Medusa

“…So you’re telling me,” Hatsue started, arms folded, brow already twitching, “that Kanzaki has been an exorcist… this entire time?”

“Yep,” Naomi answered, chipper as always.

Hatsue stared blankly.

The sun hung low through the clubroom windows, casting gold over the shelves and old chairs. The school had emptied out. The building was quiet.

Katsuragi hadn’t been seen since lunch.

And now, with time finally on their side, the Occult Club gathered—if not peacefully, then at least… intact.

“And that he’s been going out at night fighting… ghosts?”

“They’re called spectres actually,” Naomi nodded again, a little too casually.

“And that’s the reason this club is called the Occult Club?”

Naomi blinked.

“Well, not exactly. I named it that because… well, I wanted to honor someone. Someone who meant a lot to me.”

“Uh huh.” Hatsue squinted. “So exorcist duties are completely unrelated?”

“Not… exactly,” Honoka added, looking up from her notebook with an elegant smile.

Hatsue exhaled.

Long. Deep. Soul-weary.

“Man… what a Monday.”

Honoka giggled into her sleeve. She looked over toward Eiji, her tone composed.

“Eiji-kun. Ready to lay it out for us? What exactly is Katsuragi?”

Before Eiji could respond, a high-pitched, formal voice piped up from just above him.

“Eiji-dono. If Meh could steal the spotlight for a second…”

In a flicker of light, Meh materialized mid-air, hovering with practiced dignity. The small eyeball floated forward, his tone more serious than usual.

“Meh has completed analysis of the residual spiritual imprint from the rooftop incident,” he said, his voice reverberating faintly through the air around Eiji.

“It is without doubt the work of a possession-class specter… an extremely rare variant.”

Eiji’s brow twitched. “Let’s hear it.”

“A type of tsukimono,” Meh continued, “known as an Akahebi—Crimson Serpent.”

“Sounds familiar,” Eiji muttered.

“As it should. These spirits are born from deep-rooted negative emotion: resentment, rage, inferiority. They possess those whose hearts have been simmering for long enough… and use that instability as a gateway.”

He floated lower, his tone darkening.

“The Akahebi does not implant murderous thoughts. It amplifies what’s already there.”

Naomi and Honoka both listened quietly. Hatsue… just blinked.

“…Are you talking to that floating eyeball you mentioned?” she asked dryly.

Naomi turned and nodded. “Yeah. He says the thing inside Katsuragi is a specter called Akahebi. It feeds off anger and kind of… pulls out the worst in people. It makes them act on thoughts they’d normally suppress.”

“Lovely.” Hatsue folded her arms tighter. “And here I thought we were up against a mischievous kappa.”

Meh continued, undeterred.

“The most dangerous part… is not its influence. It is what happens when the host dies.”

The room quieted.

Honoka’s fingers stilled on her notebook.

“The Akahebi doesn’t die with its host. It severs, like a snake shedding skin, and seeks the next nearest vessel. If it’s already imprinted on others—through shared trauma, emotional proximity, or spiritual affinity—it can transfer instantly.”

Eiji’s jaw tightened. “Meaning if we kill Katsuragi—”

“—It simply moves on. And you may not even know where… until it’s too late.”

Naomi swallowed hard.

“And… the body?” Honoka asked, her voice quieter.

Meh hovered steadily, his tone calm but heavy.

“Their bodies vanish just like those of their victims. Completely. No blood. No remains. No spiritual residue. Camera footage becomes corrupted. Eyewitnesses who did not witness the murder directly will experience memory interference—fragmentation, confusion, or complete omission.”

Naomi blinked, then turned to explain..

“He says unless you see it with your own eyes, you’ll either forget it happened… or remember it wrong.”

Hatsue squinted.

“So it’s not erasing them from existence—just removing the evidence?”

“Indeed,” Meh replied. “If one witnesses the act directly, they retain memory. But even then… the psychological strain is significant.”

“And if he kills again?” Honoka asked.

“You may not know it happened. The victims will vanish—physically, perceptually, and legally.”

Naomi swallowed hard.

“So he could be killing more people already…”

Eiji’s jaw tightened.

“And we’d never know. It’s the ultimate weapon for a serial killer. People could be vanishing left and right and nobody would know.”

“But our classmate… a serial killer?”

Hatsue’s words felt heavy in the atmosphere, lingering.

“Is it possible that Katsuragi would be normal if he wasn’t afflicted by… the Akahebi?” Honoka fell into thought.

“Hm…” Meh mused, “Like Meh said, the specter amplifies already existing tendencies.”

“…Nobody can be sure they’d ever show… ” Naomi said lowly.

“We’re not here for what ifs. The Akahebi exists and Katsuragi is a murderer. He needs to be stopped one way or another.”

“But how, senpai? Do you just blast him like always?”

“Blast? How? You have lasers?” Hatsue raised a brow.

“It’s actually red lighting! Like whoosh—“

“That will not work. Usual exorcist techniques are not effective against the Akahebi variant. Hurting the host does not transfer any damage to the specter…” Meh cut in, “Meh advises consulting Tsubaki Ishii and Gero-sensei.”

“Tsubaki and Gero?” Honoka tilted her head.

“My mentor and her shikigami.”

“Your mentor… and her floating eyeball. Great.” Hatsue sighed.

“Actually it’s a frog. With wings.” Naomi corrected.

⌁◉⌁

The air in Tsubaki’s apartment was warm. A sliding door cracked open to the balcony, where she stood leaning slightly against the frame—cigarette between her fingers, black yukata loose around her shoulders.

She took a long drag, exhaled, and eyed the four teenagers lined up across her room like nervous suspects.

“So? Care to explain why you brought your girlfriend candidates with you?”

