Countdown

Aoi woke up at Rei’s place, her body on fire.
Every muscle protested, every joint cracked. But it wasn’t the physical pain that disturbed her.

It was the hunger.

A hunger she had never felt before. Not in her stomach—inside her very essence. A devouring urge to absorb something. Emotions. Energy. Life.

Rei’s spiritual hunger.

She slowly sat up, staring at her trembling hands. Through the Resonance, Rei’s memories seeped into her mind like water through cracks.

And something else. A melody. A lullaby. A woman’s voice singing in the dark.

Hikari.

Aoi shook her head, trying to chase the images away.

Rei was still asleep.

It was strange to see him like that—vulnerable, motionless, almost human. Yōkai didn’t really need sleep. But the battle against Tsubasa had drained him completely. The corruption he had absorbed from Akane, combined with the intense use of the Resonance, had exhausted even his centuries-old endurance.

She watched him for a while. The lines of his face. The curve of his lips. The way his ash-blond hair fell over his forehead.

She felt something complex. Hope, fear, yes. But also… completeness.

Rei opened his eyes.

Golden. Luminous. Fixed on her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He sat up with a wince, one hand going to his ribs. The wounds from the day before had healed, but the spiritual fatigue remained.

“Your emotions,” he said softly. “They’re strange. Beautiful… and terrifying at the same time.”

Aoi looked away.

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things.

“I don’t want you to die,” Rei murmured.

The words hung in the air—simple and devastating.

Aoi looked at him. His golden eyes shone with an emotion she now recognized—because she felt it too, through their bond.

“I don’t want you to die either.” She hesitated, then reached for his hand. “I want to stay with you.”

Rei took her hand.

The Resonance pulsed gently between them—not explosive, but warm, comforting. Like a fireplace on a winter night.

They stayed like that for a long time, hand in hand, without speaking.

Outside, Tokyo’s sky had taken on a strange tint. Reddish, even in broad daylight. Shadows moved the wrong way. Clocks were out of sync.

Reality itself was becoming unstable as the ōyūrei drew closer to birth.

***

After crossing a city that seemed to be holding its breath, Rei and Aoi arrived at Kuzunoha’s secret hospital, hidden beneath the basements of an anonymous office building in Meguro.

Yuki, Akane, Ren, and Tsubasa were all there.

They lay in four aligned beds in a white, sterile room, connected to machines measuring things Aoi didn’t understand—spiritual flow, residual corruption, emotional stability. All were awake, recovered, but their faces still bore the marks of their ordeal.

Aoi went to Yuki’s bedside.

“How do you feel?”

“Like someone emptied me out… and then refilled me badly.” Yuki gave a bitter smile.

Her voice was weak, but her eyes shone with a new determination.

The other three nodded. They all understood what she meant.

Rei stayed near the door, arms crossed, watching them. Then he took a breath.

“You’re involved in something bigger than you,” he said. “Bigger than human logic itself.” His voice lowered. “And we need you.”

What followed lasted nearly an hour.

Rei told them everything. His true nature as a kitsune—his tails briefly materialized to emphasize his words, causing gasps and nervous laughter. The existence of yōkai. How they survived by feeding on human emotions. Kageyama and his twisted plan. The ōyūrei that would be born at the Tokyo Idol Festival.

And the Resonance. The impossible bond between him and Aoi that both helped them—and doomed them.

The silence that followed was crushing.

Aoi took over.

She explained their plan. Simple in concept. Desperate in execution.

“You four still have a residual link with the ōyūrei. It fed on you for weeks. That link can be turned against it.”

She paused, searching for the right words.

“If you sing together—not an ordinary song, but something real, something born from your pain and your hope—you might create a counter-frequency. You could weaken the ōyūrei from the inside.”

“Sing?” Ren asked.

“Yes. You weaken it, and while you do, Rei and I will face the ghost king in gestation.”

Silence fell again.

Tsubasa sat up in his bed, wincing in pain.

“And if we refuse?”

Rei answered calmly.

“You’ll die anyway. You’re bound to the ōyūrei—it will consume you sooner or later.” He shrugged. “You can choose to die doing nothing, or maybe die while acting. Either way, the ending isn’t glorious.”

Brutal. Honest.

Yuki was the first to stand.

Her legs shook; she had to grab her bed for support. But her eyes burned with a flame Aoi recognized—the flame of someone who refuses to give up.

“I’m in.” Her voice grew firmer with every word. “I fought to become an idol. I won’t let a ghost end my dreams.”

Akane stood next.

She clenched her fists. “I’d rather die on stage, singing until the end. Not hiding in this basement.”

Ren followed.

“I was shattered into pieces. Literally.” He looked at Aoi. “You put me back together. The least I can do is help you.”

All eyes turned to Tsubasa.

The rapper stayed silent for a long moment. Then he sighed.

“Dying like a hero? That’s so… cliché.” A bitter smile curved his lips. “I hate the idea. But I hate even more the idea of someone else choosing my future for me.”

He stood, unsteady.

“I’ll fight.”

Something warm spread through Aoi’s chest. These four victims—these four survivors—had just become allies.

Rei taught them the basics: how to resist spiritual influence, how to anchor their minds to reality when the ōyūrei tried to lure them. And above all, how to turn their trauma into strength.

Sometimes the four idols flinched, as if pulled by an invisible force. Their gazes drifted east—toward the Tokyo Dome.

The residual bond. The ōyūrei was calling them.

They had to fight that pull every second. And despite it, they kept going. They learned. They prepared.

Tsubasa followed Rei’s lesson in silence, eyes unfocused. A question had been gnawing at him for a while. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough.

“That voice. In my head. Hikari?” He shuddered. “She seemed… to know you.”

Rei’s face closed.

He and Aoi exchanged a glance. Through the Resonance, she felt his hesitation, his pain, his guilt.

He tried to avoid answering—but Kuzunoha chose that moment to appear.

She materialized in the doorway, her white kimono faintly glowing in the gloom. Her usual expression—detached amusement, predatory curiosity—was gone. In its place, something more serious.

“How touching,” she said, observing the group. “Your plan is interesting. But is it genius… or madness?”

Rei tensed.

“Kuzunoha…”

She pulled a file from her sleeve and tossed it onto one of the beds.

“This is the key to Kageyama’s plan.”

Aoi stepped closer and opened it.

Inside, a photo. Slightly faded, colors washed out by time. A sixteen-year-old girl, black hair, radiant smile, eyes shining with ambition and dreams.

Rei froze.

“Tsukino Hikari.”

The name fell into the silence like a stone into water.

All eyes turned to him. Through the Resonance, Aoi felt something twist in her chest—guilt, regret, the pain of a memory he had buried for ten years.

Rei stared at the photo, his face like marble—but Aoi felt the storm of emotions boiling beneath the surface.

Kuzunoha turned to him, her smile almost cruel.

“Care to explain your connection to this young lady, Rei-chan? Or should I do it for you?” Her eyes gleamed. “Our little onmyōji is dying to know. You can feel it too, can’t you?”

Rei closed his eyes.

When he opened them, something had changed. Resignation. Acceptance.

“About ten years ago,” he began, his voice rough…