weakened by something?” 

Turbo Granny eyes her. “I needed the resource,” she repeats simply. 

Momo’s eyebrow twitches, and she grips Nessie tighter, trying to ignore the sting in her temples. She may have overdid it with her ability. Being inside someone's memories, their heart, takes a toll on her. 

She's never experienced it at that magnitude before. And definitely not with a yokai merging with a human aura. 

It leaves her thinking that she needs to ask her own Granny about all of this. 

When they finally get to a spot, she looks around the empty space. Everything is pushed around, shoveled into corners of the windows. The rain comes down hard from outside.

“Do you two live here?” Momo asks. She notices now it’s an older department store.

“Welcome to our humble abode, girl,” she cackles. 

Right, the horrible sense of humor the old hag has. The boy rises from his haunches. He’s still about her height, despite his slouch. 

“Um, do you eat anything here?” 

He nods, his long finger pointing to a corner with old cushions and a portable campfire at the center. 

“He’s going to make you something,” Turbo Granny tells her. Momo blinks, shrugging off her jacket. She glares at the snake. 

“Well, I trust he’d make it, since you don’t have a body.” 

“Feh, he still has the ability to control me enough. I don’t know how he does it. Maybe his will to live is stronger than he thought.” 

Momo frowns at that. It’s not right that she can just voice out loud his secrets. The boy glances away from her, his brows knitting in thought.

“Hey,” she calls to him, “let’s ignore her and eat something.” No matter how weird the situation is, she can at least do this until the night passes. 

The low rumbling continues as Momo takes a seat next to one of the cushions. He crouches back into his usual stance. 

She thinks offhandedly that he may just be comfortable like this. 

“Well, give her some of your snacks, don’t just leave her waiting!” Turbo Granny snaps. 

Momo glares at the snake. “Hey, you’re inside his body, remember? You’re the one that wanted to possess him.” 

The absurdity of it all. Turbo Granny is the worst kind of parasite. Probably even worse than a leech. 

The snake snaps her teeth at Momo threateningly, but the boy makes a noise of disapproval at her. 

Momo has to fight a laugh because how odd. They seem to have been like this for sometime. It's almost like witnessing an owner with their petulant dog.

The boy pushes his offering to her. It's a pack of dried jerky. She bows her head, thanking him. 

There’s also a thermos that he gives to her before he continues to carefully start the portable campfire, Turbo Granny directing orders at him. Momo has to tamp down the urge to throttle the hag. 

“So, what’s your name?”she asks to fill in the silence and Turbo Granny's voice. The boy tilts his head, his hair moving with him. He scratches the side of his face. She watches as he knicks his skin with his long nails. 

She frowns at the way he doesn’t seem to notice, as if pain has become an inherent thing in his life. 

Momo takes a cloth, reaching out, but ceasing her movement. He stares at her, his eyes wide. 

Even without words to use, there’s so much she can see on his expression in the remaining light. There’s awe and relief present within him. 

How long has it been since he’s had human interaction? Being hidden all the way in the mountains of Shono City, where the tunnel is hidden beneath the destruction of his home. 

It has been abandoned for years. 

“Is this okay?” She gestures to the cloth. She points to her face. “You have a scratch, may I?” 

He nods slowly and Momo’s able to tend to his wound carefully.

“Hey, hag, don’t you have a first aid kit?” she grouses, making sure to apply a gentle pressure. “Your host got injured by his own hands.” 

The snake slithers close to Momo. Turbo Granny’s expression is irritable. “You can do it, can’t you? You’ve already found a solution.” 

Momo sneers at her. “You’re some help. You know there’s a special place for you in the afterlife…” 

The snake slithers back up the boy’s arm. Her glowing eyes glaring directly at Momo. “If you want to know more about him, then take a peek into his memories.” 

Momo doesn’t trust that one bit. 

“I’m supposed to be cleansing the area, but instead I found a headache and a half!” 

Turbo Granny grunts, sliding up the boy’s shoulder. “You’re such a delinquent. If you had met this boy first, you would’ve taught him how to misbehave.” 

Momo makes a face, her lip curling. “If that’s what you think… it would’ve been better than what he has now.” 

The boy frowns at her, his eyes glancing over to Turbo Granny. “Even if he had kept his autonomy, do you think you could’ve saved him?” 

“I would’ve been able to do something and not keep him locked away from people. He's in a vulnerable state.” 

Turbo Granny’s mouth curls then. “Foolish, girl. He’d been abandoned. That’s the part of the memories he doesn’t show!” she spits out. 

Momo blanches, her eyes going wide in shock. Abandoned? He was just left there? All alone… at eight years old. During the height of a horrible disaster? 

She swallows, her stomach dropping. She glances away, down at the portable campfire and her bag of jerky he had given her. 

Turbo Granny mutters something else that she can’t quite make out, but it’s not until then that she realizes she’s talking to the boy. He curls into himself, cupping the snake in one of his hands. 

The nails are entirely too long, the length sharp like knives. 

“You shouldn’t tell his business,” Momo adds quietly. 

The two of them look at her, she can feel their eyes on her while she rips a piece of jerky with her teeth. 

“His business was already aired out when you went pushing through his chest cavity!” Turbo Granny retorts. 

Momo growls, gripping her hands. “Why did you call me here?” 

Because she has to remember that all of this started because of Turbo Granny calling the Ayase home. The tiny hag beside the feral boy is the reason for all of this. 

“There’s a reason, isn’t there? So tell me why?” 

Turbo Granny doesn’t blink, just returning to her fierce look, one eye bulging. “I don’t give my reasons to a medium. That never goes well for me.” 

Momo snorts. “You’ve told me more than enough, you know that right?” 

