Don’t Leave Your Children Unattended

Mutsuki arrived early for a change.

An amusing miracle worth teasing him about. An heir who had things catered to him, to an idol who arrived fashionably late.

However, the truth for the change was far less dignified. He had not managed to catch Youchan for dinner in days. Their schedules slid past each other and he had decided that if evenings kept failing him then perhaps mornings would be more merciful.

There is no chance that I would pass out mid-breakfast at least! Or so Mutsuki thought.

The shrine was usually already awake when he arrived.

There was a comforting rhythm to it that he had grown used to. Youchan hummed softly while sorting through the children’s toys and books for the day. The kettle clicked as it heated. The faint, unmissable pressure of the barrier humming around the torii as it allowed Mutsuki and the children in, much like a living thing breathing alongside the shrine itself.

Today, there was none of that.

Odd… Mutsuki paused at the threshold, one hand still resting on the sliding door as he assessed the scenario.

His body registered the change before his mind caught up to it. He listened, not just with his ears but with the deeper spatial awareness he usually carefully folded away.

No footsteps. No voice. No subtle shift of magic adjusting itself around him in quiet response to his presence.

This is bad… Youchan would never leave the barriers unattended without warning me, not even for a moment.

‘Youchan?’ Mutsuki called. No answer came back.

He ran in without removing his shoes. Mutsuki didn’t want to scare anyone off with the amount of aura he possessed, so he’d always avoided using it to solve anything that can be solved by normal means. But Youchan’s sake, he let his senses spread outward in a way he normally avoided inside the shrine out of respect and restraint.

He reached deeper and used the power that came to him as naturally as breathing. Sound, vibration, presence. It was a skill born of prodigy rather than training. Something that would have taken most gifted humans decades to refine, but for Mutsuki, it unfolded effortlessly, mapping space through resonance and echo, locating the subtle signature of a living aura.

Kitchen. He found her almost instantly.

Mutsuki rushed forward without bothering to slow himself, sliding across the floor and nearly colliding with the counter as he entered the room. Youchan was collapsed on the floor, one hand still clutched a brush as if she had simply run out of strength mid-motion, the other curled weakly near her chest. Her hair had slipped loose from its ribbon, strands clinging to her cheek. Her face was pale, lips faintly parted, her breath was shallow but steady.

He crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees beside her.

‘Youchan!’ he said urgently. There was no response.

He placed his hands near her chest and shoulder, letting healing magic unfurl cautiously, probing for injury or imbalance, but it slid off uselessly, finding nothing to mend. Her body was sound. Her spirit was intact. There was no wound to close, no fracture to knit, no curse to unravel.

Nothing except depletion. The realization hit Mutsuki harder than any diagnosis could have.

Mutsuki swallowed and tried to steady his breathing as he gathered her carefully into his arms. He had practiced this exact motion a thousand times in his head but never hoped to use it on a situation like this. Her head fell against his shoulder. Her breath brushed his collarbone. She stirred faintly but did not wake.

‘Alright,’ he murmured despite the spike of panic. ‘I’ve got you.’

He carried her to her room, slid the door shut with his foot, and laid her gently on the futon. He removed her outer layers, loosened the charms at her wrists, brushed hair away from her face.

Mutsuki tried to heal her with soft magic. Diagnostic threads, the kind Maria had taught him to use when he was still learning restraint. They passed over her like water over stone.

Nothing? I couldn’t do anything?

‘Damn it,’ Mutsuki muttered under his breath. He pulled his hand back and fumbled for his phone. Maria answered on the second ring.

‘You sound tense,’ she said immediately. ‘What happened.’

‘Youchan collapsed,’ Mutsuki said, skipping pleasantries entirely. ‘She’s breathing, she’s stable, but the barrier is weak. I can’t find anything wrong with her body. And I can’t heal her.’

There was a pause on the other end.

‘Overexertion,’ Maria finally said. ‘I suspected it. The interschool meet required continuous portal stabilization, layered barriers, and constant adjustment for unpredictable traffic. She didn’t delegate.’

As if summoned by her own stubbornness, Youchan stirred faintly and groaned.

‘Cancel today’s class, Mutsuki.’ Maria commanded.

Mutsuki stood up to follow, but Youchan caught his hands again.

‘No… don’t…’ she murmured. ‘I’m fine. I can still—’

‘No,’ Mutsuki said immediately. ‘You cannot.’

She frowned weakly at him, offended even through exhaustion. ‘Mutsuki, the parents—’

‘I will handle them,’ he interrupted without raising his voice, but without yielding an inch. ‘You rest.’

Maria snickered. ‘Oh, this is delightful,’ she said. ‘You’re finally growing a spine.’

‘Maria-sama,’ Youchan said as she pushed herself up slightly.

‘Lie down,’ Mutsuki said as he pressed her back gently. ‘You’ve been holding this shrine together on sheer willpower. That and most of Tokyo’s , if not all. I won’t let you burn yourself out just to prove you can do more.’

The room fell quiet for a moment. Maria coughed to signify she’s still on the line.

‘I’ll notify the parents,’ Maria continued. ‘Classes will be reduced. Youchan is stepping back immediately.’

She hung up before either of them could respond.

Youchan sighed. ‘You’re stubborn.’ Her eyes closed again as the fight drained out of her.

Mutsuki exhaled slowly. ‘Learned from the best.’

