CHAPTER XXVII
-Exorcist Speedrun: Any%-
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.
“Alright, you Walmart Halloween rejects—let’s see if you can handle some real heat!” he called out, launching the kendama’s red ball up with a flick of his wrist. The ball soared, arcing through the air, and Rin yanked the string, sending it whipping around a branch and smacking one of the Akarui square in the mask.
The creature recoiled, hissing, as Rin hopped back, knees bent in perfect kendama form. “Bro, you really thought you could just vibe here and not get clapped? Nah, chief, not on my watch!” He spun the kendama again, this time catching the ball in the big cup (ozara), then launching it with a smooth tomeken spike straight at another Akarui, knocking it off balance.
The remaining three lunged, their limbs twisting unnaturally. Rin sidestepped, grinning. “Y’all move like my WiFi on a Monday morning—laggy and tragic!” He ducked under a swipe, then swung the kendama’s string, tangling up another creature’s arm. “Get good, scrub!” he taunted, yanking the string and sending the Akarui crashing into its buddy.
One tried to drop down on him from above, but Rin leapt back, pulling off a flashy hikoki (airplane) trick, the ball spinning up and catching the creature right in its mask. “Airstrike! Boom! That’s what I call a headshot, my guy!”
The last Akarui hissed, mask cracked, and lunged desperately. Rin caught the kendama’s ball in the small cup (kozara), winked at Yuzuki, and flicked it with a flourish. “And for my final trick—get ratio’d!” The ball smacked the creature, sending it tumbling from the tree.
Rin dusted off his hands, spinning the kendama on his finger. “Easy dubs. L Bozo. Now, about those gummies—you better have the sour ones. I didn’t tank a slap for nothing!”
He shot a goofy, triumphant grin, his energy infectious even as the supernatural threat faded from the branches above. But he wasn’t done yet.
“Alright, time for the grand finale—check this out!” he called, spinning his kendama with a flashy flourish. With a quick, practiced motion, he launched into a perfect goon circle—the kendama’s ball and ken spinning in a wild, controlled arc around him.
The five Akarui, their red smiles gleaming, lunged from the branches. He just grinned wider. “Y’all really lining up for the L? Say less!” He whipped the kendama in a tight, circular motion, the string slicing through the air as the ball and ken spun faster and faster, forming a deadly orbit.
“Welcome to the blender, fam!” he cackled, voice echoing across the schoolyard. The spinning kendama swept through the cluster of Akarui, cracking masks and splattering ghostly blood everywhere. The creatures shrieked as the kendama’s arc caught them all in one devastating circle, their forms unraveling in a burst of red and white.
Blood splashed across his hoodie and face, but he just laughed, striking a victory pose with the kendama balanced on his finger. “Easy claps! That’s how you clear a lobby. Now, where my gummies at? Running low on ghost juice and vibes!”
He wiped a streak of blood from his cheek, still grinning, and added, “Yo, someone clip that for the highlight reel. Ghost exorcist speedrun, any percent!”
The last wisps of the Akarui faded from the branches, their sinister smiles finally gone, as he spun his kendama one last time—mischievous, cool, and totally unfazed.
Yuzuki’s knees buckled, and she dropped to her feet, the world spinning for a moment. The vivid splash of blood across Rin’s hoodie and face—so sudden, so real—hit her like a punch to the gut. Her breath caught; the metallic scent mingled with the lingering incense, and for a split second, she wasn’t on the school ground anymore.
Her mind reeled, yanked back to memories she tried desperately to bury: the cold grip of cuffs on her wrists, the rough drag of her body across the ground, voices chanting in the dark, the taste of fear thick in her mouth. The ritual. The blood. The helplessness. It all crashed over her in a wave—her heart hammered, her skin prickled cold, and a tremor ran through her hands as she pressed them to the earth for stability.
Her vision blurred at the edges, the present moment flickering in and out with flashes of the past. The laughter and bravado around her faded, replaced by the echo of ritual drums and the terror of being marked as a sacrifice. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe—her chest tight, every instinct screaming to run, to hide, to disappear.
But the world didn’t stop. The schoolyard sounds slowly bled back in, and Yuzuki forced herself to focus, grounding her fingers in the dirt, fighting to separate now from then. The psychological toll was raw and immediate: fear, confusion, and the sickening memory of powerlessness, all triggered by the simple, visceral sight of blood.