Turbo Granny makes a disagreeable noise. “You’re with the one person that could probably help this.” 

“Person?” 

“I ain’t saying anymore to that.” 

Momo frowns, her brows furrowing. One person, but who… ah. Momo blinks. She’s uncertain, but she has a hunch. A quiet one. 

“Right, well, if you won’t give me that information, then what more could we do about this? About you and him?” 

“I have to exist within him, it’s the deal.” 

“Oh, so now you respect the logistics?” Momo adds, crossing her arms. “You didn’t grant him the courtesy to even give him the deets.” 

Turbo Granny mutters something. “What I do with who I choose as a host is none of your business.” 

“It is when he didn’t have a say in what it could be!” she declares. She’s still so irritated that all of this happened because of some yokai hungry for the aura of a child. 

“What drew you to him, anyway?” 

Turbo Granny narrows her eyes. “That’s not for me to say.” 

“You’ve said a lot before,” Momo counters. She stares at the piece of meat in her hands, the rain continuing to pour from outside. Her eyes drift around the vacant building with what little light she has. 

The hand that comes towards her is not her own. She looks to see the boy holding out something for her. It looks like water, and he waits patiently for her to receive it. Momo ducks her head politely. 

“Thank you. What’s your name?” 

She tries this again. Hopefully she can at least have this. If she can give him an exchange in humanity, it may help him have a desire to come back to the world of the living.

A passing thought comes to her, that it's ultimately his decision alone. Even if Turbo Granny manipulated the child, he did want someone beside him through it all.

The memories of his life come back to her; alone, a child, and bullied. He had been left there, just as Turbo Granny said.

He is what remains of the village before it completely became demolished. 

The boy holds his hand up and Turbo Granny speaks for him. 

“His name is Ken Takakura.”

Chapter Text

When Momo first watched a Ken Takakura film she had been just about the age of five. Her grandmother would put on old black and white films from the Showa era. It was a routine that they had kept well into Momo’s teen years. 

Granny would get snack time ready after Momo arrived from school to keep her happy before dinner. And Momo, by her request, would ask for Jakoman and Tetsu. Granny would play the films, all lined up for Momo to sit and eat her onigiri. 

She would watch, immersed in the imagery, in the quests Ken Takakura ventured into. She supposed this could be her life, too. If she grew up she could be like him and move forward into confronting the inevitable, the outrageous, and even the most horrifying. 

Granny would sit beside her, watching with her before placing the VHS of Baketono to watch after Momo got her afternoon nap in. 

She would dream of a life full of adventure and bending the odds. 

Momo thought she could be just like Ken Takakura and exist in the same realm of wonder. A passion and steadiness that could be hers if she focused on her training.

During those years, she knew she would be able to face whatever came her way.

A child’s dream, full of hope. 

“Ken Takakura?” she whispers. 

Turbo Granny stares at her as the young man curls into himself, almost bashful at being spoken to directly. 

Her heart aches because the image of the Ken Takakura she has is a Showa era gangster, a man of many faces. She looks at Ken and sees the image of a lonely child, now a young adult who hasn’t had the contact that she has had. 

Momo frowns, closing up the packaging of the food. “Do you want to stay like this?” she asks him. 

This time she ignores Turbo Granny’s remarks, but she levels her gaze with his. He glances away, but the motion is not lost on her. 

He’s shaking his head. 

“He says no, but if he has to be like this, he’ll do it. He’s made a promise, after all,” Turbo Granny’s voice comes in response. 

She grimaces, staring at nothing. It's unfair that he's been lost to another world, never getting to know anything other than possession. A promise he made without realizing the weight of it. 

“Don’t you feel angry?” Momo speaks directly to him. 

The face in the mask glances away, only able to shake his head. 

Momo sighs. “Then I’ll be angry for you. I don’t think it’s fair.” She rises from her position. Turbo Granny clicks her tongue. 

“It’s not something you can control regardless. He asked for this.” 

“So, why did you call me in?” 

Turbo Granny hisses. “I told you, my reasons are for me. Since you’ve warmed up to my host, I know you won’t hurt me now.” 

“That doesn’t answer the question! Don’t call him your host, it’s dehumanizing!” 

Turbo Granny tsks. “There’s someone who may know how to unbind us…” 

“What made you even want to be bound to a child?” 

The silence of the moment weighs down. There’s a sudden shift then, a brisk, cool gust of air that unsettles her. 

“A child’s spiritual intuitiveness is powerful, even if they don’t have their spiritual ability awakened. They can still see the other world.” 

Momo blinks, relaxing her posture.

There were times when she met people who were never there. Strange beings that would be hovering outside the shrine, watching from the rice paddies where she would play. 

The wards would keep them from entering, but even then she knew. They were there to see her grandmother in some way. 

Momo realizes then, her eyes going wide. “You know my granny, don’t you?” 

Before Turbo Granny can respond there’s another burst of cold air, a pressure so heavy that it suffocates them. 

She can sense it then, the darkest aura coming from somewhere. 

“Is that you?” She turns to look at the boy.

 Ken, his name is Ken, she reminds herself. Ken’s eyes go wide when he looks towards the darkness. 

Momo can barely make out the aura, but it’s there. 

“Ōmagatoki,” Turbo Granny says. “This place, it’s a meeting for the spirits of all of us to gather around.” 

“Did you plan to bring me here?” Momo snaps, already feeling more pressure from the massive auras. 

“Stay quiet!” Turbo Granny retorts. “Or they’ll see you!” 

Ken, the boy, steps back, but not without pushing Momo behind him. She swallows, uncertain as to why she can trust them, not even knowing them long enough. 

Momo shuts her eyes as the floor beneath them begins to shake. The auras around her are all contorted, twisted and morphed into rich shades of burgundy. 

