CHAPTER XXIII
-Burnt Incense-
The newly renovated classroom in the Left Wing was almost unrecognizable—fresh lights overhead, spotless floors, and a brand-new door that slid smoothly open. Sunlight streamed through windows that, not long ago, had been shattered and blackened by fire. Now, they gleamed, perfectly intact.
Perched on the windowboard, Amane Rin sat with his legs dangling, idly playing with his Kendama. The ghost boy’s presence was as casual as ever, the wooden toy’s ball flipping and catching with practiced ease.
“BABY BOY!” Yuzuki burst in, her voice sharp with frustration and urgency.
Rin glanced up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh! Hello there, P. DIDDY! What’s up?” he replied, not missing a beat, his Kendama still dancing in his fingers.
The little korobokkuru, startled by Yuzuki’s sudden entrance, scurried over and tugged at her sleeves, their tiny voices chiming, “I see you!”—as if asking for her approval of the newly cleaned classroom. But Yuzuki, clearly frazzled and not in the mood for pleasantries, brushed past them without a word.
Yuzuki marched straight up to Rin, her frustration boiling over. “If you were planning on harassing me all day, you could’ve at least given me a heads-up! That history textbook thing—because of YOU, I got totally roasted by my social teacher!” she snapped, her voice sharp.
Rin didn’t even glance up, still flicking the Kendama with lazy precision, as if her anger was background noise.
“BABY BOY! I’m talking to YOU!” she shouted, her patience snapping.
With a smooth hop off the windowboard, Rin finally looked her in the eye, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Chill, dude. Maybe try saying ‘thank you’ next time—I’m the reason you didn’t get steamrolled by that music psycho.” He shrugged, sliding past her with the easy swagger of someone who knew exactly what strings he’d pulled.
Yuzuki’s eyes widened. Wait—he’s the one who sent the korobokkuru to trip the music teacher? The realization hit her as Rin shot her a sideways glance, grin widening.
He tossed the Kendama up, caught it, and added, “You’re welcome for the save. Next time, try not to make it so easy for them to pick on you, yeah?”
“Then! You know what that thing was earlier, the one creeping over the ceiling when sensei fell?” Yuzuki pressed, her tone half-accusation, half-desperation.
Rin barely glanced up from where he was now letting the korobokkuru climb up his arm. “And even if I did, you think I’d just spill the tea like that?” he shot back, eyebrow raised, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“You should! Cause—” Yuzuki started, but Rin cut her off with a lazy wave.
“Cuz what? You’ll, what, ground me? Newsflash, I’m already dead, Op.” He grinned, flicking the Kendama so the ball spun around the spike. “Besides, you asking about ceiling creepers is kinda sus. You tryna get yourself on the supernatural hit list?”
Yuzuki huffed, but Rin just leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Look, some things are above your pay grade. Like, way above. Like, Elon Musk in space above.”
He straightened, tossing a korobokkuru in the air and catching it with a flourish. “But hey, if you’re that curious, maybe next time try not to look so freaked out. Monsters love a dramatic audience.” He winked, childlike and cool all at once, then added with a sly smirk, “Anyway, you owe me a snack for saving your butt. Payment accepted in gummies or rare trading cards, dealer’s choice.”
Yuzuki’s grip tightened on Rin’s wrist as she knelt down, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Fine. I’ll get you your gummies, but seriously, Baby Boy, I need answers. You can’t just keep me in the dark forever. I deserve to know what’s going on too,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and earnest.
Rin hesitated, the usual mischief in his eyes flickering with something a little more serious. “Bro, trust me—some things are way better left in the shadows. Curiosity killed the cat, you know? And you’re, like, on your ninth life already.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice wavered just a bit.
She leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “Come on…please. I need to know. I can’t just keep pretending nothing’s happening.”
He rolled his eyes, lips curling into a sly smirk. “Girl, you really think the world’s your personal Netflix drama? Not everything’s about you, you know.”
Yuzuki shot back, “If it isn’t, then why did Kaito-kun tell me not to leave the infirmary until he came back?”
Rin’s eyes went huge. “Wait—hold up. He did what?” His whole vibe shifted from cool to full-on panic mode. “HE DID WHAT???” And before Yuzuki could blink, he bolted out of the room, a blur of ghostly energy and flying Kendama.
“Wait—what? HEY!” Yuzuki scrambled to her feet and rushed after him, but the hallway was empty. He’d vanished, leaving only a faint echo of his sneakers and a lingering sense of mischief.