As the confusion began to clear on the school ground and students slowly regained their senses, Rin swaggered up, flicking blood off his kendama. “Yo, so about my gummies—” he started, but before he could finish, Yuzuki grabbed his wrist in a tight, urgent grip and pulled him away from the crowd.
The two darted across the field, weaving past clusters of dazed classmates, until they slipped out of sight toward the outdoor sink area (水道 / 手洗い場) near the edge of the schoolyard. The concrete basin stretched long, lined with metal taps and foot pedals, a few stray buckets and soap trays scattered nearby. The area was quiet, the chaos of the schoolyard muffled by distance and the trickle of water.
Yuzuki’s hands shook as she dug her phone from her pocket, popped off the case, and pulled out her carefully folded handkerchief. She replaced the case, pocketed her phone, and pressed her foot to a pedal, sending cold water splashing from the tap. Kneeling, she soaked the cloth, then turned to Rin, who watched her with a sly, expectant look.
Without a word, she began gently wiping the blood from his cheek. Rin’s eyes fluttered shut, his usual bravado softening for a moment as he leaned into the cool touch. When she finished, Yuzuki stood, rinsed the handkerchief, and reached for his chin, lifting it just enough to push his hood back. She continued cleaning the blood from his face and neck, her movements careful and deliberate.
Rin cracked a grin, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, so, like, I’m still getting my gummies, right? This is, like, premium customer service, not gonna lie.”
Yuzuki’s heart clenched at the sight of him—this mischievous, childlike boy, dressed all in black with his cape and hood, splattered with blood from fighting monsters for her sake. She bit her lip, fighting back a wave of emotion.
She set the handkerchief aside, then gently pulled Rin’s hands toward the sink, helping him wash the blood from his fingers. As she did, she noticed a thin red thread wound around his wrist. When Rin started rubbing his hands together, she washed the handkerchief again, turned him to face her, and began wiping the blood from his clothes. Rin outstretched his arms, shaking them playfully to flick off the water, his cape fluttering behind him, the kendama still hanging from his belt.
He looked every bit the quirky, supernatural hero—the hood now pushed back, and the sly, irrepressible energy that made him seem so much larger than his small frame.
“Yo, next time, can we fight something that drops snacks instead of blood? Just saying, priorities,” Rin quipped, winking as Yuzuki finished cleaning him up.
As soon as Rin was cleaned up—his cape still damp, black clothes streaked but mostly free of blood—Yuzuki’s composure finally cracked. She lurched forward, arms flung wide, and threw them around his neck, enveloping him in a tight, desperate hug.
Her grip was fierce, almost crushing, as if she was trying to anchor herself to the present, to something safe and real after the chaos and trauma she’d just witnessed. The sensation of his small, solid frame pressed against her chest was grounding—a stark contrast to the cold fear and helplessness that had just flooded her system.
She squeezed him tighter, her cheek pressed against the scratchy fabric of his hooded cape, breathing in the faint scent of soap and the lingering metallic tang of blood. Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a moment, she let herself just feel the warmth and security of the embrace, letting the tension bleed out of her shoulders.
Rin, caught off guard, blinked, then let out a low, playful whistle. “DAMN, didn’t know I was getting VIP hugs today. Is this part of the gummy reward program or what?” His words were light, but he didn’t pull away—just stood there, arms slightly outstretched, letting her hold on as long as she needed.
For Yuzuki, the hug was more than comfort—it was a lifeline, a silent thank you, and a desperate plea for reassurance all at once. The world felt a little less heavy in that moment, her breathing slowing as she clung to him, the chaos outside the sink area fading into the background.
As Yuzuki still clung to Rin, the world narrowing to the warmth of their embrace, Rin’s head jerked up, eyes sharpening. He caught the faintest whisper of footsteps—so light, only someone with his supernatural senses would notice. Instantly, his whole vibe shifted from mischievous to alert.
“Hold up, NPC, we got company,” he whispered, a sly grin flickering across his face as he reached for his kendama. With a practiced flick, he launched the red ball upward, the string unfurling in a perfect arc. The ball hooked onto the edge of the rooftop’s platform, the thread winding around a metal beam with mechanical precision.
