CHAPTER XXVI
-Akarui Showdown-
Class began with the usual bustle. Yakumo Toma stood at the front, clipboard in hand, calling out names for roll call as students responded in turn. The air was filled with the soft rustle of notebooks and the scrape of chairs as everyone settled in.
The English teacher entered, her presence quiet but commanding. “Take out your notebooks, everyone. We’ll be noting down today,” she instructed, her voice cutting through the morning haze.
At her desk, Fuyumine Kaoru proudly pulled out a set of newly bought, expensive pens, the glossy barrels catching the light. She arranged them neatly, a small, satisfied smile on her lips.
That’s when Yuzuki’s nose caught a faint, acrid scent—burning incense, sharp and unsettling. Her gaze flicked upward, scanning the ceiling and corners of the classroom. There, half-shrouded in shadow above Kaoru’s desk, was the thing: a grotesque, hunched figure with limbs too long and a face stretched into a dirty red smile, eyes glinting hungrily as it hovered just out of reach.
Yuzuki wasn’t the only one who noticed. Ayaka and Kaito’s heads both turned, their eyes narrowing as they tracked the creature’s movements, tension flickering across their faces.
Beside Kaoru, Sakuragi Sozomi sat quietly, her attention fixed on her own pen—a plain, cheap one she rolled between her fingers. Her gaze lingered on Kaoru’s expensive set, envy and frustration flickering in her eyes as she compared the two. The air around them seemed to thicken, the scent of incense growing stronger, as the creature above watched, waiting for the smallest spark of discord.
Suddenly, Sozomi shot up from her desk, her chair scraping harshly across the floor—a sound that sliced through the classroom’s routine and drew every eye. Without a word, she marched over to Kaoru, snatched the new pens from her desk, and hurled them to the ground. The room froze in shock as Sozomi, face blank and movements mechanical, began stomping on the pens, grinding them into the wooden floor with sharp, angry motions.
“Sakuragi-san. What are you doing? Please stop and return to your desk!” Toma’s voice rang out, stern and incredulous from the front of the room.
Kaoru sat in stunned silence for a heartbeat, her hands trembling. Then, as the reality hit, a shrill cry broke from her lips. She hunched over her desk, shoulders shaking as she sobbed, the sight of her crushed pens—her small treasure—too much to bear.
A ripple of murmurs and gossip swept through the classroom:
“What the hell’s wrong with Sozomi?”
“Did she really just do that?”
“Those pens were so expensive…”
“Someone stop her!”
A few classmates shouted from their seats, “Hey! Stop it!” and “Leave her alone!” but no one dared approach.
Ayaka, face set with determination, stood up abruptly. She strode over and grabbed Sozomi by the shoulders, shaking her. “SOZOMI-SAN! Wake up!” she demanded, her voice cutting through the chaos.
At the front, Toma’s face darkened, his jaw clenched. Kaito’s gaze followed his, both of them glaring at the ceiling where the creature still lingered, its red, dirty smile wide and hungry.
This is off… Yuzuki thought, eyes darting between Ayaka, Kaito, and the thing above. Three people who can see this creature? Are they all from exorcist families? Probably. But if Ayaka was too… then… how’d she even get lost before I became Rin’s tether? That’s off. Or wait. Is she someone like me? Who sees ghosts because she’s also a gifted one? A sacrifice like me? Was she meant to be sacrificed that day and chose to get lost instead? Wait what? That makes no sense. Something’s really wrong here.
The creature above seemed to pulse with anticipation, still feeding on the chaos below.
Suddenly, Sozomi jerked out of Ayaka’s grip, blinking in confusion. “Ayaka-chan… what’s wrong? Why’re you looking at me like that?” Her voice was small, bewildered.
The classroom erupted in shouts, students blaming and yelling at her for what she’d done. Sozomi looked around, panic rising. “What? I-I-I never did anything like that!”
Kaoru, still red-eyed and trembling, shot out of her hunch, pointing at the crushed pens on the floor. “YOU DID EVERYTHING!!!” she cried, her voice raw with hurt.
The tension in the room was electric, the air thick with accusation, confusion, and something far more sinister lurking just out of sight.
A frustrated voice broke through the tense air: “Ugh! This thick smell of burning incense again.”
Toma, the teacher, turned sharply. “Again?”
“Yes, Sensei. Since yesterday there’s been this smell,” another student chimed in, fanning the air with their hand.
