Graduation Day

A yokai graduation day usually begins before sunrise.

Shrines buzzed in preparation a little bit louder than usual. Spirits drifted closer to the ground. Paper charms fluttered without any wind. Bells rang though no monk has touched them. Even the air feels expectant, as if the world itself knows something is about to change.

Thanks to Mutsuki’s work reinforcing the torii across Japan, every shrine is secured for the year. Give or take. Portals now opened cleanly, routes hold steady, and no one arrives where they are not meant to be. The once uncertain magical travel became more safe.

Because of that, the graduation gathering is held in a secret sacred ground in Kyoto, one of the most spiritually dense places in the world, threaded with tens of thousands of torii gates layered like veins of quiet power.

Come morning time, the grounds were alive.

Families arrive in every form imaginable. Some come fully human. Others wear their true nature with pride. Polished horns, braided tails and wings folded neatly beneath ceremonial robes. Elders move with slow certainty and sharp eyes full of centuries of judgment and pride. Younger siblings dart between them crackling with barely contained magic.

To an outsider, it looked like just a normal school function. To the ones inside, it was a day where endings and beginnings share the same breath.

The graduating yokai are dressed in uniforms according to their year level. Teachers circulate constantly as they fixed collars, tie charms, and murmur reminders and last-minute reminders about lyrics and steps.

The stage layered with protection. Human-visible decorations sit on top. Beneath them are wards, seals, and harmonics designed to stabilize emotions. Because an area full of powerful children feeling everything at once is not something anyone takes lightly.

Proud murmurs rippled through the crowd when a name is called and a child steps forward, bowing and paying respect in a way their yokai ancestors would recognize. Some parents cry openly. Some don’t cry at all, just bright red eyes.

Bearing the invisible weight of having made this day possible, Mutsuki arrived only after verifying that portal travel was stable and that all masking spells remained effective. Human perception was undisturbed. Yokai movement was secure. What appeared to be a cultural gathering was, in truth, a carefully balanced convergence of worlds.

With everything in order, he stepped into the Torii Heart delegation space at last.

Mon squinted. ‘…Who?’

Gon leaned forward until he fell of his seat . ‘That’s not Sensei.’

Honey’s jaw dropped. ‘Is that… is that a grown-up model?’

Sumire eyes widen. ‘That is… unacceptable.’

The children stopped rummaging through gifts left by fans and admiring parents alike for Mutsuki. Even Youchan who was fixing Meow’s uniform, paused and stared. Mutsuki stood there as himself.

He covered his face on his entry with hands that looked different. It was large and faintly calloused. No more spell making it look like he had flawless skin. In a way, it spoke of his real work, not performance.

No glamour. No idol polish. No magic meant to charm or distract. Just a man in a simple, well-fitted kimono with a silver-green hair tied back neatly.

Everyone gasped when he finally put his hands down. His face still was undeniably striking, but not in the overwhelming, supernatural way the children remembered. This wasn’t the idol who commanded stadiums. This was someone human.

Meow whispered to Youchan. ‘…I miss the pretty lady.’

Nearby Honey nodded. ‘Me too.’ After thinking about it, added. ‘But this one feels… safe?’

Mutsuki smiled and the children felt it in their chests. ‘You all look ready,’ he said.

They rushed him immediately.

‘Sensei!’

‘Why are you different?!’

‘Are you staying like this?!’

‘Can we touch your face?!’

‘NO TOUCHING,’ Sumire snapped. ‘Unless permitted.’

Mutsuki laughed softly. ‘After your performance.’

All the children held their breath as he walked towards Youchan. Still not having stood up from helping the kids get sorted, Mutsuki had to duck down to match Youchan’s level.

‘This is for you.’ Mutsuki presented Youchan with a bouquet of red roses. ‘Thank you for being my anchor for the duration of the year with these little menaces.’

The kids shouted, freaked out, and damn near exploded and ready to tear their uniforms apart from complicated emotions but Mutsuki was faster. He manifested a barrier on each of them. They all floated like balloons.

