Chapter 9: Suites and Spirit

Yuki felt his soul leave his body. “We have to go in there?”

“The cult’s safehouse is an abandoned annex located beneath the cliff,” Aya explained, pulling her dress back on over her swimsuit. “The original maintenance tunnels for the hotel connect to the annex’s basement. It is the only point of entry that is not magically warded.”

She looked at him. “We need a room to access the maintenance shaft.”

“But… we’re… I mean…” Yuki stammered, his face burning hotter than the sunburn on his shoulders.

“It is a tactical necessity,” Aya said. She stepped close to him, fixing his collar. “Do not freeze up, Yuki. You are playing a role. Can you do that?”

Yuki looked at the neon castle. He looked at Aya.

“I… I’ll try.”

The lobby of the Mermaid’s Grotto was an assault on the senses of a different kind. Everything was pink, velvet, or mirrored. Soft, jazzy saxophone music played over the speakers.

Aya didn't hesitate. As soon as they walked through the automatic doors, she latched onto Yuki’s arm. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her body pressing against his.

“Oh, darling, look!” she cooed, her voice pitched higher than normal. “They have the underwater theme available! Isn't that romantic?”

Yuki was stiff as a board. He walked like a robot that had rusted at the joints. “Y-Yeah. Great. Underwater. Love it.”

They approached the front desk. The clerk, a bored-looking man with a mustache, looked up. He took in Aya’s beauty, then looked at Yuki’s terrified expression. He smirked.

“Rest, or stay?” he asked.

“A short stay,” Aya giggled, tracing a finger down Yuki’s arm. “We just want to… relax for a few hours.”

Yuki wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He handed over the cash Aya had given him earlier, his hand shaking.

“Room 304,” the clerk said, sliding a key card across the counter. He gave Yuki a wink that made Yuki want to die. “Enjoy the… atmosphere.”

They rode the elevator in silence. The walls were mirrored. Yuki stared at his shoes. Aya watched the floor numbers, her expression neutral again.

Room 304 was exactly as advertised. The bed was round and shaped like a clam shell. The wallpaper featured dolphins. The ceiling was entirely mirrored.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Aya dropped Yuki’s arm instantly. She walked to the center of the room, scanning the corners.

“Secure,” she stated. “No cameras in the room itself. Only in the hallway.”

Yuki collapsed onto the edge of the clam-shell bed, burying his face in his hands.

“Your performance was adequate,” Aya said, unbothered. She moved to the wardrobe and opened it. “The access panel should be behind here.”

She pushed the false back of the wardrobe aside, revealing a dusty, narrow maintenance panel. She pried it open with a small tool from her bag.

Beyond lay a dark, concrete corridor that smelled of mold and stagnant water.

“The tunnel,” she said. “Yuki, I need you to loop the hallway cameras. If we enter the maintenance shaft, an alert will trigger at the front desk.”

Yuki took a deep breath. He slapped his cheeks. Work mode. Focus.

He pulled out his laptop. “Connecting to the hotel Wi-Fi. It’s unsecure, obviously.” His fingers flew across the keys. “I’m in the local subnet. Finding the CCTV server… got it. I’m freezing the feed for the third-floor corridor. We have a ten-minute loop.”

“Good.”

Aya raised her hand. “Imago Fallax.”

A shimmer of air settled over them. “Visual distortion,” she explained. “Just in case. Let’s go.”

They stepped through the wardrobe and into the darkness.

The corridor was damp and silent, a stark contrast to the jazzy music of the hotel room. It sloped downward, carving through the rock of the cliff.

Aya held up her hand. “Lumen Oculis.”

A soft, green light washed over Yuki’s vision. Night vision. He could see the dripping pipes and the cracked concrete floor.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. The air grew colder.

“You did well back there,” Aya said softly, her voice echoing slightly. “At the check-in.”

“I almost had a heart attack,” Yuki admitted.

“You handled the… intimacy… better than I expected,” she said. She glanced at him sideways. “Considering you are so meek when I invited you to my house.”

Yuki flushed. “I thought that was a date! And then I met your parents in a dungeon.”

Aya stopped. She turned to face him in the narrow tunnel. The green magical light made her eyes look eerie.

“And if it had been?” she asked.

Yuki blinked. “What?”

“If my parents hadn't been there,” Aya said, her voice unreadable. She took a step closer. The tunnel was tight; there was nowhere to back up. “If I had actually invited you over for… romantic reasons. Would you have come?”