Kaito’s eyes narrowed, the words echoing in his mind. What? Twice? he thought, jaw clenching. Damn it. I thought I killed all of them yesterday. Where the hell are they even coming from? He shot a look at Toma, who was already meeting his gaze, both of them silently acknowledging the growing problem—and the fact that it was far from over.
Kaoru, still shaking with anger and hurt, suddenly pushed herself up from her chair. Tears streaked her face as she stormed over to Sozomi, grabbing her by the collar with both hands.
“You did this! Why, Sozomi-san? Why would you do something so awful?” Kaoru shouted, her voice raw and trembling as she shook Sozomi, who looked utterly bewildered.
Sozomi’s eyes went wide, her hands coming up in a feeble attempt to defend herself. “I—I didn’t! I swear, Kaoru-san, I don’t remember—!”
But Kaoru only tightened her grip, her pain boiling over into rage. “Don’t lie to me! You crushed them right in front of everyone! What did I ever do to you?”
The classroom was in chaos now, students shouting for them to stop, some trying to pull Kaoru away, others frozen in shock. The thick scent of incense lingered, the creature above watching hungrily as the conflict escalated.
Reina, sitting just in front of Yuzuki, leaned back in her chair until she was nearly nose-to-nose with Yuzuki over the desk. She lowered her voice, eyes wide with a mix of fear and dry humor. “Yuzuki-chan. Is our classroom under a curse, or is it actually gonna catch fire any minute now?”
Yuzuki leaned forward, her arms folded on her desk, and whispered back, “I… have no idea.” Her eyes flicked anxiously toward the front of the room, then up to the ceiling where the creature still lurked. What are the exorcists going to do now? she wondered, feeling the tension in the room coil tighter with every passing second.
The classroom was a storm of chaos—girls shouting, Kaoru and Sozomi’s argument escalating, the thick smell of incense curling through the air, and above it all, the Akarui’s smirk growing ever wider as it fed on the turmoil.
Toma finally raised his voice above the din, commanding, “Students, please go to the ground. Prefects, you’re in charge. Take them out.”
A student called out, “Sensei, should we take our belongings too?”
“No. Leave them here,” Toma replied firmly. “Hurry up and leave.”
“Sensei, if our class is on fire, our belongings will—”
“It won’t,” Toma cut in, his tone brooking no argument. “Hurry up and leave.”
Kaito and Himari were already at work, moving quickly to usher students out and empty the classroom, their faces set and focused as the rest of the class scrambled to follow orders, the tension and supernatural dread thick in the air.
As the last of the students filed out, Kaito paused at the doorway, giving Toma a brief nod before following the group down the hall. Yuzuki, her hand clasped tightly in Reina’s, glanced back just in time to see Kaito and Himari trailing behind the others. Kaito leaned in close, whispering something to Himari—his expression serious, hers etched with worry.
Then, without warning, Kaito spun on his heel and darted in the opposite direction, away from the flow of students. He’s going back into the classroom? Yuzuki wondered, her curiosity piqued. Probably, she decided, facing forward once more. But even as she walked, she kept Himari in her peripheral vision, noting the anxiety shadowing her face as Himari hurried to catch up with the rest of the group.
After the chaos in the classroom, students changed out of their school shoes and made their way to the school ground. The early sun cast long shadows as clusters of students found their places: Yuzuki and Reina settled under the shade of a tree, quietly discussing the morning’s turmoil, while boys nearby started a rowdy game of tag. Sozomi trailed behind Kaoru, apologizing over and over, her face pale with confusion—she genuinely remembered nothing of her earlier outburst.
Yuzuki watched all of this with a sharp, analytical eye. So, she thought, whenever that thing appears, it stirs up fights—either by fueling anger or jealousy. It’s starting to make sense now.
Suddenly, shouts erupted from the boys’ game. Two boys, faces red with fury, squared off and fists started flying. The rest of the students, boys and girls alike, rushed over, forming a tight circle around the fight. Phones were whipped out, cameras rolling, voices rising in excitement and alarm. Yuzuki and Reina, caught in the crowd, watched as one boy landed a punch, blood trailing down the other’s lip. Reina instinctively grabbed Yuzuki’s arm, her grip tight with worry.
Yuzuki’s gaze flicked upward, and she spotted another grotesque, shadowy creature lurking in the branches of a tree a few yards away, its eyes locked on the chaos below.
She caught snatches of conversation among the boys:
“Bro’s hitting him just ’cause he hates how much fame he got from that last soccer kick that went viral.”
“He keeps saying his position was stolen—guess he couldn’t hold back.”
