The hallway outside Class 2-B stretched long and bright under the fluorescent ceiling lights. The linoleum floor gleamed, freshly waxed, carrying the faint sharp scent of cleaning solution. Chalk dust lingered in the air, mixing with the faint perfume trail left behind by a group of girls who had just hurried past. From the open windows, the constant buzz of cicadas spilled in, blending with the rising chatter of students gathering for morning classes.
Kōki stood just outside the classroom door, back stiff against the frame. His phone pressed tightly against his ear while his other hand twitched restlessly at his side. His fingernail scraped against his lip as he bit down anxiously, eyes darting toward the doorway every few seconds, wary of eavesdroppers.
"Come on, pick up," he muttered, his voice a hushed growl as his shoulders tensed.
The call connected with a faint click.
"Hello, this is Deacon Crowe speaking." The voice on the other end was firm, flat, with an undertone of irritation.
Kōki straightened, exhaling in relief. "Crowe, I need your help with something."
"Oh. It's just you, kid." Raikou's tone soured instantly. "What is it this time? You didn't call me just to waste my time, did you?"
"I'm serious," Kōki said sharply, his grip tightening around the phone. "There's a girl in my class—she's being haunted by something. And it's not just some ordinary ghost. She believes it's evil… dangerous." His voice quickened, frustration edging through. "I can't see it, I can't even sense it myself, and you know I'm not blind to these things. But one thing's certain—" he drew in a shallow breath, lowering his tone, "—it's there. It's clinging to her. Watching her every move."
"I didn't give you my number so you could call whenever you felt like it," Raikou snapped, his voice edged with irritation. "I gave it to you for one reason—to report if you found any leads on the Cultists. That's it. I don't have the time—or the patience—for your little side missions involving classmates."
Damn, he's stubborn, Kōki thought, clenching his fist at his side. But another thought flickered across his mind: Raikou's obsession with the Cultists wasn't just protocol—it was personal. That meant… he had leverage. He forced himself to take a breath, loosening his grip before speaking again.
"Listen carefully," he said, his tone hardening. "This spirit isn't just following her—it's tormenting her. It's already managed to possess her once. And now… it feels like it's draining her life away, like it's trying to push her toward ending it all." His words came out fast, sharp, almost trembling with urgency.
He tightened his gaze, voice rising. "Isn't this your job? To exorcise evil spirits, send them to the underworld, protect humans from them? You said it yourself the first time we met! Or—" his teeth ground together, "—are you just another fraud, like every other so-called exorcist?"
"Watch your mouth." Raikou's voice sharpened, irritation rising. "You saw me nearly erase your ghost friend earlier today. Don't test me, kid."
"If you're not a fraud, then prove it!" Kōki's voice rang with raw intensity, his grip tightening on the phone. "Get rid of that spirit. Show me you can actually do it. Then maybe—maybe I'll have enough confidence to risk my life for Sayoko, to retrieve her body from those Cultists you're so obsessed with hunting down."
His breath came heavier, his words cutting sharper. "If I can't place absolute trust in your ability, then tell me—why the hell should I put myself in danger?"
There was a pause. Silence stretched long enough for the cicadas' buzz outside to slip into Kōki's ear, louder than before. Then Raikou gave a low, reluctant chuckle.
"…Hmph. You've got some nerve. I didn't expect you to pick up on that much. For a high schooler, you're annoyingly sharp." His voice shifted, losing some of its edge. "Fine. You make your point. I'll handle your classmate's spirit. But it won't be free. I'll need something in return."
Kōki exhaled, easing the tension in his shoulders. "Fine. Then it's settled. I'll send you my address. Just get here before it's too late."
"I'll be there," Raikou replied flatly, before the line cut off.
Lowering the phone, Kōki let out a slow breath, shoving it into his pocket. His pulse still ran fast in his ears. He turned and stepped back inside the classroom.
Near the window in his classroom, Kureha sat alone, her hands folded stiffly on her desk. Her skin looked pale under the morning light, her lips pressed thin as her gaze drifted somewhere far away. The faint sound of chairs scraping and chatter filled the room as more students poured in, but she barely seemed aware of them.
Kōki approached quickly, his steps clipped. "Kurobane."
Her head turned slowly toward him.
"I just spoke with someone—someone who can help. I can't explain everything now, but…" His words trailed as he glanced around at the curious looks of nearby classmates. He lowered his voice. "You'll just have to trust me. After school, meet me at the school gate."
Kureha's tired eyes blinked once, then she gave a faint nod. "Yes… I will." Her voice was soft, drained, but a thin spark of hope flickered in her expression.
The rest of the day dragged on under the usual hum of classes. When it finally ended, Kōki slipped away from the flow and stopped beside the bicycle rack's shadow, out of the main path. He set his bag down and glanced around once. "Sayoko. Takuto."
The air cooled by a few degrees. A faint distortion pressed at his ears, like pressure during a dive. Sayoko's form came into view first at his right shoulder, hair settling without wind. Takuto emerged a heartbeat later above the rail, floating at eye level with his hands tucked behind his head.
"Sayoko, Takuto—did either of you manage to see the spirit Kureha was talking about?" Kōki asked, lowering his voice.
"Nope, didn't see a thing," Takuto said, hovering lazily at Kōki's side with his arms folded. A crooked grin spread across his face. "But if there really is some evil spirit making her look the way she does now… then I guess I owe her an apology. That crack I made about her looking like a zombie—yeah, I'll take it back. Before I get reborn and she comes to curse me."
Kōki shot him an exasperated look, but Takuto only smirked.
"Kōki-kun, your spiritual awareness… it's high," Sayoko said, frowning, tilting her head slightly as if listening for something Kōki couldn't hear. "If there really was an evil spirit, it shouldn't be able to hide from you completely. Something's… off. I can feel it."
She paused, letting the words hang, then leaned slightly closer, her tone lowering. "Could it be… that Kurobane is making this up? To get closer to you?"
"I feel it too… you're not wrong," Kōki said, rubbing the back of his neck briefly, eyes narrowing as he scanned the thinning crowd around them. "But… that girl—she's clearly exhausted, scared. She even told me she's been thinking about ending her life. As frustrating as this is, I can't just ignore it."
He straightened, letting his gaze settle firmly on Sayoko and Takuto. "I need to see for myself."
Sayoko lowered her gaze, her lips tightening. A shadow of unease lingered in her expression. "…Why is he so focused on her?" she murmured under her breath, almost inaudible.
Before Kōki could respond, a quiet voice broke in from behind him.
"I'm here."
Kōki jumped, spinning around. Kureha stood just a step away, her school bag gripped tightly in both hands. Her pale face was unreadable, giving nothing away—not an apology, not a hint of guilt.
Kōki let out a shaky breath, one hand pressed to his chest. "How do you keep sneaking up on me like that?"
"You were too busy talking to your ghosts to notice your surroundings," Kureha said evenly, her voice calm but firm. She adjusted the strap on her bag, the leather squeaking faintly under her fingers. "That's why it seems like I just appeared."
Kōki's mouth twitched, half a smile forming despite his unease. Creepy way of putting it… he muttered under his breath.
Takuto drifted closer, hovering beside him, a faint grin on his face. "She's got you there, Kōki."
Sayoko hovered slightly above, arms loosely folded, her eyes flicking between Kōki and Kureha. Her gaze lingered on Kōki just a moment too long, a faint tension in her posture betraying her unease. Whenever Kureha spoke, Sayoko's attention snapped back to her, just slightly more alert than necessary.
She didn't fully understand why, but having Kureha so close to Kōki… bothered her.