Youchan laughed. ‘It’s just like your first day.’

‘Why are you giving flowers as a colleague? We thought you’re going to—-‘

Mutsuki muted the barriers and nobody could hear the profanities and complaints the children were screaming therein.

‘When I started in Torii Hearts, I had moments of panic attack and day dreaming when I remember that I had potentially hurt thousands of innocent people attending my concerts. My family’s disappointment. All of it. On top of falling at sleep on work.’

‘You have been very patient with the kids, and me, Youchan.’ Mutsuki said as he helped her up.

Youchan covered her face. ‘It was my honor working alongside you, Mutsuki-sensei.’

You’re finally decided to control your destiny now huh? My little Mutsuki… Maria thought. Now it’s time to face mine.

After making sure Mutsuki made it to his class fine, Maria finally moved. Officially, she had stepped away for an hour to replace Mutsuki on barrier duties. Unofficially, she stood very still in a service corridor with a muted aura. A skill Mutsuki thought her. It was as good as invisibility.

Maria waited patiently until she felt the change in her pre-existing protective magic.

The interference spell was subtle. It was not meant to disrupt the stage directly or have an effect that was too obvious. It was designed to destabilize the children’s harmonic flow just enough to confuse them mid-performance. Miss a note. Lose synchronization. And then hopefully, would get them upset enough to lash out.

Just a small mischievous magic. Enough to humiliate and to stain the moment. But huge enough to destroy Mutsuki’s credibility.

Maria followed the thread and it led to someone she knew.

A hooded figure stood near the rigging. Her expression was tight and her hands were steady as she adjusted a seal she had no authority to touch. The movements were practiced, intimate. Someone who understood Bureau systems well enough to bend them without tripping alarms. A servant-clan crest gleamed faintly at her collar.

‘Stop,’ Maria warned.

The figure did not flinch. She finished smoothing the seal, adjusted her sleeve, then turned with composed familiarity.

Her smile was controlled and familiar. The same smile she used to wear when she brought Maria tea late at night, when she teased her for taking on too much, when she said she understood.

‘So that’s why no one could locate you near the portals.’ The woman said.

‘I didn’t want to believe that it had been you the whole time,’ Maria said with grave sadness in her face.

Silence stretched. The hood came down. It was Ada. Maria’s girlfriend and bodyguard.

‘It was never about the children. Your cute project for rehabilitation. In fact, I support it. You know that.’ Ada explained. ‘It was about him.’

‘Every crisis. Every leak. Every incident,’ the woman continued. ‘You dropped everything to clean up after him. To find him. To protect him. Even when we were together, you were thinking about Mutsuki.’

Maria said nothing. She tried to find the words but couldn’t.

‘You broke us for him,’ Ada said. ‘So I made sure he never had peace.’

The truth slapped Maria hard. Still, it was her student’s graduation, she had to endure through her broken heart, so she moved and casted her own counter-magic.

Ada retaliated but it was without force. The spell collapsed under her hand. She didn’t resist when restraints formed. She looked tired and relieved somehow as custody seals locked into place. Realization hit Maria as she took her lover’s hand.

Mutsuki’s vampiric infection. The timing of the stadium incident. The moments when containment failed just enough to cause ruin without killing anyone.

‘I love you,’ she said.

‘I know,’ Maria replied. ‘That’s why this hurts.’

She dispelled the magic Ada placed on the stage and activated her communicator with a single motion. She sent a brief situation report to the family council.

Responses flooded in immediately. Disbelief and gratitude. Apologies for Mutsuki. The whole shebang. Maria escorted Ada out of the premises as Mutsuki went on stage flanked by his tiny jumping and cheering students.

‘We are finished, Ada.’ Maria said solemnly as she handed her over to Kuroyanagi security. 

‘I will leave your punishment in Mutsuki’s hands, but knowing him, he won’t take it. The family will decide it then.’ She added.