He tucked protective charms around her, layered blankets infused with restorative magic, and adjusted the room’s spiritual flow so it would feed her rather than drain her. And for final touch, sang her a lullaby that knocked her out.

When Youchan finally settled into deeper sleep, Mutsuki lingered for a moment just to watch her chest rise and fall.

Ok, so if I am not the one passing out at night for dinners, Youchan is the one who passes out at breakfasts. It’s as if it just wasn’t meant to be…

‘Sensei?’

That was fast. Maria must’ve sorted the portals herself…

The children were already gathering in the courtyard. Some buzzed with expectation, some suspicious of Youchan’s absence.

Mutsuki raised a hand.

‘Brief announcement,’ he said. ‘Today’s lesson is in the garden. You’ll be working on herb identification and spiritual grounding exercises. Pairs only. No running.’

Groans and wails from tiny yokais filled the otherwise sunny and happy garden.

‘Sensei, the PE festival meet—’

‘Is mostly speeches today,’ he added mildly. ‘Very boring ones.’

Youchan’s laughter drifted faintly from inside. Mutsuki exhaled visibly after hearing that.

‘Youchan is under the weather today, so please, if everyone could behave yourselves?’

A collective ‘HAI!!!’ reverberated in the shrine.

Mutsuki helped each child put on their gardening clothes before leaving them to their own devices.

‘You know what to do. Stay visible. Stay together. Kojiro, you’re on lookout.’

And then he had gone back inside to Youchan. The children noticed immediately and haven’t complained.

Kojiro stood near the torii with rigid posture. He wasn’t pretending to study moss today. Sumire organized the others without being asked.

‘Pairs,’ she said. ‘No wandering. We are collecting medicinal herbs, not discovering new problems.’

Mon saluted sloppily. ‘Yes, Your Highness of Dirt.’

Gon snorted. ‘You’re just mad because you can’t smell plants.’

‘I do not smell,’ Sumire snapped. ‘I sense.’

Honey crouched near a patch of low-growing leaves. ‘These are good for fevers,’ he said softly. ‘Youchan uses them sometimes for us.’

Meow nodded. ‘She dries them by the window.’

Kishin swallowed. ‘Sensei said… it helps people who work too hard.’

They worked quietly and peacefully for a change. The children did their assignments orderly and was getting ready to present Youchan the herbs they collected.

‘Someone’s inside,’ Kojiro said under his breath.

The barrier had thinned because Youchan was sick. Plus Mutsuki was inside, pouring his power into looking for ways to stabilize her instead of the shrine.

A small human girl walked just past the torii. She stared at the shrine like she’d walked into the wrong dream.

Panic tried to bloom but Kojiro crushed it instantly. ‘Transform,’ he hissed.

Magic flared. The kids weren’t graceful and perfect but at least they were fast. Ears vanished. Tails tucked. Auras compressed into fragile human shapes like folding too much truth into paper dolls.

The girl clutched a backpack too big for her shoulders. Her eyes darted wildly between trees, stone lanterns, and eight children who had all gone very still.

‘…Um,’ she said. ‘Is this… a private garden?’

‘Hello,’ Sumire said sweetly. ‘Are you lost?’

The girl nodded. ‘I was chasing my dog and then he ran through the gate and—’ She gestured helplessly. ‘This place looked differently before.’

Honey stepped beside Sumire to offer back up. ‘Dogs do that.’

‘He’s small,’ the girl said. ‘Brown. Loud. His name is Pochi.’

Mon brightened despite himself. ‘Oh. Loud is good. We can find him easier.’

Gon elbowed him. ‘Not helpful.’

Kojiro moved subtly and placed himself between the girl and the inner shrine path.

‘We can help you find him,’ Meow said with sincere yet trembling voice. ‘You don’t have to be scared.’

‘Okay.’ The little girl wiped her tears away. She was impressed by another girl encouraging her to be strong whilst shaking herself. 

The kids split roles without speaking.

Kojiro, Sumire, and Kishin stayed back, guarding the shrine side. Kojiro’s gaze never left the barrier. Kishin clutched his bat like a talisman of courage. Sumire’s water aura hovered. Ready not anything but restrained for the moment.

The others searched and worked together. Honey followed sound. Akashi tracked scent. Gon and Mon moved fast, darting between trees while calling softly. Meow stayed beside the girl.

Pochi was eventually found barking furiously at the koi in the pond on the back. The reunion was loud and joyful. The girl laughed and hugged her dog tightly.

‘Thank you!’ she said as she bowed clumsily. ‘You’re all really nice!’

The glamour slipped a little. Mon’s tail flicked. The girl stared. Everyone froze.

‘…Is that,’ she asked carefully, ‘part of the garden?’

Gon leaned in instantly. ‘Yes.’

‘Very advanced landscaping,’ Honey added solemnly.

The girl considered this. ‘Okay.’ She shrugged.

They walked her back to the gate. She waved once more before stepping out.

‘Bye!’

The barrier settled. The children exhaled.

‘We didn’t mess up,’ Meow whispered.

‘I was afraid we’d have to do something about her if she find out our secret’ Honey said, to everyone’s surprise.

‘We didn’t need Sensei,’ Kishin said with awe all over his tiny face.

Kojiro turned back toward the shrine. ‘We did exactly what he trusted us to do.’

Inside, Mutsuki knelt beside Youchan’s futon, unaware of how close the shrine had come to disaster.

And how well his students had held the line.