“Time to yeet!” Rin announced, his tone pure Gen Z chaos. He slipped an arm around Yuzuki’s waist, holding her steady. Before she could process, he pressed her closer, and with a swift, practiced tug, the kendama’s thread snapped taut, zipping both of them skyward in a blur—like a supernatural Ladybug and Chat Noir duo, but with more attitude and less spandex.
The world became a rush of wind and adrenaline as they soared up the side of the building, Yuzuki’s hair whipping around her face, her heart leaping into her throat. Rin’s laughter echoed in her ear: “Bro, this is peak main character energy—don’t drop your phone, speedster!”
As they zipped up, Rin caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye—Kisaragi Ayaka, her blue hair unmistakable, standing just beyond the edge of the building, watching them with wide, calculating eyes.
Rin’s grip tightened just a bit, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Heads up, we got blue-haired plot twist incoming. Bet.”
They landed lightly atop the rooftop platform, the kendama’s thread recoiling with a snap. Rin’s cape fluttered behind him, his energy undimmed, as he helped Yuzuki steady herself. “You good, glitch? That was, like, S-tier getaway. 10/10, would zip again.”
Below, the confusion and chaos of the schoolyard seemed far away, but the presence of Ayaka—watching, waiting—hinted that the next twist was already on its way.
Rin, ever the showman, peeked over the edge of the rooftop and spotted Ayaka below. He immediately started waving down with one hand, his grin wide and mischievous. With the other hand cupped near his mouth, he shouted down, “Yo, blue streak! You tryna speedrun the main quest or just here for the side missions?”
Before he could escalate the spectacle, Yuzuki lunged, grabbing hold of his mouth and yanking him down beside her. Rin let out a muffled, “Mmmph—bruh, chill!” as he was pulled out of sight.
Ayaka, catching the bizarre rooftop scene, hesitated for a split second before spinning on her heel and rushing away, her blue hair vanishing behind the building. The rooftop, now quiet, echoed with Rin’s muffled giggles as Yuzuki kept a firm hand over his mouth, both of them hidden from sight.
“Baby Boy. Do you have any idea what sort of problems that will create for me?” Yuzuki demanded, exasperation clear in her voice as she glared at him.
Rin just shrugged, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Do I? Maybe, maybe not. That’s just lore drop, fam. Gotta keep life spicy.”
Yuzuki sighed, frustration mixing with curiosity. She glanced down at Rin, his head comfortably resting on her folded legs, and pressed on, “But my biggest question is…”
She leaned in, voice suddenly sharp and loud, “WHAT ARE THOSE CREATURES THAT ATTACKED US JUST NOW? I’m aware of the fact that they feed on anger, resentment, and jealousy, but what are they—”
Rin’s playful energy dropped for a heartbeat, his eyes suddenly cold. “Akarui,” he said, the word slicing through the air.
He rolled onto his back, looking up at her, then broke the tension with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, those things? Straight-up emotional WiFi leeches. They see a bunch of teens beefing and go ‘bet, dinner’s served.’ Whole vibe is ironic too—‘Akarui’ means ‘bright,’ but they’re just out here making everyone’s day dark mode.”
He propped himself up on his elbows, getting animated. “You ever notice how people just start beefing over nothing? Like, one second it’s ‘pass the eraser,’ next second it’s WWE in the classroom. That’s them. They don’t throw hands—they just crank up the drama meter and let everyone else do the heavy lifting.”
He mimed a mask with his hands, twisting his face into a mock grin. “White mask, red smile, floaty as heck, smells like someone’s burning incense and regrets. If you look too long, it’s like the mask is smiling inside your brain, bro.”
He waggled his fingers, imitating claws. “They’re all, like, ‘yo, what are you really thinking?’ and suddenly people are dropping their darkest hot takes. Afterward, everyone’s like, ‘wait, did I just roast my bestie over a pencil?’ Peak gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss energy.”
Rin flopped back down, arms behind his head. “They love crowds, especially schools. More people, more drama, more snacks. But get this—if you hit ’em with pure silence or, like, a group therapy circle, they just nope out. Emotional stillness? Hard counter.”
He flashed her a peace sign, grinning. “So yeah, next time you feel the urge to start a soap opera over nothing, check for floating masks. Or just vibe in silence. Trust.”
Yuzuki let out a long, weary sigh, the weight of everything settling on her shoulders.This boy.....when I asked him the first time.....he didn’t even bother answering. And now he does. What an unpredictable ghost.Yuzuki thought.
To be Continued...
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