They’re not like Turbo Granny and Ken’s, not by any means. They are much more oppressive in nature. 

She’s trying to remember what her grandmother had said about the gathering of spirits. She knew the sun was fading fast before the rain. Momo remembers some of the history of the beings all converging together. 

Her grandmother would remind her that she needed to come inside before twilight faded. Because the hour of spirits would come, and if she got lost… 

They would whisk her away into the other world. 

Momo’s heart clenches thinking this must’ve been the same experience Ken had when meeting Turbo Granny. 

She shakes the thoughts away, trying to ground her senses. She needs to watch when the spirits will move, and once they do move out of their meeting point, she can go back into the rain and then–but wait, she couldn’t leave Ken here. 

Momo steps back, the noise enough for the spirits to all snap to her at that moment. 

She can see all of their figures, all yokai and yūrei with different features. Their auras blaze when they spot her, and Turbo Granny curses underneath her breath. 

Momo’s hands come out right when the spirits descend. The glow from her teal hands bathe the dark in a bright light. 

The yokai all recede, some with many eyes, many hands, and many legs. The noises they make sound like the cries of monkeys from the mountains. Momo continues to press against the aura, slowly pushing them away from their area; she doesn’t want to cleanse them, although she doesn’t want them here with all of them. 

They disperse as quickly as they appear. 

The light emitting from her keeps Turbo Granny and Ken staring at her in wonder as everything around them floats in suspension. 

Once everything twice has settled back, everything clatters around her and Momo huffs, dropping to her knees. That’s twice now. 

She’s facing some issues with her abilities since the memories and now this. 

“Shit, I think I overdid it,” she clutches her head. There’s a persistent pulsing there and her legs feel wobbly. 

She’s lightheaded, the bottom of the floor spinning. 

“Whatever you did made them flee. They must know what you are,” Turbo Granny tells her. 

“What I am?” Momo’s head pulses again. She grunts nothing else out, but only feels pain. It’s what she gets for pushing herself to her limits. 

Her grandmother's voice comes to her again during these times. “Focus your energy below your belly,” her words remain. 

She shuts her eyes and she is no longer shaking. 

When she wakes up, she’s on top of a makeshift bed. All cardboard and a duffel bag cushioning her head. 

“You’re awake,” Turbo Granny says. Ken’s beside her then, blinking at her curiously. He offers her a drink and a fresh towel. 

“Where did you get these?” 

“We’re scavengers. We make do with whatever we can find,” Turbo Granny states. 

Momo shakes her head. “You never answered me. You know my grandmother, so was calling me here just to get back at her or something?” 

Turbo Granny doesn’t say anything else, but Ken pushes the items into her hands. Momo thanks him, relieved that the room has stopped spinning.

“How long have I been out of it?” 

“Not for long, but it’s almost dawn.” 

Momo blinks, moving to get her phone from her pocket. The screen is cracked and she curses. “Man, this is the fourth one already.” 

“Girl, this land… it’s a meeting place for the spirits. My tunnel and everything here is the center for all of them to gather.” 

She raises an eyebrow, her eyes staring into Ken’s rather than Turbo Granny’s confession. 

“So, during that evening, that’s when you took him over?” 

They don’t say anything. 

Momo continues to speak, finally placing the pieces together. “That natural disaster was because of the Ōmagatoki meeting and that’s when you met him–when you spirited him away."

She frowns, clenching her fists. “He never even had a choice, did he?" Just there at the wrong place… at the wrong time. 

The silence drags on. Momo sighs, her stomach turning from the revelation. A young boy, left behind in one world and taken in by the next. 

It’s not entirely bad to be alone with something that now can rely on pure latent ability. For a parasite to care for the host. 

The host has no choice, despite the harm that has been done. It cannot say when, so the parasite continues to feed, until there’s nothing left. 

When she saw the beings again out by the rice paddies during the low hours of the evening, where the hues of orange merged into the inky night sky, she knew she had to leave quickly. Momo ran back inside, dropping her pail and bucket on the ground. 

“Granny,” Momo calls, kicking her dusty shoes off. “I see people out in the fields.” 

Her grandmother’s pipe blows a puff of smoke. She heard the sound of the old television playing a laugh track from one of her series. 

“People?” 

“Yes, they’re out there again. I think they want to speak to you,” she said. Momo doesn’t know why, but she recalls the sensation of cool air not according to the summer weather here in Kamigoe City. 

Her grandmother glanced at her, her eyebrows pinched together. “Momo, stay here.” 

She watched as her grandmother rose from the tatami to head towards the entry way. 

“If you hear me knock, Momo, don’t answer.” 

“What? Why?” 

Her grandmother squinted, staring at the maneki-neko at the entry. “If I have to knock without just coming inside, then it’s not me.” 

Momo feels her tiny heart race, already uncomfortable with her grandmother going out into the darkness. “I won’t open it, I promise."

When her grandmother turns away, she fears this is the last time she'll see her. "Please, come back, Granny," she mumbled.

“I will, it’ll be quick. Momo, one more thing…” 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t look outside while I’m out.” 

That evening and the next, after her grandmother had been gone, she remained inside the entirety of the time. 

Momo would lay on the cold tatami, awaiting for her grandmother's return. It felt like weeks had passed, but it was merely two nights. 

She knew enough to take care of herself, but she knows wherever her grandmother went, there were possibly spirits there too. Her routines were simple enough; she'd wake, she'd eat, and she'd bathe. If anything, she'd clean and wash the dishes. It's enough and she would continue to wait.

Her grandmother was bound to return. If she continued to do her chores, then surely, she would come soon.

When the shoji slid open, Momo knew. She returned.

