It was sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 a.m.
That strange hour when night owls were still awake, wage slaves had already returned to their posts, and the city itself remained asleep. Silence and gloom reigned supreme.
There was no moon in the sky—thick, brooding clouds obscured everything. Though there was no rain, the overcast skies hinted at a stretch of dreary weather.
"Ah… I want to die…"
The words hung heavy in the air, soaked with self-pity.
Slumped on a weathered bench under a flickering streetlamp, Keikain Yura muttered her grievances into the night. Under the pale light, she looked pale herself, almost ghostlike.
Luckily, the area was secluded. No passersby were around at this hour, or they might've mistaken her for a wandering spirit.
After all, what kind of normal person sits around at this ungodly hour moaning things like "I want to die…"?
"I promised Limbo-san I'd do better…"
The cause of her current misery could be traced back to her joint mission with Ashiya Douman to exorcise yōkai.
Thanks to Douman's help, Yura had successfully tracked down the malevolent yōkai haunting the abandoned district. The plan had been clear: Douman would lead the way, and she would do the purifying.
In terms of outcome, the mission was flawless. Not a single yōkai escaped. Every evil spirit had been eliminated by Yura.
Yes—if you judged only by the result, she had brought no shame to the Keikain name.
But…
"I actually threw discount coupons thinking they were ofuda—AAAAHHHHH I WANNA HIT MY HEAD ON A WALL AND DIE!"
Embarrassment simmered into frustration, and Yura reflexively reached for something to grab, finally settling for yanking at her sleeves or tugging her hair.
It didn't help.
The abandoned feel of the district was likely a result of the yōkai's presence. After the fight, she and Douman had walked a long time before reaching even this sparsely populated area.
Of all the streetlamps, only the one above her still worked. The rest were broken, casting everything into oppressive darkness.
Alone in the gloom, thoughts spiraled. And the harder she tried to forget her mortifying mistake, the clearer it replayed in her mind.
"Ugh… how am I supposed to go back to the Keikain house like this? If my brother finds out, he's gonna tease me to death…"
Just picturing her snarky, sharp-tongued brother's mocking expression made her whole face contort with dread. She seriously considered what excuse might let her not go home.
"Don't do anything reckless over something so small, Miss Yura. Running away from home is childish nonsense—it only causes needless worry for those who care about you."
His voice cut clearly through the still night. Footsteps echoed in the empty air.
Ashiya Douman appeared before her, smiling gently.
"Limbo-san…"
She looked up, conflicted emotions swirling in her expression.
If it had only been her out there during the mission, she might've been able to laugh it off. After all, no one seeing = no shame.
But no—Douman had been right there. He'd seen everything.
And now the one person who witnessed her disgrace was here, trying to comfort her.
"I can feel it in the air… the tension is building. A storm's coming—one that could shake the world to its core. Now's a dangerous time to leave your clan, Miss Yura."
"You still have a long road ahead of you. Don't let yourself be shackled by one tiny shadow from your past."
His words stirred something within her. The dullness in her eyes brightened.
"So what you're saying is… my future is still full of light, and I shouldn't let past embarrassments weigh me down and hold back my progress?"
"No, no. What I'm saying is—this is nothing. You've got plenty more humiliating experiences waiting for you. You'll get used to it eventually! Fufufu! AHAHAHA!"
"…"
Her face froze in a wonderfully awkward way.
Then, fuming, Yura glared daggers at him. Her voice dripped with petty vengeance.
"Limbo-san… you're such a jerk."
"Mmmmmm~ Forgive me. This humble monk simply has a rotten personality. Asking me to stop teasing people is harder than chopping off my head. But here—take this as an apology. I bought some strawberry daifuku from a sweets shop just now. I hear sweets help lift the mood!"
His mischievous grin gave way to a kind, harmless smile. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a small bag of plump, glossy strawberry mochi—instantly hijacking Yura's attention.
W-Wait a minute… STRAWBERRY DAI-FREAKING-FUKU?!
Not those dry, cheap breadsticks on clearance?! Not the nearly-expired snack packs?! This is a luxury—can someone like me even accept this level of decadence?!*
When the bag landed in her hands, her worries evaporated like fog. A radiant smile bloomed on her face.
Limbo-san is such a good person… so dependable…
And just like that, the future scion of the Keikain Clan was thoroughly bribed with sweets.
After she'd devoured about a third of the bag, Douman calmly reached out and took the rest back.
"It's not good to eat too many sweets at this hour. You've used up a lot of energy exorcising those yōkai—best to find somewhere to rest and sleep it off. Oh, and brush your teeth. I'll hold onto the daifuku for now, no funny business, I swear."
As he started fussing over her like that, Yura was hit again by that strange feeling.
"Limbo-san… you're like an older brother. A mischievous, overbearing one, but… still."
She mumbled the thought without realizing it.