The little Korobokkuru peeked out from behind the door, blinking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Yuzuki let out a long sigh, then crouched down to their level, her frustration melting into a genuine smile. “Oh! Korobokkuru! You guys really outdid yourselves with the cleaning and repairs! I’m honestly super, super impressed—this place looks amazing!” she exclaimed, her happiness bubbling over as she patted their tiny heads.
The Korobokkurus beamed, their little faces lighting up with pride, some doing tiny happy dances, others giggling and tugging at her sleeves for more praise.
Yuzuki continued showering the little korobokkuru with praise, her words practically dripping with butter. “Seriously!!! You guys are the MVPs of classroom makeovers! I don’t know what I’d do without you—this place is a whole new world now!”
The Korobokkurus giggled, some puffing up with pride, others spinning in happy circles around her feet.
Once their excitement settled, Yuzuki crouched down, her tone turning just a bit more serious but still gentle. “Oh! Umhh.......can I ask you all for a favor?” The Korobokkurus leaned in, eager and attentive. “If Baby Boy, I mean the ghost boy—ever comes back here looking all roughed up or gets himself into trouble, can you let me know right away? Like, ASAP. Just come find me, okay?”
They nodded in unison, their tiny faces solemn with determination. “I see you!” one piped up as if trying to say “We promise!“, while another added, “I see you, I see you....!!!” as if trying to say “We’ll watch out for him!”
Yuzuki’s smile softened with relief. “Thank you, my little heroes. I’ll get you guys gummies too!” She gave them a quick wave, straightened up, and headed for the door. “Alright, I’m off—gotta get back to class before I miss out on my lectures. See you later, Korobokkurus!”
With a final cheerful wave, she slipped out, leaving the Korobokkurus buzzing with pride over their new secret mission.
-Right after Kaito left Yuzuki in the Infirmary-
Kaito stood firm before the headmaster’s desk, voice unwavering. “I’m telling you, Sir. I saw an Akarui with my own two eyes!”
From his spot leaning against the wall, Shiranui Haruki, the Student Council President, shrugged, his girlfriend Aihara Nozomi at his side. “But I haven’t seen anything all day, Kaito.”
Kurosawa Ren, the Student Council Vice President, stepped forward, his tone measured but insistent. “Still, there’s no reason not to be cautious. Sir, with your permission, we’d like to patrol the corridors—just to make sure.”
Yakumo Toma, Class 3B’s homeroom teacher, nodded in agreement. “Yes, good idea. Given how the Music Teacher reacted so violently, we need to clarify the situation—make sure it was pure impulse and not something supernatural at play.”
The headmaster, Kanzaki Ryouma, considered them for a moment before nodding. “Alright. You five can do whatever you need within the school premises if it means ensuring the safety of staff and students. Just don’t disrupt the functioning of the school.”
With the headmaster’s approval, the group exchanged determined glances, ready to take on whatever mysteries the school might be hiding.
-After the meeting with the Headmaster-
The Student Council Room filled with a sense of urgency as the five gathered around the meeting table. Kaito unfurled the school map, flattening it with both hands.
“Alright. Listen up, Exorcists!” he said, voice low but commanding. “Given the school’s layout, the fastest way to sweep all the corridors—without wasting time on classrooms—is to start from the 2nd Floor. The Music Room on the 3rd is closest to the 2nd, and since the 2nd Floor has windows on both sides, we can clear the coast much faster. Odds are, if anything’s still lurking, it’ll be there.”
Haruki, the President, crossed his arms, considering. “Makes sense. We can split into pairs and cover more ground. Nozomi and I will take the east wing. Ren, you and Toma-sensei handle the west. Kaito, you coordinate from the central stairwell—if you spot anything, signal us.”
Nozomi gave a quick nod, already pulling out her phone to set up a group chat for instant updates. Ren traced the route on the map with his finger, double-checking the exits. “Let’s move quickly and stay in contact. If anyone sees anything weird—anything at all—report in immediately.”
Toma-sensei adjusted his glasses, his expression serious. “And remember, don’t try to confront anything alone. If it’s supernatural, we handle it together.”
Kaito looked around at the group, determination shining in his eyes. “Alright, let’s move. We’re not letting anything slip through the cracks tonight.”
With a final glance at the map, the team split up, each member ready to face whatever might be haunting the halls of the school.
-Back to Present-
The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Yuzuki’s classroom, casting golden rectangles across the polished wooden floor. The air was thick with the quiet concentration of students bent over their Japanese textbooks, the soft scratch of pencils and the occasional flip of a page the only sounds.