Other boys just howled and egged them on, the energy in the circle growing more frenzied.
Himari, desperate to stop the violence, pushed her way into the ring, but the boys shoved her aside, determined to let the fight play out. The crowd’s mood shifted—what began as a single scuffle quickly spiraled out of control.
A girl suddenly shoved another, and a boy kicked a classmate.
A girl slapped a boy, who retaliated by pushing her to the ground.
Fights broke out everywhere—shouting, screaming, accusations flying. Of the forty students, only eleven managed to keep clear of the violence, huddling together in shock.
Then, in the midst of it all, Himari stormed up to Yuzuki and, without warning, slapped her hard across the face. Yuzuki reeled, stunned. Before she could react, another girl shoved Reina, screaming, “My mother would’ve never lost respect in the society if it hadn’t been for your mother!”
Himari, her face twisted with jealousy and pain, began howling at Yuzuki. “You stole Kaito from me! It should’ve been me he cared about, not you! Why do you always get in the way?”
The ground had become a battlefield of tangled emotions and old resentments, all stoked by the invisible presence of the supernatural creatures feeding on the chaos. Yuzuki, still reeling from the slap, realized just how deep the creature’s influence ran—and how quickly things could spiral out of control when its hunger was unleashed.
Yuzuki’s eyes darted to the tree at the edge of the chaos. High among the branches, nearly five of the grotesque creatures now swirled and perched, their movements both serpentine and unnatural. Each wore a white mask, eerily smooth except for the wide, jagged red smiles that split their faces. The masks caught the sunlight, making their grins gleam even more menacingly.
The creatures’ bodies twisted and shifted, limbs curling around the branches as they watched the fights below with hungry anticipation. Their presence was unmistakable—where there had been one, now there were many, drawn by the escalating discord among the students. The air seemed to thicken, the oppressive scent of burning incense growing stronger as their numbers increased.
Yuzuki felt a chill run down her spine. The sight of so many of these entities, all with their sinister smiles fixed on the turmoil below, made it clear: the more chaos and negative emotion, the more these supernatural beings gathered, feeding off the strife and amplifying it further. The school ground was no longer just a scene of student quarrels—it had become a hunting ground for something far more sinister.
Yuzuki scanned the chaos—every single classmate was caught in violence, no one spared. Shouts of resentment, ugly words, and accusations filled the air. Resentment too? she thought, watching the venom in their exchanges. Anger, jealousy, resentment. All three, she concluded, piecing together the creature’s pattern.
Suddenly, as Himari’s hand swung toward Yuzuki’s face, Himari’s body jerked back and she crashed to the ground. Yuzuki caught a flash of red—a ball attached to a string unraveling from Himari’s waist, then snapping back. Yuzuki’s eyes traced the string to its source: a kendama, the traditional Japanese cup-and-ball toy, with its distinctive red ball.
Standing there, hood up, was Rin. When he lifted his head, Yuzuki saw a fresh red welt on his left cheek.
“BABY BOY?” Yuzuki called, surprised.
Rin grinned, rubbing his cheek with exaggerated drama. “Bruh. Just for some gummies I had to take the pain of your slap? For real? That’s not in the ghost contract, chief.”
A realization hit Yuzuki—as his tether, he feels my pain too. She lightly touched her own cheek, now understanding why it didn’t sting.
Himari, still on the ground, spat, “BABY BOY? You have a baby boy?” She whipped her head in the direction Yuzuki was looking, but saw nothing. Confused and frustrated, she suddenly lunged at Yuzuki again. Yuzuki sidestepped and left her foot out, sending Himari sprawling to the ground once more.
Yuzuki rushed to Rin, towering over him. “Baby Boy?” she called, concern in her voice.
Rin shot her a sly, playful smirk. “I tanked that slap like a pro, all for some gummies. You owe me, L Bozo. Next time, at least warn a ghost before you get smacked, yeah?”
Yuzuki couldn’t help but laugh, even as chaos raged around them. Rin’s Gen Z energy and mischievous humor cut through the tension, his quirky, goofy presence a brief anchor in the storm.
Rin cracked his knuckles, flashing Yuzuki a sly, mischievous grin. “Now. Watch your man fight,” he declared, voice dripping with Gen Z swagger and playful bravado.
Without missing a beat, he dashed straight toward the tree where the five Akarui perched, their red smiles gleaming in anticipation. Rin skidded to a stop beneath the branches, spinning his kendama with one hand like a seasoned trickster.
To be Continued...
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