Ren's apartment felt smaller than it ever had.
The suppression seal sat cold against the side of his neck like a permanent bruise. Every time he instinctively reached for shadow—whether to grab a can of coffee from the top shelf without standing or to darken the room so he could sleep during the day—the seal flared with a dull, nauseating pinch. Power answered, but only a thin trickle. Enough to remind him what he used to be. Not enough to feel like himself.
He hated it.
But he kept the promise.
For the first three days after the Purification Hall meeting, he did nothing flashy. Went back to courier runs—short, legal ones. Delivered bentos to office workers in Ikebukuro, picked up dry cleaning in Takadanobaba, avoided every alley that smelled even faintly of essence. He wore long-sleeve shirts to hide the seal's faint golden glow when it activated. He smiled at customers. He paid two months of back rent in cash he'd scraped together from odd jobs.
Normal life.
It felt like wearing someone else's skin.
At night he lay on the futon staring at the ceiling, feeling Aoi through the muted Echo. She was still in the Hall—confined to a small suite on level 4, allowed supervised walks in the inner garden, weekly resonance checks. He could sense her heartbeat: steady but restless. Sometimes he caught faint impressions—her fingers tapping on a windowsill, the soft clink of her spoon against a teacup, the way she exhaled when she thought no one was watching.
Never words. Never images. Just feelings.
Enough to know she was thinking of him too.
On the fourth night the burner phone Li Feng had given him buzzed at 2:14 a.m.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Aoi's voice—quiet, careful, like she was speaking from inside a bubble.
"Ren."
"Hey."
A small pause. He could almost see her sitting cross-legged on the floor of her room, back against the wall, knees drawn up.
"How bad is it?" she asked.
"Like someone turned the volume down on my entire body. I can still feel Kurogami—he's pissed—but it's like he's shouting through ten meters of water."
Another pause.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. We bought time. That's what matters."
She let out a shaky breath. "They're watching me closer than I expected. Tanaka-senpai checks my room twice a day. They took my personal phone. This line is encrypted, but I only get five minutes before the monitor notices the signal bounce."
Ren sat up. "Then talk fast."
"I found something in the restricted archives yesterday. During 'supervised research time.' There's an old record—pre-rift era, almost two hundred years ago. A vessel hosted Kurogami for almost a decade without full takeover. He used something called a 'Soul Anchor.' A physical object that binds the human will stronger than any seal. If we can find one…"
Ren's pulse kicked up despite the suppression. "Where?"
"The record was incomplete. It only said the anchor was hidden in the ruins of an old mountain shrine near Mount Mitake. Before the big Tokyo rift opened in 2041, the place was sealed by the last onmyōji order. The Purification Order has it marked as a no-go zone now—too unstable."
Ren rubbed the seal on his neck. "How unstable?"
"Class-4 rifts open randomly. High essence density. Even Miracles avoid it unless they go in squads."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Aoi whispered, "I can't leave here. Not yet. But you…"
"I'm not exactly at full strength."
"I know. But you're still you. And right now you're the only one who can move."
Ren stared at the dark window. Neon from the street below painted shifting patterns on the glass.
"When the suppression lifts for my daily 40% window… I'll go."
"No. Not alone. Wait until I can figure out how to get clearance for an external mission. Maybe two weeks. Maybe three."
"Two weeks is a long time when every Pagan in Tokyo is sniffing around for weakness."
"I know." Her voice cracked just a little. "But if you go now and something happens to you…"
Ren closed his eyes. Felt her heartbeat spike through the Echo—fear, raw and sharp.
"I won't do anything stupid," he said softly. "Promise."
A small, broken laugh. "You're terrible at keeping that promise."
"Yeah. But I'm good at coming back."
They stayed quiet for the last thirty seconds of her window.
Then she whispered, "I miss you."
"Miss you more, angel girl."
"Don't call me that on this line. They might be listening."
"Too late."
A soft huff—almost a laugh.
The line clicked dead.
Ren set the phone down.
He didn't sleep after that.
Two nights later the test came.
Ren was walking home from a late delivery—empty streets near the edge of Ikebukuro, sodium lamps buzzing overhead—when the air thickened.
Not a rift.
Something deliberate.
Three figures stepped out from the mouth of an alley. Hooded jackets, silver fox pins glinting on their collars.
Blood Lotus Mei's people.
The leader—a tall woman with short-cropped purple hair and a curved tanto already drawn—tilted her head.
"Kurogami's boy. Heard you got neutered by the saints. Figured we'd come see if the rumors were true."
Ren stopped. Hands in pockets. Seal humming faintly against his skin.
"Mei send you to collect?"
Purple Hair smiled—sharp, predatory. "She wants to know if you're still worth fearing. Or if you're just another broken toy now."
The other two fanned out. One summoned thin crimson threads that hovered like hungry eels. The other cracked his knuckles—black bone spurs pushing through his skin.
Ren exhaled slowly.
He could feel the 40% window ticking down—still twenty minutes left before the daily cap reset. Enough for this. Maybe.
"Last chance," he said quietly. "Walk away."
Purple Hair laughed.
They attacked together.
Ren let the first crimson threads lash toward him—then Shadow Stepped sideways. The movement was sluggish, like moving through molasses, but it still caught them off guard.
He reappeared behind the bone-spur guy and drove an elbow into his kidney—wrapped in the thin shadow he could still muster.
The man grunted and swung wildly.
Ren ducked, then kicked the back of his knee. Bone spurs cracked against pavement as the man went down.
Purple Hair snarled and lunged—tanto flashing.
Ren caught her wrist with his left hand. The seal burned cold, protesting, but he forced a single black tendril to coil around her blade arm.
She twisted free—stronger than she looked—and slashed at his throat.
He leaned back. Blade missed by centimeters.
The third attacker hit him from the side—crimson threads wrapping his legs, yanking him off balance.
Ren fell.
They piled on.
For a second panic flared—old, human panic.
Then he remembered Aoi's voice on the phone.
I miss you.
He snarled.
The seal flared brighter—warning, punishing—but he pushed past it.
Void Chain snapped out from his palms—not full strength, not even close, but enough.
Black iron links wrapped the two standing attackers, yanking them together hard enough to crack skulls.
They dropped.
Purple Hair staggered back, eyes wide.
"You're… still—"
Ren rose slowly. Nose bleeding again. Black smoke curling from his fingertips.
"Still me," he finished.
He limped toward her.
She backed up—then turned and bolted.
Ren let her go.
He stood in the empty street for a long minute, breathing hard, seal burning like ice against his skin.
Then he felt it—faint, distant, but unmistakable.
Aoi's heartbeat spiking through the Echo.
Fear. Then relief. Then something warmer.
She'd felt the whole thing.
He smiled despite the pain.
Took out the burner phone.
Typed one message.
Still here.
Thirty seconds later:
Idiot. Don't scare me like that again.
He laughed—short, rough—and started walking home.
Six months.
One step at a time.
Essence Level: still locked at 7.1
Seal integrity: 92% (minor overdraw detected)
Resonance Echo: brief intensity surge during combat (Aoi felt everything)
End of Chapter 9