Her grandmother stepped into the entrance, looking slightly frazzled, but altogether calm. 

“Granny!” Momo ran up to her, letting her tiny body hold onto the warmth of the sole person that’s been with her since infancy. The relief she felt was insurmountable.

“You came back, I’m so glad.” 

Her grandmother returned the affection easily. When Momo leaned away, she saw her grandmother's hands. The tips of her fingers were blackened, looking burnt and bloody. 

Momo's eyes widened. “What happened?” 

Her grandmother didn’t say anything else, but she told Momo to wash up, and that she’d go into her room for the moment. 

Momo never asked her about that evening. All she knows is that when she would play outside during the twilight hours, the figures never showed up again. 

The fields somehow looked even more horrifying without them. 

An emptiness that she could never quite place. 

When the morning finally comes, Momo is welcomed by the sounds of Ken scurrying around.

He walks in a hunch, not quite standing on just his two legs. He seems to be more comfortable in the position he held when she met him that day before. 

Momo approaches him, making enough noise that he knows she’s there. “Is Turbo Granny still with you?” she asks. 

He looks up at her, rising up from his haunches, his posture still very much the same.

Ken lifts some of his hair, revealing the spirit tucked away by his shoulder. Momo blinks, surprised that the yokai can even sleep. But, she supposes, that maybe that’s why she heard him all night. 

Turbo Granny essentially takes on all of his basic necessities, she’s noticed. 

He’s eaten, but she hasn’t seen him sleep. 

Not yet. 

Momo smiles at him. She thinks it’s a bit difficult without her phone to contact her grandmother, and without even getting back to the main city she’s stuck here for the time being with Ken and Turbo Granny. 

“So, did you want to come back with me to the shrine? My grandmother may know how to fix you…” 

He presses his lips together, his sigh soft. He doesn’t say much, but she knows he’s disagreeing with her. Does he really want to stay attached to Turbo Granny? 

If it’s parasitic, he may have some repercussions to his physical state. 

His aura from what she saw has been entirely overtaken by Turbo Granny’s flood of black and red. She can’t help but think that maybe there is no way out for him. That this Ken Takakura won’t get to have freedom. 

Unless this is the kind of position he wants? His life had been lonely before. Momo doesn’t quite know exactly how it feels, but she can sympathize. She can recall the few times she's been left to her own devices when granny would leave the shrine. 

Maybe he’s been desperate for something to give him a meaning, even if it means destroying his own sense of self. 

His hands unfurl in front of her and he offers her something. It’s tiny and she squints, trying to make out what it is with a bit of light. He gently pushes it towards her, and when Momo takes it from him she can see it’s the button to something.

“Is this yours?” she asks. 

He shrugs, waving his hand away. He’s got quite the personality that she can tell. 

His expressions are enough to give away what he’s thinking. 

She laughs lightly. “I see, okay, does it hurt to talk?” 

He scratches underneath his chin and he makes a motion with his hand. Almost as if to say “kind of.” 

She nods, feeling a bit better now that she can communicate somewhat with him. Momo really needs to take him back to granny's to see if there’s anything she could do. 

But, maybe there isn’t. 

There’s always that thought. That sometimes there is nothing to be done.

She wonders if a human and a yokai can remain attached for so long or would they just deteriorate slowly? 

Momo’s chest feels like someone is pushing inward. She doesn’t want that to happen to Ken. 

She thinks it's best to get to know him, to at least give him a sense of normalcy from the time he’s spent here. 

He’s been cooped up with a crotchety yokai and no other interaction to show for it. She holds out her hand and offers him a smile. 

“I’m Momo Ayase,” she introduces. “I know I probably should’ve done that first before… peeking inside your memories. Sorry about that…” 

She bites her lip, waiting to see what he does. Ken eyes her warily, but then he reaches out to her, his longer fingers, and even sharper nails ghost over her palm. 

Momo takes what she can get, and she nods at him. “I hope we can be friends.” 

The morning light rises higher then, cascading the room in an orange glow. Ken’s face, inside the maw of the mask, is gentle. He looks almost relieved to hear the words. 

His two hands swallow her own in between his. And she knows despite the lack of verbal communication, that he very much agrees. 

While Turbo Granny seems to take the entire morning to rest, Momo figures she could begin talking to him more. She helps pick up around the area, feeling much more rejuvenated after snacking on some items that Ken had stored somewhere. 

The water he gave her was lukewarm, but she’s not complaining. She should be heading back into town soon, but she doesn’t want to leave him here. 

She’d need to charge her phone and then hopefully contact her grandmother. She would need to detail that she found a yokai dwelling inside a living being and that the relationship between them could be one of enchantment. 

Of something that couldn't be broken, even with infinite possibilities. 

Where would Ken go? 

Could he go back? 

Does she help him find his family even though they had left him there, even before the storm?

He had been alone. 

It wouldn’t be okay to just let him wander this life without anyone to guide him. Not that he couldn’t do it, but she thinks about how lonely it must be to exist outside of the world in a space so empty. One where there’s nothing but destruction left from the spirits who came during that evening. 

She has to stop thinking for him, Momo decides. He’s also present beside her, if he wants to remain here or to go with her, it’s not just up to her.

He also has a decision. 

Turbo Granny finally awakens from her sleep, coming out from underneath the unruly mess of hair. 

“You’re still here, girl?” Turbo Granny asks, sounding unenthused with her. 

Momo rolls her eyes. “I have a home to get back to. I was meant to cleanse the area here, but it looks like I couldn’t have done anything.” 

“You could’ve. That Ōmagatoki will be returning soon enough. They host them every time there is a full moon.” 

Momo raises a brow. “The next full moon already passed last night.” She crosses her arms. 

