CHAPTER XXXVII
-Graveyard of Kurokawa High-
As Yuzuki and Mofumi rounded a little-known corridor on the ground floor, they slipped out a side exit and found themselves in the school’s shadowed backyard—a place Yuzuki had never stepped foot in before. The unfamiliarity made her uneasy, eyes flicking nervously from one overgrown patch to another as they walked.
Mofumi led the way, wings flickering in the gentle breeze. “Yuzuki, there are two types of supernaturals,” he began. “Some are born from nature itself—what we call ‘spirit born.’ Others are chosen by God to become supernaturals; we call these ‘physical supernaturals.’ Most spirit-borns don’t have physical bodies—though there are exceptions. Physicals, on the other hand, look just like humans. And here’s a rule: you can’t enter a spirit born’s boundary, or home, without their presence or permission. But with physicals? Permission doesn’t matter. And, depending on power or ranking, supernaturals can choose, or be allowed by God, to be visible or invisible to humans. Like the Korobokkurus—spirit borns who decide if they want to be seen. Rin, however, cannot show himself. That’s due to God’s will—and his own lack of power.”
“Aha? I see…” Yuzuki replied, still taking in every detail of the yard as she tried to keep pace with Mofumi’s supernatural logic. “So this ‘certain spirit’ you mentioned—he’s a spirit born, and you can’t enter his territory without permission?”
“No. I can enter anyone’s territory, anytime,” Mofumi corrected smoothly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m the Petling Leader. I can invade or dissolve spiritual territories to keep the balance.”
“Huh? Order? What do you mean, order?” Yuzuki frowned, “Aren’t the exorcists just trying to seal the gate—?”
She was interrupted by Mofumi, his tone suddenly more serious. “They’re sealing the gate to send us back to the supernatural world. That’s different. We supernaturals have our own hierarchy, our own conflicts. If those spill over, or go unchecked, both worlds get hurt. My job—appointed by God—is to keep the peace.”
“You’re…a spirit born supernatural, right?” Yuzuki asked, suspicion and curiosity mingling in her tone.
Mofumi only smiled, his eyes brighter than ever. “Welcome. Welcome to the Graveyard of Kurokawa High.”
Yuzuki’s jaw dropped. Before her stretched a field dense with gravestones—their faces etched with names, both old…and heartbreakingly new. Among them, she recognized the names of the three missing girls from her class—written alongside others long dead.
Her mouth went dry. “Wha-wha-what is this?” Yuzuki stammered, horror and disbelief battling on her face.
Mofumi, with an unreadable smile, circled behind her and gave her arm a gentle, insistent nudge forward, propelling her closer to the grave markers.
A sudden chill brushed Yuzuki’s cheek—a cool drizzle tapped her nose. She glanced upward: the sky had soured to a steely grey, clouds collapsing and swirling above as if the world itself had drawn a new breath. Then, with no warning, rain cascaded in sheets, the air splitting with the first rumble of thunder. The graveyard’s moss and stone blurred in the downpour.
Behind Mofumi, the very earth trembled. With a low groan, the ground ripped open—the entire graveyard sliding backwards, gravestones dragging into the darkness, revealing a gaping black pit at its heart. The rain, suddenly heavier, fell into that void and vanished without a trace.
Mofumi straightened, landing squarely on his paws. His fur was lit by quick, cold flashes of lightning. “Yuzuki. Follow me,” he commanded, his tone low but insistent.
Without waiting, the petling leader padded forward on all fours, slipping to the pit’s edge. There, he vanished downward, as if descending a staircase none but he could see—his white shape swallowed immediately by the darkness.
Yuzuki’s pulse hammered in her chest, the sound nearly drowning out the hiss of the rain and the roll of thunder. Fear licked at her thoughts, but she edged forward, battling it back.
She took a steadying breath and stepped after Mofumi, slipping into the pit. The world above was quickly blotted out; shadows folded around her, and beneath her feet, the descent felt angled, as if she were walking down unseen steps. She peered ahead, but Mofumi’s pale form had vanished, lost completely to the midnight black.
Within the endless dark, echoes rose: the gentle tap… tap… tap of water droplets somewhere deep below. Each ripple traveled outward, carrying her thoughts further away from the world of the living. The memories of the Ink Realm began to press at the ruins of her mind, surging forth—fragments of half-lost moments, feelings both terrifying and beautiful, all flooding back as her footsteps took her further from the surface. Her identity, her purpose, all the wounds and reconciliations she’d endured began bleeding together in the silence, drawn by the threads of fate binding her to this supernatural path.