At the front of the room, the Japanese teacher stood by the blackboard, chalk poised mid-sentence as she guided the class through a difficult grammar point. Her voice was calm and measured, weaving through the rows of desks.
But from the far corner of the classroom, nearest the door and the corridor wall, a low murmur began to ripple. At first, it was just a whisper—barely more than a breath—but it quickly grew, drawing the attention of those seated nearby. A few students wrinkled their noses, exchanging uneasy glances. Someone shifted in their seat, trying to subtly sniff the air.
The murmurs grew louder, curiosity and confusion spreading like a wave. Heads turned, one by one, until nearly the entire class was craning their necks toward the back corner. The teacher, noticing the sudden shift in attention, paused and set her chalk down with a soft clack.
She turned, her gaze sharp behind her glasses. “Gakusei-tachi, sokode nani ga okotte iru ndesu ka?” she asked, her tone both gentle and commanding. (What’s going on there, students?)
One of the boys in the corner, his face scrunched in discomfort, raised his hand hesitantly. “Sensei, nankahen’na nioi ga shimasu.” (There’s some kind of weird smell, Sensei.)
His friend beside him nodded, fanning the air in front of his nose. “Ē! Nanika no kōro no nioi mitai na.” (Yeah! Like the smell of some sort of burnt incense.)
The teacher’s brow furrowed as she stepped down from the platform, her shoes tapping softly against the floor. The rest of the class watched in tense silence, the usual classroom order broken by this strange disturbance. Some students covered their noses, others whispered guesses—maybe someone had left a lunchbox too long, or maybe it was a prank.
But as the teacher approached the corner, the scent grew stronger—a sharp, acrid tang, unmistakably smoky, with a faint undertone of something sweet and ancient, like incense left to smolder too long. It clung to the air, curling into the students’ nostrils and settling uneasily in their chests.
Yuzuki, seated a few rows away, felt a chill run down her spine.
As the teacher moved to stand among the boys complaining about the smell, the atmosphere in the corner felt heavier, almost electric. Above them, pressed into the shadows where the ceiling met the wall, the supernatural entity crept—its form warped and unsettling, with tendrils of smoke curling off its emaciated body. Yuzuki’s gaze flickered upward, her stomach knotting as she tried to decipher what it was or what it wanted.
What is that thing exactly? And what does it want? Yuzuki wondered, her expression twisting in discomfort as she watched its ugly, unnatural silhouette. The rest of the class remained oblivious, convinced something mundane—a burning lunchbox, maybe—was the cause, when in reality, nothing physical was burning at all.
Suddenly, Ayaka stood up, her voice cutting through the tension. “Sensei, I think something from the other class is burning. Maybe we should all get out of class and check, cause if there’s a fire in the other class it’ll take quite a time for us to escape.”
The suggestion sent a ripple of panic through the students. Bags were hastily zipped, books shoved into backpacks, chairs scraped against the floor as everyone prepared for a possible evacuation.
Reina, sitting just behind Yuzuki, leaned forward, her voice low and skeptical. “That makes no sense! How is us getting out now gonna make getting out easier later on? And what guarantee do we even have that the other class is on fire? If that was true, the students from the other class would’ve already run out.” Only Yuzuki caught her words.
“My exact point,” Yuzuki replied quietly, her eyes never leaving the supernatural on the ceiling.
The teacher, caught between Ayaka’s concern and the students’ growing anxiety, nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll go check with the other class. Stay prepared to escape if so.” With that, she left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Ayaka, still standing, addressed the class with a calm authority. “Everyone. Please do not panic. Just stay calm and think positive at all costs!” She then sat back down, her posture graceful and composed.
From across the room, Himari shot Ayaka a pointed up-and-down glance, her annoyance clear. It was as if she was silently questioning why Ayaka was taking over the prefect’s duties from the front seat, a role that belonged to Himari herself.
All the while, the supernatural presence remained, coiled and watchful, its motives as unreadable as its shifting, smoky form. Yuzuki’s nerves were taut, her mind racing for answers as the ordinary world teetered on the edge of something far stranger.
-A few moments after Rin left the Left Wing, leaving Yuzuki alone-
The silence in the freshly cleaned ground-floor classroom shattered as Haruki’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking. “My, my. What’s a janitor doing here?” he drawled, his gaze cold and calculating. “Trying to scare away the Akarui?” His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, the kind that suggested he already knew more than he let on.
To be Continued....
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