Turbo Granny doesn’t seem impressed by that. “Are you going to usher us back into society? They’ll see a boy that’s no longer human.” 

Momo shakes her head. “It’s his choice, I’m not going to force him.” 

She gestures to Ken who doesn’t seem like he’s been listening, only hovering in the shadows, while Turbo Granny’s energy seems to come off him in ripples. 

“Boy,” Turbo Granny calls. “Your choice. You can stay here and rot or go with the girl.” 

He wrinkles his eyebrows, looking at Turbo Granny and then back at Momo. 

She doesn’t know why, but the moment his eyes meet hers, it’s the first time she’s seen them. 

Momo doesn’t think he’s ever actually looked her in the eyes before. 

Not this directly. 

He glances back, his hands twitching beside him, and Turbo Granny’s sigh is loud, almost indignant. 

“The kid wants to go with you, says he’s been thinking about going back to the world of humans for awhile.” 

Momo stares at him, his eyes glancing away. His entire visage is shadowed by the mask outside of him. 

“Then let’s go be people,” she says.

The trek back into the nearby town from the abandoned site is easy enough. Ken stays close to her, Turbo Granny making snide remarks that only she’s able to hear. 

She considers that maybe he’s ignoring his companions' crude thoughts. “She’s always like that?” Momo wonders, trying to get him involved with the conversation. 

She thinks about what it must be like to be so lost beneath rubble and disarray. For the world to continue spinning without knowing of your existence or your own survival.

She’s surprised Turbo Granny even wants to head back with her. Although with the hag's consistent nagging, she knows it’s because whatever it is keeping her in check is probably because of the boy before her. 

“He wants to make you an offer, says walking back to Kamigoe will take too long,” Turbo Granny says out loud. 

She almost looks disgusted, judging by her face. 

Momo’s noticing she has the default expression set to a permanent sneer. Typical. 

“Well, what is it?” she prompts.

Momo does not expect to be on his back. She makes a startled noise when he rises up in a full runner's stance.

He seems to huff out a laugh, but Turbo Granny reveals herself from the bundle of his hair. “He’s like your personal taxi after twenty-four hours.” 

The two of them make twin noises of annoyance at that. 

“I guess if this is convenient for you? Is it…” she feels weird calling him by his name. Ken Takakura. 

She tries to think of something to fill the space. “Is it?” she repeats again. 

Momo can’t see his face at the angle she’s in but he shrugs his shoulders, jostling her. 

Well, that explains that. 

“So, is this what we're doing to get back?" she wonders. This is odd.

“It’s going to be to show off his speed more than anything. Mind you, he’s using my abilities,” Turbo Granny declares proudly. 

Momo rolls her eyes. “Some abilities if you’re a yokai who gave them to a human.” 

Turbo Granny clacks her teeth together. At least that keeps her quiet, but she can still hear the snake’s grumbling grievances. 

Momo doesn’t quite know where to put her hands, so she tries to push them into the long tresses of his hair. 

“Does this hurt?” she asks him softly, trying to peek around to see his face, but she can’t seem to make out the expression there. 

He shakes his head in response and Momo feels much better about the acknowledgement. 

“Girl,” Turbo Granny’s voice comes. 

“Hm?” 

“Use your abilities to show him where to go. He’ll need it.” 

Momo has to bite her tongue from making a GPS joke. She did just get onto Turbo Granny for calling her his taxi. 

“Link your aura to his and direct him. He’ll know.” 

She considers it for a moment, but then she has to ask him. “My abilities are a bit invasive, I’m sorry if what I saw in your memories wasn’t what I needed to see.” 

“This isn’t the time for an apology!” Turbo Granny snaps, muttering obscenities. 

“Anyway, will this be okay if I do that for you?” 

She wants to give him the choice. Momo understands how difficult it can be to have someone make decisions for you. 

Whenever she had begun her training underneath her grandmother, at times she didn’t feel like wearing the traditional garb or growing out her hair. 

She didn’t want to be confined to the shrine, but as she recalls growing older as she did. There’s values in keeping with tradition, in what her grandmother has raised her to be. 

Even with everything before her, her whole life ahead of her. Being a part of her grandmother's world and the spirits have never been unwelcoming. 

She wants Ken Takakura, the boy, the unknown specter from the village, to make this decision. 

He nods finally, very carefully. 

Turbo Granny exhales and Momo focuses her aura, all of her sight on the one before her. She can show him a map easily. 

Kamigoe City is Ayase territory after all. 

The wind rushes past them in a blur of sights and sounds. It’s quick, almost unbelievably so. Momo has to duck her head, hiding her face in the straw-like sensation of his hair. 

She focuses on directing him further to the spot in Kamigoe City where he can get to the countryside. They take a back way around the city so no one can spot them playing the weird game of chicken. 

Her knowledge of Kamigoe comes easy to her. It’s been her life, the place she’s lived since she was an infant. 

The same land that granted her the respect and the powers she has. She’s certain of it whenever her grandmother speaks to her on the history of Kamigoe City. 

This land operates with the pulse of their god. “The god of the land remains within the auras you can see, Momo. Those are pieces, just a simple sight of what it’s given you.” 

Momo’s memories are disrupted when she remembers the boy can see them. Ken, she needs to remind herself to not call him boy. 

Life carries on and they finally reach a spot away from the city and the people. 

They finally meet down a long, familiar dirt road. 

Once Momo gears up to get off his back, he lowers himself so she doesn’t make the leap. 

“He’s being considerate, you know,” Turbo Granny tells her. Ken’s brows furrow when Momo glances his way. 

“I could’ve figured that.” 