“WHAAT? It’s RAINING?” shrieked the girls scattered across the running arena, panic and surprise igniting the field all at once.
“Ugh, my hair!”
“We didn’t even finish the second round!”
“Run, you’re gonna get soaked!”
A few squealed as water flecked their faces, arms thrown up as they started bolting for the school building, clutching water bottles and shoes.
The boys erupted in equal chaos near the open area:
“DUDE! Sudden downpour?”
“Quick, cover the soccer balls!”
“Grab the cones, hurry!”
Some cheered, laughing and pushing each other as they dashed under the sudden barrage, while others sprinted clumsily for their shoes and gear abandoned on the grass.
Coach Nakamura didn’t miss a beat. Raising his whistle, he blasted three sharp notes.
“EVERYONE! Stop what you’re doing and get back to your classroom—NOW!”
He waved his arms, corralling the scattering students.
“Let’s move it—no dawdling! Leave the gear, just go! Everyone, inside!”
Kaito and Himari instantly clicked into leader mode, cutting through the downpour.
“Let’s go! Form a line—no pushing! Keep moving!” Himari shouted, her voice authoritative even through the chaos.
“Yo, grab your stuff—single file, c’mon!” Kaito yelled, ushering drenched classmates away from the field.
As the classmates shuffled and jogged for the school, Kaito spotted Reina dashing alone toward the doors. He sprinted after her and grabbed her arm, breath ragged.
“HEY! Where’s Yuzuki?!”
Reina shook him off, face agitated in the rain. “I don’t know! I’ve been looking for her too, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
Kaito’s eyes went wide, a surge of fear replacing all other thoughts. He spun, waving at Himari across the puddled grass.
“Everyone, get to your classrooms right now!” he yelled, voice sharper than before. “NO WAITING AROUND—MOVE!”
He bolted toward the back of the field, ignoring the chorus of questions behind him.
Himari, catching his sudden departure, called after him, “KAITO-KUN! Where are you going?!”
Kaito didn’t slow, shouting back over his shoulder, “TO FIND YUZUKI!”
With that, he disappeared into the gray curtain of rain, determination plastered across his face, leaving his classmates under Himari’s command as the storm thundered overhead.
As Yuzuki descended deeper into the black pit, her voice echoed faintly, trembling with uncertainty. “Mofumi, you’re still here, right?” she called out, but no answer came back.
Her heart pounded fiercely, each beat loud in the oppressive silence. The darkness pressed in, impenetrable and cold. Her pupils dilated painfully wide, burning her eyes with the strain of trying to see even a hint of light.
Suddenly, soft, chilling sounds trickled into the darkness—a woman’s weeping, low and mournful, rising and falling like a sorrowful tide. Teardrops seemed to fall in the silence, their rhythm echoing like distant raindrops in a cave.
“Mofumi?” Yuzuki’s voice cracked as she called again, but the pit swallowed her words, offering only the haunting sobs in reply.
Then, she felt it—a cold, wet trickle against her socks. A heavy, pressing sensation filled her shoes, like a thick, sticky liquid pooling around her feet. Taking a cautious step forward, she realized the staircase beneath her had vanished; her feet now walked on a narrow, uncertain path lost to the shadows.
“MOFUMI!” Yuzuki screamed, desperation flaring. The weeping intensified, now surround-sounding—wailing, almost desperate, filling the air with raw grief and sorrow.
The darkness closed tighter around her, the sound of those invisible tears and the weight beneath her feet threatening to swallow her whole. Fear clawed at her mind as she struggled to move forward, not knowing what awaited in that suffocating abyss.
Suddenly, a spark of light flashed from the front right of her, piercing through the darkness. The entire space ignited softly, revealing a murky, ethereal forest path much like the one shown in the image .
Yuzuki’s breath caught in her throat. Though muted and veiled in an otherworldly haze, the scenery was hauntingly beautiful—an endless canopy of gnarled trees arching over still, shallow waters. Above it all, Mofumi floated gracefully, his small wings fluttering as he called out, “Hurry up, Yuzuki,” then began moving deeper into the forest.
Standing in the cold, low water, Yuzuki struggled to keep pace with his effortless glide. Each step was a slow, heavy drag as her feet sank slightly into the soft bottom, but she pressed on, determined.
