Chapter 2: The Kansai Branch, Once Great in Ancestry
Kyoto holds a position of considerable importance in the Japanese magic world.
Though the Kyoto of today is no longer the Kyoto of old—it is no longer the Heian-kyo that once looked down upon all of Japan—and while it remains significant, in terms of scale, it is now merely a part of the Osaka metropolitan area. At the very least, Tamamo-no-Mae could not find many shadows of the Heian-kyo she once knew here. For example, her favorite Ukyo district of old had already withered away long before the rise of Edo. Of course, there were still many buildings familiar to her.
Hikigaya had been to Kyoto before, and his first experience wasn't great; because of Voban, he nearly ended up running naked. Voban was a good senior; Hikigaya didn't hate him at all, and among the Campiones he had dealt with, their relationship was the best. But good relationship or not, Voban's tendency to suddenly want to "have some fun" was a bit much to handle.
However, Voban should be occupied with a visit from Aisha right about now. Thinking of that made Hikigaya feel quite joyful.
As for his second visit, he had encountered his half-sister and had a classmate pee all over his pants... He no longer cared about that classmate, but he still looked forward to this experience. He simply wanted a normal sightseeing trip to Kyoto.
He was confident. After all, Ena's grandmother surely hadn't sought him out for a fight; at most, it would just be a meeting and a chat. SO EASY! Afterward, he would just have some fun.
Of course, the visit was the priority. And that old lady of the Seishuin family had recently been staying at the Kansai Branch of the History Compilation Committee.
To Hikigaya's surprise, the entrance to the Kansai Branch was a place he had been to before: the Senbon Torii of the Fushimi Inari Taisha.
The last time he was here, Miura had kept his heart racing the whole way, and it had cost Shizuka-sensei a pair of stockings. But this time, under Ena's instructions, he completely restrained his cursed power.
When Hikigaya stepped into the Senbon Torii, everything changed. The travelers originally walking inside vanished instantly, and the surroundings became deathly silent. Beyond the torii gates, the lush green woods disappeared, replaced by a starry sky.
This was a type of Onmyodo that no one in modern Japan should be able to set up. Hikigaya was certain of this; although he didn't deal much with local Japanese forces, he was fairly clear about their level—as clear as the darkness, and Hikigaya knew darkness well.
In modern society, the status of Japan and Egypt is completely different, but in reality, the inheritance of Japan's Onmyoji is perhaps even more tragic than that of the Ennead. To tell a
joke: the average value of contemporary Japanese sorcery is forcefully pulled up by the Astral Realm.
Amidst the starlight, Hikigaya walked through one torii gate after another. In this space, every gate was clean, stripped of the names of various donors or corporations. This was no longer the Senbon Torii of Fushimi Inari; it was merely a projection anchored in reality. Without permission, an outsider wandering in would likely be trapped in an infinite labyrinth formed by these gates. At first glance, it seemed harmless, but it harbored the most malicious intent toward intruders—because once they entered, they could never leave.
Of course, that assumes the intruder is human, and not a Heretic God. Hikigaya was not an intruder, so he had no desire to destroy a cultural heritage site.
After a while, voices and sunlight drifted from ahead. Before that, a wind carrying several cherry blossom petals arrived. As Hikigaya stepped forward, the scene before his eyes transformed drastically.
A grand road paved with stone slabs lay beneath his feet, with a torii gate erected at intervals. Cherry trees were planted everywhere, and ancient-style mansions stood amidst the groves. Dark, heavy mountains loomed in the distance, blurred and indistinct.
The Kansai Branch was called a "branch," but its history was far older than the Committee's. This place was the representative of a thousand years of Kansai Onmyodo heritage.
Japanese Onmyo studies originated in the Yayoi period, and a clear Onmyo consciousness existed by the Kofun period—though it was still simple and vague. To put it bluntly, there was no theory, but the rulers said there had to be, relying purely on physical persuasion and nonsense.
When the mature Yin-Yang theories of ancient China entered Japan, the originally primitive Japanese concepts finally gained a theoretical basis and philosophical framework. Thus, Onmyodo was born, reaching its peak during the Heian period as Japan's official "science."
However, in the late Heian period, as the Tsuchimikado faction (led by Abe no Seimei) and the Kadowaki-ryu (led by Kamo no Mitsuyoshi) began to split the power of Onmyodo, it declined and entered the era of the Onmyoji.
The good days for Onmyoji didn't last long. By the Kamakura period, the samurai class rose, and the Onmyoji began to get slapped in the face again. Consequently, some Onmyoji switched careers to become military strategists—don't misunderstand, not the Romance of the Three Kingdoms type, but specifically to perform divination for generals. It was a bit pathetic, but at least there was hope.
And hope came. When the Tokugawa "Old Tortoise," who highly revered Onmyodo, came online, he gave the Onmyoji brothers a helping hand. He truly liked Onmyodo; he invited Onmyoji to be advisors, a practice that lasted until the third Shogun. Thus, the descendants of
Abe, the Tsuchimikado family, enjoyed good times, created Tsuchimikado Shinto, and managed all the Onmyoji in the country with the Shogunate's support.
But what the Shogunate loved, the Emperor hated. When Emperor Meiji took power, the darkest days for Onmyoji arrived. The new government directly labeled Onmyodo as a "cult." The Tsuchimikado's "iron rice bowl"—the monopoly on creating the calendar—was stripped away. The Onmyoji were sent back to square one overnight.
It was then that a group of Onmyoji, led by the Tsuchimikado, formed an organization called the "Tsuchimikado Shinto Alliance." Contrary to how official history describes it, its primary function was actually the emergency preservation of Japan's remaining Onmyodo techniques.
In 1952, when General MacArthur, acting as the "Overlord of Japan," drafted the constitutional proposal for freedom of religion, the Onmyoji finally escaped their stray-dog status. Tsuchimikado Shinto became an official religious corporation. Thus, the "Tsuchimikado Shinto Alliance" underwent a drastic change in style, moving from the secretive "just passing through" to the flamboyant "smile for me."
However, by this time, after years of suppression and the devastation of war, the sorcery heritage of the Onmyoji was so pathetic it was nearly extinct. Not only were masters scarce, but they themselves were incredibly "squishy." To ensure combat capability (and survival) and prevent their counterparts from Kanto from riding over them, professions like exorcist swordsmen were introduced in large numbers. Naturally, the name was changed to the "Kansai Sorcery Association."
A few years later, the History Compilation Committee was established. All magic organizations in Japan, whether old veterans or newcomers, were forced to join. The name "Kansai Sorcery Association," used for only a few years, was laid to rest, becoming the current "Kansai Branch."
To this day, the people of the Kansai Branch still look down on the Committee. To put it briefly: My ancestors were once rich.
In any case, looking at their headquarters, Hikigaya saw they were indeed extravagant—unbelievably wealthy.
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