When they finally approach the shrine, Momo holds out her hand, looking above the torii gate to see the wards placed there. She glances back at Turbo Granny and Ken, worried a bit about what could happen. 

“Hold on, you two stay there,” she tells them. 

“Feh, girl, you better hurry your ass up!” Turbo Granny shouts. Momo scowls back at her, running quickly and sliding the shoji aside. 

“Gran?” 

There’s no baketono or anything playing from the living room. Shit, she thinks. She may just need to remove the wards, but that will only cause issues. 

Momo tries to think of what she could do to help with the entry of a heavily warded shrine. If Ken and Turbo Granny step inside, they may burst into flames. She doesn’t want that for them, but if she were to remove the wards–it’s a risk for anything outside of the shrine to see it as a free for all. 

When Momo steps back out of the home, she sees the shoji of the smaller shrine for ceremonies slightly ajar. 

Momo jogs over lightly, peeking her head in. “Granny?” 

“What?” 

Momo jumps when she turns to see her grandmother there, looking positively agitated. Damn, she hasn’t even told her what she brought back. 

“You scared me!” she tells her, clutching the front of her shirt. She tries to see where Ken and Turbo Granny are, but it looks like they’re distracting themselves by the rice paddies. 

“Um, there’s something I have to show you…” Momo mutters, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

She’s been tasked to take up the basic cleansing calls for her grandmother, not bring home a yokai. 

Momo winces when her grandmother’s gaze slides over to the figures out by the fields. 

“So, she’s there isn’t she?” 

“Huh?” Momo’s confused now. She looks at Ken and his leech out by the gate again. “Who?” 

“Turbo Granny, she’s latched herself onto another human again,” Seiko slips her hand from underneath the sleeve of her miko gear. She pulls out one of her smokes. “I can’t remove the wards so they can’t come in.” 

“What? I mean there has to be a way, right?” 

Her grandmother puffs some smoke out, but doesn’t seem the least bit interested in what Momo’s saying. 

“No, there’s not. The yokai and the kid can’t come in. She’s fully latched herself to him.” 

Momo frowns. “So, we can’t do anything for them?” 

Her heart drops. She doesn’t think it’s fair. It’s not his fault for being out during the evening of the Ōmagatoki and then ultimately striking a deal with a yokai. He had been lonely, there’s no fault in trying to find solace. Especially as a child. 

“We have to remove the parasite from the host,” her grandmother says. She leans against the post of the shrine. “That’s the only way to do it.” 

“So an exorcism?” 

“Judging by how it looks to me, I can tell Turbo Granny’s burrowed herself deep into the boy. I can’t even pick apart his own energy anymore.” 

Momo deflates. “Would he have to live like that?” 

Her grandmother’s eyebrows twitch. “Depends on what he wants. If we try to remove Turbo Granny, it could very well put him under. Who knows if we can bring him back.” 

“So, there’s no chance for him? Or even that hag?” 

“They wanted it, didn’t they? The two of them were looking for something, I’ve only ever seen yokai and human partnerships like this one whenever a yokai is desperate. A longing they can’t even quite place.” 

“To be human again? Or is that…” 

Her grandmother sighs deeply, a heavy one. “I know she can hear me…” her voice trails off. Now, sounding more assured, she adds, “I’ll take down the wards, but Momo, be on your guard.” 

“What?” 

She never gets a response in return, just waits until her grandmother removes each individual ward from the shrine before the other two can enter. 

Once it’s completed, she tells Momo to go out and to bring them in. 

When Ken and Turbo Granny cross the threshold of the shrine, they do not burst into flame, but they are both wincing a bit. 

“Damn mikos and their spiritual blessings,” Turbo Granny mutters. 

The snake form tucks herself back into the length of hair under Ken. 

Momo looks at him. “Are you okay? You’re not feeling bad?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Momo, tell them to come inside. I need to make dinner.” 

Momo holds her hand out. Maybe he’s not too fond of touch, since he’s been away from all forms of social contact. 

She’s surprised when his hand swallows her own, but he takes it in his gently, still peeking at her from underneath the maw of his mask.

Momo smiles as he is. 

When things settle well into the evening, Momo realizes the weird tension between her grandmother and Turbo Granny may have been something from her past. It's been a long silence between the two of them.

She doesn’t really take any notes about it, but she considers whatever history went on between them was possibly a messy one. She can see it in their side comments and the lack of acknowledging each other. 

Momo looks at Ken, taking in his appearance more now that they’re in natural light. He’s still definitely gaunt, maybe even a little pallid from being hidden away for so long. He doesn’t seem to bother with chopsticks because of his hands, or maybe it’s more of his nails. She hasn’t quite figured out what could be the hang up, but he does carefully eat his meal with the sharpness of his nails. 

She tries not to stare too long, tries not to do too much of anything that could seem rude.

But Momo’s happy he won’t be alone now. 

In the evening, when the darkness grows and the wards are back up, Momo stumbles out into the night to see Ken looking up at the evening sky. She wonders if he thinks of other people out there, extraterrestrials she’s seen from his memories.

She’s not usually the one to believe in things like that, but well, she’s seen stuff that she can’t even begin to describe. So, maybe it's best to hold off her judgement. 

There’s a lot she doesn’t know about the world around her, or rather, the world itself and its machinations. 

Here’s a boy who is essentially considered dead to life–he existed, but now is a ghost himself. Did anyone ever come looking for that little boy? 

Did his parents or his remaining family even think of him at all? 

He turns then, probably hearing her presence. “Hey,” she says. 

Ken gives her a gentle wave, his long fingers tucking themselves back to his side. 

“I know this is probably a weird situation to be in.” Conversation is good, she recalls. She can get him to be as comfortable as he needs because of everything that's happened to him. 