She was testing him. Yuki realized it instantly. She was checking for weakness, checking if his "feelings" were going to compromise the mission.

He looked at her. He thought about the bikini. He thought about the hand-holding. He thought about Rina.

He straightened his spine.

“No,” he said firmly. “I wouldn't have.”

Aya raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because,” Yuki said, “this is a contract. Strictly business. You promised to protect me. I promised to help you. I don't break my contracts.”

He held her gaze. It was the most confident thing he had ever said to her.

Aya stared at him for a long beat. Then, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Good answer,” she whispered. “You pass.”

She turned back to the tunnel. “Let’s move.”

Yuki let out a shaky breath. He wasn't sure if he had passed a test, or failed an opportunity.

They reached the end of the tunnel. A heavy iron door stood before them. It was slightly ajar.

Aya held up a hand. “Wait.”

She pushed the door open with the toe of her boot.

Beyond lay a large, circular chamber. It looked like an old storage cellar, carved into the rock.

It was empty.

Completely, utterly empty. No crates. No computers. No cultists.

Aya walked into the center of the room. She spun around, her eyes scanning the floor, the walls.

“It’s empty,” Yuki whispered. “Did they move?”

“No,” Aya said. Her voice was tight. “If the Order had moved, there would be marks. Scratches on the floor from crates. Dust patterns. Trash.”

She knelt down, touching the stone floor.

“And there would be residue,” she said. “Magic leaves a stain. Even if you clean it. But this…”

She looked up at Yuki, her eyes wide with a dawning horror.

“It’s clean,” she said. “Sterilized. There isn't a single trace of magical energy in this entire room. It’s like a vacuum.”

She crawled forward a few inches. Something caught her eye near the corner of the room.

A small strip of paper.

She picked it up.

It was a white rectangle of paper, cut into a zigzag pattern. A single line of black calligraphy ran down the center.

An Ofuda. A paper talisman.

Aya’s hand trembled.

“What is it?” Yuki asked, stepping closer. “Is that the Order’s?”

“No,” Aya whispered. The blood had drained from her face.

“The Order uses Western glyphs. Geometry. This…” She held up the paper. “This is Kannagara no Michi. The Way of the Gods.”

She stood up, stumbling back as if the paper burned her.

“The Onmyoryo Bureau,” she breathed. “The government.”

Yuki felt a chill that had nothing to do with the damp tunnel. “The Bureau? The ones who maintain the Veil?”

“They were here,” Aya said, her voice rising in panic. “They found the stash before we did. And they didn't just take it. They purified it. They erased it from existence.”

She looked around the empty room with terrified eyes.

“The Bureau doesn't arrest people, Yuki. They exorcise them. They treat rogue mages like spiritual pollution.”

She grabbed Yuki’s arm. Her grip was painful.

“We have to go,” she hissed. “Now. If they left a sensor… if they know we’re here…”

“Run.”

They didn't walk back. They sprinted.

They tore through the dark tunnel, ignoring the stealth, ignoring the silence. Aya’s breathing was ragged. Yuki’s lungs burned.

They burst back into the hotel room through the wardrobe. Aya kicked the panel shut and dragged a heavy dresser in front of it.

She ran to the hotel room door and threw the deadbolt. Then she bit her thumb, drawing blood, and slammed her hand against the wood.

“Claudere!” she screamed.

A red seal flared on the door, then faded.

She backed away, collapsing onto the clam-shell bed, her chest heaving. She looked small. Scared.

“They are hunting,” she whispered, staring at the door. “The Order was a nuisance. The Bureau… the Bureau is an apex predator. If they find us…”

The silence in the room was suffocating. The jazzy saxophone music had stopped.

Bzzt.

The sound was like a gunshot.

Yuki jumped. It was his phone.

He pulled it out of his pocket, his hands shaking. He expected an alarm.

He looked at the screen.

LunarPaladin (Rina): Hey Yuki... I've been waiting online for an hour. Are you okay? You promised.

Yuki stared at the text.

He looked at the terrified witch on the bed. He looked at the warded door. He thought about the government hit squad that erased magic like it was dirt.

And then he looked at the text message from the girl who just wanted to play a video game with her friend.

He sank to the floor, the phone glowing in the dark room.

He was trapped in a love hotel with a target on his back, hiding from the secret police of the magical world.

And he was late for his guild raid.

“I’m sorry, Rina,” he whispered to the screen.

He didn't reply. He couldn't.

Outside the window, the ocean roared, indifferent to the tiny, terrified lives inside the neon castle.