How could she have known? That innocent little musing would—if overheard by her family—trigger a multigenerational meltdown and earn her lectures from every ancestor, living and dead.
Still, they needed to keep moving.
They were too far out. If they wanted a real place to rest, they'd have to get closer to the city center.
Unless they planned to crash in someone's home.
"Mmm… if it's just you, Miss Yura, finding someone willing to take you in wouldn't be hard. But someone like me? Anyone with common sense would slam the door in my face."
Shrugging, Douman added cheerfully:
"Unless I use a little charm on them. Something subtle. Like Nurarihyon's style—just strolling into someone's home without them realizing it."
At the mention of Nurarihyon, Yura's expression twisted.
"…Nurarihyon, huh."
A tangled feeling knotted in her chest.
She was thinking about Nura Rikuo.
They'd fought side by side many times. And many of those times… he'd saved her. Unilaterally.
And yet, she couldn't shake her discomfort.
She was an onmyōji. Rikuo was a yōkai.
That divide had been carved into her since childhood. Onmyōji = righteous. Yōkai = evil. It was the foundation of their teachings.
Even though Keikain Seimei, now her summoned shikigami, had explained the true history—shifting that belief wasn't so easy.
When Rikuo was in human form, Yura could talk to him normally.
But when he transformed… her reactions became awkward. Defensive. Almost like she was sulking.
She hated feeling like that. Hated that she was the one being immature.
I don't want to become like… him.
And with that thought lodged firmly in her chest, she decided to keep walking.
"…There are a lot of empty houses around here."
She suddenly spoke up, watching the rows of dark, unlit homes.
"Mmm. Not that surprising. We're so close to the yōkai's old turf—of course everyone moved out."
Douman answered offhandedly, then smiled as though remembering something amusing.
"When we got off the train earlier, remember? People were giving us looks. Worried, sympathetic, like we were walking into danger… quite the novel experience."
Now that he mentioned it, Yura realized he was right.
"…So they knew? About the yōkai?"
"Well, more like suspected. But they definitely sensed danger. Those who don't believe in yōkai probably think this area's crawling with escaped criminals or something."
He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"Still, after that whole incident with 'Kudan', it's gotten really hard to keep this stuff hidden from the public."
Yura nodded grimly. She remembered that event all too well.
Sanmoto Gorōzaemon had caused a massive uproar. The Hyaku Monogatari Clan had exploited the situation, manipulating fanatics and thrill-seekers into witnessing full-blown yōkai massacres.
The government couldn't cover it up in time, even with Keikain intervention.
At the time, Yura had been helping clean up the aftermath of the Hagoromo Gitsune incident and preparing for the battle with Nue. Only her older brother Ryuuji had rushed in to assist.
"Mmmmmm… tricky situation. Not sure people'll buy the whole 'gas leak' excuse this time."
"…Gas leak?"
Yura blinked, staring incredulously at Douman's back.
"The buildings collapsed, Limbo-san."
"Gas leak explosion."
"There were casualties!"
"Gas leak poisoning."
"The yōkai—"
"Gas leak-induced hallucinations."
"But… people filmed it on their phones!"
"Everyone who uploaded the footage? Gas poisoning."
So what, the entire nation's gas infrastructure failed overnight?!
"Relax, relax. This humble monk is an old hand at this kind of thing. No matter what happens, just blame the gas."
Smiling with zero shame, he continued:
"Giant sea monsters in the fog? Beam of light piercing the sky? Flying castles? Arrow strikes with the force of a nuclear blast? A spinning blue lancer charging through the air? Gas leaks, every last one of them."
"…Half of those aren't even remotely explainable by gas!"
And didn't one of those examples come from a completely different franchise?!
As Yura unleashed a torrent of indignant yelling, Douman suddenly looked up.
His abrupt change caught her attention. She followed his gaze.
The sky remained dark. No moonlight. The clouds sat heavy like a leaden lid over the world.
But amid that darkness… a single streak of white light stood out.
It was like an arrow made of pure light—a meteor that tore through the black sky.
It flew silently past them and struck a nearby parked car.
They never knew whose unfortunate car it was. But when the arrow hit, it exploded.
Fire tore the veil of night apart. The shockwave sent molten shrapnel flying in all directions.
"…Sixty-one. Sixty-seven. Seventy-one…"
A tall silhouette stood silently atop a residential rooftop.
He held a long, nearly man-height wooden bow. His eyes were sharp—hawk-like.
He'd seen the explosion. Seen Douman and Yura caught in it.
Then… he closed his eyes. As if in mourning.
"So sad…"
"We are onmyōji. We should be allies, united in purging evil. And yet, we now stand as enemies… how tragic."
"Is this, too, a trial we must endure on the path to Heaven?"
He muttered the words like a prayer… as the fire consumed everything below.
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T/N: ITS THE GAS LEAKS!!!