Chapter 1

On the train to Kanagawa, the passengers, whether seated or standing, kept casting furtive glances in the same direction.

A boy with kelp-like hair widened his cat-like eyes, turning excitedly toward the chilly seat. “You got it all right! I really haven’t been feeling well lately—my shoulders feel heavy, I’m tired all the time, and my mood’s been off. The vice-captain’s even scolded me several times because of it…”

Suddenly, a thought struck him—a chilling possibility. “Wait, could it be… I’m haunted by something? Master, you have to save me!” His words trembled with genuine fear.

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” The black-haired, dark-eyed youth spoke gently, his calm tone and serene manner strangely reassuring.

Yes, that’s exactly the aura of a spiritualist.

The other passengers thought: Wow, you look so well-behaved, but turns out you’re just a superstitious little fraud!

No one made a move, but silently resolved that if the so-called fraud tried to swindle the naïve boy out of any money, they’d step in and expose him.

But the supposed charlatan, Tsukiyo Hiiragi, seemed oblivious to the stares. He beckoned the kelp-haired boy over. “Come a bit closer.”

The boy complied.

With his right hand enveloped in a subtle force, Tsukiyo spread his fingers, then clenched them tightly, crushing the bug-like creature clinging to the boy’s shoulder. The grotesque little monster didn’t even have time to shriek before it vanished into thin air.

Not a single person commented, for in their eyes, the boy had simply swiped at the air.

All at once, the kelp-haired boy felt a sudden lightness and moved his shoulders in delight. “I’m cured! I really am!”

His eyes shone with awe. “Master, you really are a master!”

“...Thank you,” Tsukiyo accepted the praise modestly, but corrected gently, “I’m not a master, I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Wow, a jujutsu sorcerer!”

“Mhm, a jujutsu sorcerer.”

The kelp-haired boy didn’t even question the unfamiliar word; perhaps in his mind, “jujutsu sorcerer” and “master” were one and the same.

But no one else took Tsukiyo’s words seriously.

Ah, not a fraud after all—just another high school kid with delusions. All right, nothing to worry about.

The passengers relaxed, withdrawing their attention and returning to their own affairs.

The two boys exchanged names. The boy, introducing himself as Akaya Kirihara, the ace of Rikkaidai’s tennis team, glanced warily about and whispered, “That thing’s really gone, right?”

He’s really scared of ghosts—can’t even say the word.

Tsukiyo nearly laughed. “I’ve exorcised it.”

“That’s good, that’s really good…” Akaya’s taut frame finally relaxed. “You’re amazing! I could feel it—the bad energy disappeared all at once!”

Tsukiyo replied, “Uh…” There was no such thing.

One of them was guileless and the other eager to chat, making for a cheerful atmosphere.

Akaya said, “I can’t believe you’re also a Rikkaidai student—what a coincidence!”

“Not quite yet. I just transferred, haven’t reported to school.” Tsukiyo’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Kirihara-kun, could you tell me about Rikkaidai?”

Having been helped, Akaya immediately warmed to him, a sense of responsibility blooming in his heart. But since his world revolved around tennis, he couldn’t think of much to say and offered only, “Rikkaidai’s great, you won’t be disappointed!”

Then, with more gravity, he added, “But there’s one person you need to be careful about.”

Tsukiyo played along. “Who?”

Akaya lowered his voice as if fearing someone would overhear. “Genichirou Sanada! He’s the school’s disciplinary officer—loves to punish people. I’ve been beaten up by him plenty. Don’t worry about not knowing him; just look for the guy with the darkest expression in a crowd. If you see that demon king, run the other way!”

Tsukiyo nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

Akaya was touched—no one had ever trusted him so easily. He couldn’t help feeling a newfound closeness, conveniently forgetting why he’d gotten in trouble in the first place.

“Tsukiyo-san, you don’t know—our vice-captain… Oh, that’s Sanada, he’s also the vice-captain of the tennis team. He’s super strict, always angry. I accidentally took the wrong train today and missed practice—he’s going to punish me for sure, maybe even with his iron fist…”

At this, he wilted like a seaweed left out in the sun.

—from page 1/3

From Kanagawa all the way to Tokyo by mistake?

Tsukiyo couldn’t quite agree with the kelp-haired boy’s highly subjective complaints.

But under those bright green cat eyes, he dutifully replied, “Ah, that’s terrible.”

“I know, right? Vice-captain Sanada is the worst—nothing like Captain Yukimura and Senior Yanagi, who are so kind and gentle!” Akaya instantly perked up.

A faint smile curled Tsukiyo’s lips before he suppressed it. “Kirihara-kun, you really like Senior Yanagi… and Captain Yukimura?”

“Of course!” Akaya replied without hesitation. “They’re so understanding, so gentle! But with the captain away, Senior Yanagi can’t stand up to Vice-captain Sanada’s reign of terror alone!”

“You poor things.”

“We really are, aren’t we?”