She understands. She can extend a hand to him. It’s what her grandmother has taught her in spiritual work. 

Even then, she doesn’t fully believe she exorcised those spirits that lingered by the rice paddies. 

She’s certain her grandmother gave them a different direction to head towards. 

A new space for them to exist. The Ayase’s can give this lost boy the same if need be. Even if the evil spirit beside him essentially damned his DNA. 

“Are you doing okay?” she asks, trying to fill in space. 

They can figure it out, they can manage a way for him to exist now in the world, even if there are some drawbacks. 

To be spiritually intertwined with something for so long, especially Turbo Granny as a result. 

She’s sure the life he’s led has been an odd and difficult path. 

Ken responds lightly, usually in hand gestures or his facial expressions that she can see from his eyes above the maw. 

She thinks it must be nice to have something built in for protection. It does give a fun quality to him. She’s reminded a bit of those porcupines. 

The moment between them is silent and she respects it, the way he’s able to give her things to respond to. He’ll point or he’ll look up at the sky, almost as if he wants to say something more. 

But whatever is going on with Turbo Granny’s curse restricts him from doing so. She can take this easily. It’s nothing she’s not unused to. 

Spirits communicate in gestures as well, so he’s not any different. 

Momo cherishes the bits and pieces that she can see glimmer through from Ken. 

Ken doesn't feel like Ken though. 

She may have to brainstorm a nickname. That will give him power. A name that can give him a new life. 

The night drags on and Momo can’t quite sleep. Her grandmother had suggested for Ken to sleep in one of the guest rooms, and all she can think about is how long it’s been since he could’ve had time to rest. 

She tosses and turns. All she can see in her dreams is a monstrous maw and sharp nails. Eyes that are too round and piercing enough to look inside of her. 

Momo can’t sleep. She’s worried about him. 

It’s not like she could do anything for him, but she could at least try and maybe comfort him during this time. 

Would it be wrong if she were to check on him? 

Her grandmother gave no restrictions, so obviously, it’d be fine? 

Is it naive to think she won’t be harmed…?

She shakes the thought away. He’s not a weapon, he’s just a lonely soul entrapped with a yokai. 

Not everyone can live to tell the tale. 

So she decides to go.

What Momo feels is an odd miasma of power at the end of the corridor. It seems to completely pulse inside of her, awakening her abilities. It presses harshly against her and Momo pursues it further.

She walks further down past her room. The home is quiet save for a few wooden creaks from the tatami. The wind is quiet, and there’s a soft call of an owl heard. 

When she continues to walk down the corridor to the guest room, there’s the familiar push again. The room at the end glows red–vibrant and violent. 

The darkness does not yield to it. 

Momo knows then, in her heart of hearts, that it must be Ken. 

There’s something soft calling to her, telling her to run–an instinctual warning of her own self-preservation. She remembers her own power can vibrate beneath, can move towards the red and snuff it out. 

When Momo slides the door open, she’s bathed in the agitated coloring of red swirling angrily above her. The darkness curls at the top, limbs flayed and contorted. The massive jaw hung open for her to see. 

“Hey!” she calls to the form above her, the shape of Ken’s body scurrying against the ceiling. The whiteness of his hair rooted, spreading forth like veins bulging from skin. She’s frozen then, seeing him above her, his jaw unhinging like a snake. 

“Ken!” The sound of his name does not stir him, but it does propel him forward as he drops from above to land on her, the white of his teeth digging into her arm.

The sounds are muted–everything is ringing strongly–white noise overlapping against her voice. 

She’s a distorted image along with him as she feels the wound grow in on itself. There’s sludge, blackened like ink, pushing through into her skin. Momo tries to call out to him, her voice failing her as the eyes beneath the mask glow yellow, ridged lines like the one Turbo Granny’s snake form has. 

There’s only darkness and a burning pain. 

When Momo wakes up, startled and alone in her room, she knows it wasn't real.

But her arm stings from the memory of white teeth on her skin. 

The days following after, she hangs around Ken, showing him her magazines. There’s a lot of attempts to find out who he really was before the devastation of his village by the tunnel. 

Momo ends up finding older articles on a young man that went missing from there. 

Ken Takakura, age eight. 

The family had assumed he passed in the storm, never finding his remains. She wonders if she could help him find them. There’s no reason they would’ve left this child there all alone. 

She doesn’t fully believe he was abandoned. 

So, she pockets it for later, jotting notes down to try and figure out ways to keep him accommodated to life at the shrine. 

He reads some of her manga and she even helps him learn how to write again, guiding him to pick up his pencil despite the initial awkwardness at handling a pen because of his long nails.

Momo notices his fascination with one segment of the magazines, and he points to a log where you can purchase a subscription. 

One of the subscriptions included Mystery Mu, which she doesn’t read. But he seems excited about it with the way he eagerly looks at her, his smile coming through just vaguely. 

A gentle expression.

She decides to get it for him and his fascination with the occult continues on. 

Momo decides to call him Okarun, because that is a name that can give him meaning. 

The name of the boy she knows now. 

With the blurring of each moment, she realizes whatever is between her grandmother and Turbo Granny is entrenched with history. Not that she wants to know what happened between the two of them. 

She tries to ask Okarun, but he merely shrugs. She’s been around him more now, existing with him in such a quiet life now that he’s here with them at the shrine. 

Her grandmother has been able to keep them both in check between using the wards and the curse itself. 

There’s methods she could use, but she’ll try for a simple one for both of their sakes. One of them being, where Okarun sits in a chair with his feet in a large tub of water. 

“Momo, go get something, it can be anything,” she commands. 

She goes to look when she overhears Turbo Granny. “Don’t let the girl get something ridiculous to put me inside! We don’t even know if this’ll work.” 