Onstage, the children’s bright voices rose. They sang their tiny Torii Hearts out. The interference was gone. Their harmony both musical and magically, held. Their song filled the space with courage and trust. The miracle of misfit kids who had learned how to be themselves unapologetically and make everyone around them love them as they are. With human adjustments yes, but all in good compromise.

Mutsuki stood at side of the stage with Youchan. His phone vibrated endlessly in his sleeve. The first apology message from his parents was enough to tell him he doesn’t want the rest of what his family has to say.

Only one thing mattered in his mind. He took Youchan’s hand and presented her with another present. A handcrafted paper bouquet filled with flowers, leaves and letters of all sizes and colors.

‘Did the kids make this?’ Youchan clutched her chest with her free hand. The other one, she used to squeeze Mutsuki’s hand.

‘Un…’ Mutsuki nodded.

Youchan caught a glimpse of one note that said ‘You Are My Home.’

The kids on stage started to sing a different tune. One that they practices in secrecy, behind Youchan’s back.

♪ We came here lost, with hands too full of power ♪

♪ Too loud, too bright, too scared to stay ♪

♪ We tripped on words, on wings, on borrowed courage ♪

♪ But someone waited, never turned away ♪

Mutsuki took Youchan’s hand and placed it on top of his heart. ‘I need to tell you something.’

♪ Some guarded doors, some watched the world from shadows ♪

♪ Held every crack together through the night ♪

♪ While we were learning how to walk as people ♪

Youchan closed the gap between them.

‘When you collapsed half a year ago… I realized I couldn’t watch you carry everything alone.’ Mutsuki whispered to her ear.

Youchan looked away to hide her blush.

♪ We learned that strength can rest instead of shout ♪

♪ That staying does not mean you’re standing still ♪

♪ That hearts can guide us better than our fears ♪ 

♪ If someone believes in us enough to will ♪

‘I went to every torii in Japan,’ he continued. 

‘Every major shrine. Every minor one. Above the mountains and under the oceans. I reinforced all of them. That’s why Kojiro kept running into me 5 months ago during summer break.’

She stared at him with mouth on the floor.

♪ There’s a light that doesn’t burn or blind or dazzle ♪

♪ It doesn’t ask for praise or ask to shine ♪

♪ It warms the path when magic runs too heavy ♪

‘I worked with local yokai. Borrowed strength. Gave mine away. Over and over.’

He waited for Youchan to say something but she only looked at him in happy anticipation and some mild shock. Mutsuki’s explanations matched her family’s accurate report of someone sneaking around and fixing shrine issues all over the country.

♪ We’ll leave these gates with names and futures waiting ♪

♪ With hands no longer shaking when we try ♪

♪ But there’s a place we’ll always come back to ♪

♪ Where someone stayed, and taught us how to fly ♪

‘I am not sure if I ma healed, but I do not feel the effects of being a vampire in my anymore. I used all of that powers, plus my own one. Japan is fortified for a year. At least.’

Youchan dropped the paper flowers in utter shock. That wasn’t a feat humans couldn’t do. The strongest person in the history of Fujikura family could only sustain and protect around 100 shrines at a single time.

‘I don’t have much power left,’ he admitted. 

‘Not much prodigy magic left either. This is baseline Mutsuki.’

He searched her face. ‘I wanted to know if you liked what you saw.’

♪ If growing up means choosing where to stand ♪

♪ And learning when to hold and when to let go ♪

♪ Then everything we are is thanks to you ♪

♪ For loving us enough to let us grow ♪

Youchan, overwhelmed by everything, by Mutsuki’s breath on her neck as he whispered over the children’s beautiful singing, with lyrics appropriately written for a graduation and a love confession for her, could only nod.

Mutsuki smiled wholeheartedly and added. ‘You don’t have to guard shrines alone. You don’t have to stay back anymore.’

♪ If growing up means choosing where to stand ♪

♪ And learning when to hold and when to let go ♪

♪ Then everything we are is thanks to you ♪

♪ For loving us enough to let us grow ♪

‘So… if you’re free now… would you like to go on a proper date with me?’