Back and forth their conversation went, Tsukiyo glancing at his phone several times throughout.

Akaya, guileless as ever, answered every question, never noticing Tsukiyo’s subtle probing, and in fact felt an even greater sense of kinship.

When the train arrived, Tsukiyo slung a quiver over his back, took up his bow case in one hand and rolled his suitcase with the other.

“Let’s go, Kirihara-kun.”

Akaya, a little dazed, followed him off the train and all the way out of the station before it occurred to him to ask, “Tsukiyo-san, how did you know I was getting off here?”

Without turning, Tsukiyo teased, “I didn’t—I was just planning to lure you away and sell you.”

A lie no three-year-old would believe, but the single-minded Akaya swallowed it whole.

He hugged himself. “I—I’m not worth much!”

Tsukiyo paused, turned, and asked curiously, “Are you always like this? Believing everything people say?”

“Huh?” Akaya didn’t understand.

Tsukiyo didn’t explain, only said, “I was joking. Come on.”

Akaya hesitated, face shifting through several expressions, but eventually trotted after him.

He was about to speak when he spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

“Senior Yanagi!”

Like a fledgling flying home, he dashed over.

A family member at last!

Renji Yanagi, dressed in a mustard-colored tracksuit, stood out in the crowd.

Seeing someone familiar, Akaya’s eyes grew wet, his nose tingling with tears about to spill. “Senior Yanagi, did you come to pick me up…?”

But Renji answered mercilessly, “No.”

Akaya’s tears retreated instantly, and he drooped like a wilted cabbage.

Tsukiyo watched the exchange, then said to the brown-haired youth, “Renji, your junior is quite amusing.”

Renji sighed, “Tsukiyo.”

The teasing tone made clear it was amusement more than genuine interest.

Renji took the suitcase from him, pausing. “You must be tired after the trip. How about coming to my place for a rest? My parents were happy to hear you’re moving to Kanagawa.”

“I’m not tired,” Tsukiyo frowned, “and it wouldn’t be right to visit without settling in first. Once I’m settled, I’ll pay my respects.”

Tsukiyo had grown up in Tokyo, where he’d first met Renji. After elementary school, one went to Kyoto, the other to Kanagawa. Though they saw each other less, they’d kept in touch, so there was no awkwardness now.

Renji hesitated, then said tactfully, “The Hiiragi Shrine has been abandoned for years—it’s not really fit for living anymore.”

Tsukiyo didn’t mind. “How bad could it be? I should at least take a look.”

“Uh…”

Tsukiyo glanced over, feigning annoyance. “Renji, when did you get so naggy?”

—from page 2/3

Renji fell silent, wanting to argue but saying nothing.

Akaya churned this over in his mind, and not until they were in the taxi did it dawn on him. “So Tsukiyo-san and Senior Yanagi have known each other a long time?”

Tsukiyo was surprisingly patient. “Yes. I’ve seen your photo before; when I picked you up on the train, I messaged Renji and brought you along.”

“I could have found my way back by myself!” Akaya insisted.

“Of course, you managed to catch the train back to Kanagawa all on your own. Very impressive.” Tsukiyo’s tone was straight out of a storybook for children.

Akaya puffed up with pride. “That’s right!”

Renji nearly buried his face in his hands. Was there any hope for his junior?

After ten minutes, they arrived at their destination.

The Hiiragi Shrine was like any other, built on a hill. The spot wasn’t remote—there was a bustling street nearby and plenty of houses around.

Yet the shrine itself seemed forgotten by the world.

Wild grass grew thick between the stone steps, the torii gate’s once-bright red now faded and mottled, its pillars slick with moss.

At the summit, a court overrun with yellowed weeds and buildings falling into ruin awaited them. A gust of wind sent a slate tile tumbling down.

Tsukiyo: “...”

Akaya: “...”

Renji: “.”

Tsukiyo wiped his face, thinking bitterly that his grandmother had well and truly set him up.

A few days prior, she had called him in, handed him a bundle, told him to return to Kanagawa to inherit the shrine, and assured him the transfer to a new school was arranged.

He’d been happy at first—said his goodbyes, packed up, and set off, never imagining the place would look like this…

Akaya stammered, “Tsukiyo-senpai, are you really going to live here?”

In its desolation, it looked as if it might be hiding any number of monsters.

Tsukiyo: “…I suppose so.”

Renji calmly supplied, “According to my records, the Hiiragi Shrine has been abandoned for nearly thirty years. It used to be tended from time to time, but in recent years, no one’s come. Even children don’t play here anymore—it’s truly deserted. I came by a few days ago. It’s just as dismal as it looks.”

Tsukiyo complained, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did try to warn you.”

“…”

“But you were determined.”

“……”

“And besides, it’s your family’s shrine—I thought you’d know.”

Tsukiyo felt as if his chest had been pierced by a thousand arrows.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his grandmother.

No answer.

He tried again.

Still no answer.

He steeled himself. “Never mind, let’s go in and take a look!”