Her grandmother says something when she swipes to grab the maneki-neko at the entrance. Turbo Granny’s complaints are louder when her grandmother holds up the paper fan. 

“Wait, wait, wait! Seiko!” Her grandmother ignores the complaints as Okarun shuts his eyes. She winces when the first contact is made. 

Then again and again. 

They wait silently while Okarun falls forward onto the tatami. A prolonged silence. His hair is still unruly, the maw of his mask still on him. Not much has changed. 

“Turbo Granny?” Momo calls out softly. The three of them peer at the maneki-neko, when they begin to see it physically sweat. 

“Son of a bitch!” And it’s her alright. It’s Turbo Granny. 

Her grandmother throws her head back and laughs. “I can’t believe it. Looks like we pulled her out of four eyes.” 

Turbo Granny flails aggressively, irritated and even more angry at the suggestion of her remaining in that form. 

“You made the deal with the kid, you help him figure it out," Momo says smugly.

Turbo Granny huffs, struggling to climb up the top of the table. “Hey, shitheel, listen.” 

Momo and Okarun glance at each other, then back at her. 

“I think you absorbed way too much of my spiritual ability with whatever you got, so you’re going to have to live with it.” 

There’s a loud thwap and Turbo Granny is facedown. “That ain’t a good response!” her grandmother retorts. 

“He’s gotta figure it out himself! It’s what he wanted anyways, to come back to being a person," Turbo Granny argues.

Momo sighs, watching the two of them go about it. She turns to him then, curious at what he may be thinking. “Will that be okay?” 

Okarun’s eyes look away. He doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t know if he can. 

Momo takes his silence as response enough. 

Momo figures that Okarun seems happier now. He’s in regular clothes that he borrows from her–clean ones and not the rags he was wearing previously. 

She keeps his hair tied back now. She knows it gets in the way of his reading, or even when he’s trying to study after she helped him pick back up all of the schooling he wasn’t able to finish. 

It’s gotta be making him feel something, maybe more at peace now with how things can develop. 

For his sake. 

Momo considers finding his family and bringing back their son. She tries to ask her grandmother or even Turbo Granny, but the response to that has been negative overall. 

She doesn’t know what else she could do. 

So, she decides to ask him, when they’re done cleaning the shrine. “Okarun,” she calls to him. 

He freezes, his hands still horribly large like claws, holding tightly onto the broom. She doesn’t want to remember the weird dream she had of him on the ceiling, or the one time she did see him moving in the dark in a way that was unnatural. 

Okarun peeks at her, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. 

“Do you miss your family? Did you want to go home?” 

There’s gotta be some way he can get back. 

Something. Anything.

Okarun’s brow creases together though, and he looks pensive for a long time. He shakes his head then, his eyes watering over. 

She knows the answer is one she won’t like.

She finds his family; they've been living out in a more populated area of Saitama for some time. Momo doesn’t know what to do then, but she stares at the address for a long time. 

Could Okarun go back to the world? After everything, after years of being in the situation he’s been in?

She visualizes that lonely boy, so similar to her, that waited for her grandmother to come back when she went to guide those spirits by the rice paddies. 

Except no one came back and he never even tried to return either. 

Momo’s mouth twists, her chest aching. He deserves this, he deserves his life back. 

When Momo tells him in the evening that she found his family, he’s stunned. His eyes go wide and he seems to curl into himself. 

“Only…I thought maybe you’d want to go back…” Momo hesitates then. Is it presumptuous to think he wants to go back? They do think he’s dead. 

That he’s been gone from this world for so long. 

Okarun grows eerily quiet, unmoving through the initial offer. 

She doesn’t know what else to say. Maybe he’s upset that she assumed what he wanted. 

“If it’s something… I just thought maybe you’d want to return home.” 

Okarun reaches his hand out, and she can see the years of scars on his skin. She knows that a part of him will still be something like the undead. He’s a specter through and through. 

Momo tightens her grip around his hand, not wanting to let him go. But it’s necessary if she needs to. 

It’s possible. It can happen. 

She can see his Adam's apple bobbing and then he speaks.

Momo has heard his voice a couple of times before. 

But it surprises her even now. 

“I can’t go back, Miss Ayase…” it’s raspy, rough from years of no use. 

She tears up, feeling like she’s failed him. It’s what she’s wanted, for him to stay after all. 

But it feels like there’s no closure for him, that he’ll be stuck in a limbo. Is this the life he really wants? 

“You want to stay here? If you don’t want to go back, what if you can… be yourself again.” 

He gives her a sad smile, his hand still on hers. The mask is a part of him, this form is a part of him. 

How could she forget that? 

His family probably never even tried looking for him, the bits of himself gone since the day that storm swept through his home. His life had ended then, but it can begin now. 

“I want to stay here,” he reiterates, his eyes glassy. He coughs then, while she apologizes through the wetness of her own tears. 

There’s something to be said, a freedom in itself to get the choice again. She can at least keep comfort in that. “I know it’s not what you intended,” she tells him softly. 

“But I’m glad you’re staying," she finishes.

It’s a quiet moment beneath the shrine. Two small people giving each other a gentle hope. 

“I am too,” he adds softly, clearing his throat. He nods again, keeping her gaze. 

Momo can only take his response at face value. If this is the life he wishes, then so be it. 

Navigating her life with the boy from the demolished village is one thing, but living with his also weird parasite is a whole other story. 

Turbo Granny and Okarun make their lives in the Ayase shrine. Two specters receiving another way of living. 

Momo’s certain that it’s never been louder. 

She catches Okarun’s gaze from across the table. The smile he gives her from beneath the mask is radiant. 

There’s a peace in normalcy.