As they ventured further, the mournful crying of the unseen woman grew louder and closer. The steady patter of raindrops fell from leaves above, rippling gently into the dark water below—a quiet, haunting hum beneath the sorrowful weeping.
“Where are we?” Yuzuki finally asked, her voice breaking the silence.
But Mofumi remained silent, drifting ahead with his wings fluttering just enough to keep him aloft. Her calls for him repeated, “Mofumi… I’m talking to you,” but he offered no answer, only guiding her deeper still through the shadowed wilderness.
Eventually, the dense forest opened to reveal something new—a moss-covered stone staircase ascending through ancient trees toward what appeared to be a shrine gate. The scene was thick with a quiet reverence, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and lingering incense.
Together, they climbed, step by slow step, the ascent taking nearly ten minutes. The water below gave way to carved stone beneath her feet, the light growing steadier as they approached this mysterious, sacred place.
Yuzuki’s thoughts swirled—haunted by the crying and the endless questions, yet drawn forward by the unseen threads of fate binding her to this eerie journey.
As they finally reached the shrine, its towering wooden doors looming solemnly before them, Mofumi shifted gracefully onto all four paws. With deliberate calm, he padded forward and placed a single paw gently against the closed door’s weathered surface. The ancient wood seemed to pulse faintly beneath his touch, as if recognizing the weight of what was to come.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open on their own, revealing the shrine’s interior. Yuzuki, standing just behind Mofumi, felt a wave of astonishment wash over her. The room was simple yet striking: tall, sturdy wooden pillars reached upward, supporting a spacious roof with open sides that allowed soft light to filter in gently from the surrounding forest. The interior was bathed in muted daylight, lending a calm, contemplative atmosphere to the space. The wooden floor was worn smooth, and the air carried a faint scent of aged cedar and distant incense, adding to the ancient, sacred ambiance—just like in the image she had seen.
As Yuzuki stepped inside, Mofumi’s voice broke the silence. “Yuzuki, from here on forth, I cannot accompany you. You must walk this path on your own. Only then will you be able to claim a memory worthy of you,” he said, his gaze fixed over his shoulder on her.
“Wh-what? H-how am I—” Yuzuki began, but Mofumi cut her off smoothly.
“This is the realm of Nakimes—the Weeping Women who mourn their losses. With the new rivalries brewing among supernaturals, these Nakimes seek to climb the hierarchy themselves. They appear to follow someone, though I cannot name who. Your task is to uncover who commands them and why they’ve chosen to capture supernaturals that threaten their rise,” he explained.
Yuzuki’s expression twisted in confusion as she processed his words, the weight of her journey just beginning to settle in.
Mofumi padded up behind Yuzuki and gave her a firm nudge, propelling her forward through the vast, shadowed hall. Fear churned in her stomach—she had no idea what awaited her in this endless space. The heavy atmosphere pressed down with an almost tangible weight.
Suddenly, in the center of the hall, ghostly figures began to materialize—floating spirits draped in flowing white dresses, their black silky hair cascading beneath delicate white veils that rested atop their dark heads. They circled slowly through the air with an eerie grace.
Then, from nowhere, a low wooden table appeared beneath their swirling formation. Beneath the table, incense sticks materialized and ignited, sending tendrils of fragrant smoke curling up into the air. The scent of cedar grew thick and potent, making Yuzuki’s nose swell and twitch involuntarily.
The spirits—these Nakimes—settled down around the table, their forms gently touching the ground. They began to weep and sob, their mournful cries rising louder and louder, a sound so piercing and full of sorrow that it felt like it might shatter her very heart.
Yuzuki’s breath hitched, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to run, yet something deeper pulled her forward. She swallowed hard, pressing a clenched fist against her chest to steady herself, then took a cautious step toward the mournful figures.
As she neared, the Nakimes suddenly faded into thin air, their spectral forms dissolving, leaving behind only the lingering scent of cedar and a crumpled piece of paper on the wooden floor.
With trembling hands, Yuzuki bent down and unfolded the fragile paper.
Above her, where the spirits had been, a haunting voice echoed softly in Japanese, the words flowing like a chilling whisper:
“Anata ga daredearou to —- wareware no ryōiki ni ashi o fumiireta to iu koto wa, wareware no chikara o koeta chikara o motte kita to iu kotoda.
Moshi hontōni sore o shōmei dekirunara, ike. Karera o mitsukero.”
(Translation: “Whoever you may be—the fact that you have set foot in our domain means you carry power beyond ours. If you can truly prove it, then go. Find them.”)
To be Continued...
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