The sun streamed into the apartment, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. For the first time, the safe house felt like a home. At the center of the dining table, the complete tea set sat with a quiet, dignified presence, looking as if it had always been there.
Aiko poured two cups of tea, her movements slow and deliberate. She and Kaito sat opposite each other, the silence between them comfortable and deep. The tension of the last few weeks had been replaced by a quiet, shared understanding. He had risked his life for her happiness, for the happiness of a tiny spirit. The knowledge of that settled deep in her heart, a warm and solid anchor.
"It's happy," Aiko said softly, nodding towards the teapot. She could still feel its contentment, a steady, warm hum in the back of her mind.
"As it should be," Kaito replied, a small smile touching his lips. He took a sip of tea. "But your lessons are not over. You made contact with a Tsukumogami, a spirit bound to an object. Now you must learn to speak with a spirit that has a will of its own."
He led her back to the hidden library. The room felt less like a classroom now and more like a shared space.
"Many yokai are not part of our clan," he explained, "but they live under our protection. They are neighbors, allies... and sometimes, pests." He walked to the center of the room and lit a single stick of sweet-smelling incense. "You do not summon a spirit like this. You invite it. You show it that your home is a safe, welcoming place."
He stepped back and stood beside Aiko. They waited in silence. A minute passed. Then another. Just as Aiko was about to ask if it was working, she saw it. Peeking out from behind a tall bookshelf was the small figure of a child. It was about the size of a five-year-old, dressed in a simple, old-fashioned kimono, with a neat bob of black hair. The figure was slightly transparent, and it held a small red ball in its hands.
"A Zashiki-warashi," Kaito whispered, his voice barely a breath. "A child spirit. They are shy, but bring great fortune to the house they inhabit. Be gentle. They are fond of sweets."
He pressed a small, brightly wrapped candy into Aiko's palm. "An offering. A sign of respect. It opens the door."
Aiko's heart beat a little faster, but it was with excitement, not fear. She slowly approached, then knelt on the floor a few feet away from the bookshelf, so she wouldn't seem intimidating. She placed the candy on the floor between them.
Closing her eyes, she didn't try to speak. She remembered her lesson. She projected a feeling of welcome. Hello. Our home is your home. Thank you for visiting. She thought of how it might feel to be a child, the simple joy of a new toy or a sweet treat.
She felt a response. A wave of childish curiosity and shyness. An image flashed in her mind: Kaito, but as a small, serious-faced boy, leaving a piece of candy on the step of a shrine. The spirit knew him. It had watched him grow up.
A feeling of playfulness followed. The spirit was asking a question, not in words, but in feeling. Want to play?
Aiko smiled, her eyes still closed. She sent back a feeling of gentle affirmation. Yes.
She was having a silent conversation with a ghost child. The wonder of it was breathtaking. But mixed with the spirit's playful energy, she felt another, more skittish feeling. It was showing her something else. An image. A memory from earlier that morning.
The image was of the city, seen from the apartment window. The Zashiki-warashi had been looking out. It showed her a black cat, sleek and silent, walking along the edge of the rooftop on the building opposite them. But the spirit wasn't showing her the cat. It was showing her the cat's shadow. In the bright morning sun, the cat had two shadows. One was normal. The other was long and thin, with a split at the end, like a forked tail.
A Bakeneko.
Aiko's eyes snapped open, the peaceful connection shattering. "Kaito," she said, her voice urgent.
The Zashiki-warashi, startled by her sudden distress, vanished.
"What is it?" Kaito asked, his relaxed demeanor gone in an instant.
"The spirit... it showed me something," she said, her heart beginning to pound with a new kind of fear. "This morning. On the roof across the street. It saw a cat. A black cat. It had two shadows."
Kaito's face became a mask of cold fury. The peace of the morning was over. "A Bakeneko scout," he hissed. "They've changed tactics. They're no longer sending clumsy thugs. They're sending their own kind."
He strode to the window, his eyes scanning the rooftops. The enemy wasn't just watching anymore. They were using supernatural spies. And Aiko, with her new, strange ability to speak with the spirits of the house, was now their only line of defense. Her training had just become the most important weapon they had.