“WHA—?!” Hatsue recoiled, nearly knocking over a floor cushion.

“E-E-E-EH?! I-I’m not—I mean I could be? Maybe?” Naomi stammered, caught in a tangle of arms, blushing so hard she nearly caught fire.

Honoka just laughed softly behind her hand. “That’s quite the opening statement.”

Eiji sighed, shoulders heavy. “Enough joking around.”

He stepped forward.

“What do you know about the Akahebi variant of tsukimono specters?”

Tsubaki’s playful smirk vanished.

“…Akahebi?”

She muttered the name like it had a bitter aftertaste.

“That’s serious.”

Just then, her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and clicked her tongue.

“Tch. I just got off work, what do they want now…”

She walked off to the next room, sliding the door shut behind her.

Left in the silence, the girls glanced around the room. Old exorcist texts lined the walls. A framed photograph of middle school Eiji istood beside a dusty tea set.

“…Is this where you grew up?” Honoka asked.

Eiji shrugged, half-turning toward the hall. “…Mostly.”

“Oh, I know everything about this place!” Naomi said proudly, puffing up like a cat who caught a bug. “I’ve been here for sooo many days!”

“…Why?” Hatsue asked flatly.

Naomi froze. Blinked. And grinned with full gremlin guilt.

“Oops. Why did I say that?”

Honoka shot her a look. Naomi immediately pulled out her phone and started scrolling through imaginary apps.

The door slid open again, and Tsubaki returned, flicking ash into a ceramic tray before collapsing onto the couch opposite them.

She crossed one leg over the other.

“You’re dealing with an Akahebi, huh?”

A ripple of silence passed through the group.

“You’ll need an expert.”

A blur of green flopped onto the table with a low ribbit.

“Well, it’s about damn time someone asked.”

Eiji sighed. “Here we go again…”

He really didn’t like that frog.

Standing proudly in the center of the kotatsu table was Gero the shikigami.

“What happened?” Hatsue leaned to whisper to Naomi, palm covering her mouth.

Naomi leaned closer, “Gero the frog just appeared.”

“Listen here, young-ones. If you’ve got an Akahebi on your hands,” Gero said, puffing his chest, “then you’ve got a Class-A jump-spirit. Extermination? Not happening. Not by normal means.”

The teens all leaned in.

“I don’t know what that means but it sounds super cool!” Naomi grinned.

“Which means,” Gero croaked, “you’ll need to perform a Dream Inquest Ritual.”

Tsubaki nodded slowly. “A dream dive in simpler terms..”

Gero’s eyes flicked to each of them as Naomi leaned over, whispering the explanation to Hatsue.

“You require three roles. The Shaman, to stabilize the tether. The Auditor, to navigate the layered consciousness. And Divers… those who will enter the host’s mind and confront the Akahebi directly.”

“You may send more than one. I suggest it. The ritual only fails if every diver is erased.”

Naomi turned pale. “E-Erased?!”

“If you fail, yes.” He nodded sagely. “Though I imagine some of you will scream first.”

“I bet he’s talking about Senpai.”

“Oi.”

“To enter the dreamscape, you must acquire a relic of resonance—something tethered to the host’s self.”

Everyone sighed all at once.

“Great…” Naomi slumped. “We’re gonna have to steal his schoolbag!”

Tsubaki narrowed her eyes, “As a member of the police force I’ll act like I didn’t hear that.”

Naomi looked away, whistling merrily.

“The Akahebi feeds off the darkness already present in its vessel. And when it’s done… it devours everything left behind.”

He opened one eye.

“Time is not your ally.”

Tsubaki leaned in, lowering her tone.

“The Akahebi is known for… amplifying murderous tendencies. Has the host killed?”

The room tensed. They all nodded.

“Who is he? And who did he kill?” Tsubaki asked.

“He is Kanzaki’s and my classmate, his name Is Shinichiro Katsuragi.” Hatsue replied before drawing in a shaky breath, “…And he killed Yoshie Matsuoka.”

Tsubaki’s gaze sharpened. She exhaled, leaning back. “I’ll check the police logs. If he’s got even one criminal incident, we might be able to get an arrest order issued—buy us time.”

She stood again, already tapping her phone.

“As for the shaman, I’ll call one in now. I know someone in town.”

She walked into the other room again, this time with purpose. The club remained seated around the kotatsu in thoughtful quiet.

“Well…” Naomi muttered, “so much for a relaxing week.”

“I’ll say,” Hatsue sighed, brushing hair behind her ear. “Can’t believe we’re talking about dream rituals in a stranger’s apartment…”

“Welcome to the occult club.” Honoka grinned.

Tsubaki slid the door open again.

“Lucky you, our shaman is in the area and coming by. As for the auditor—“

“I am,” Honoka cut in. They all turned. She raised a hand, calmly.

“I’m an Auditor.”

“Oooooh! That’s right! An auditor is that thing where you can hear stuff!” Naomi nodded.

“You knew that.” Eiji said, as Tsubaki took her seat and sighed.

“So that’s the one who had the yakubyo-gami in her necklace.” Tsubaki jabbed a thumb toward Eiji. “Is that why you’re tagging along with this idiot?”

“I’m here because I want to help,” Honoka said softly after a chuckle..

Tsubaki’s expression softened for a brief moment. She nodded once.

“Fair enough.”

Then her doorbell rang.

She walked over and opened it.

A tall man stepped into the room—gray doctor’s coat still on, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, glasses askew on his nose. He had black short middle parted hair, neatly arranged and soft green eyes.

“Masaki Takenaka.” Tsubaki greeted him, and turned to the kids, who were momentarily stunned.

“Take…naka?” Naomi repeated, furrowing her brows, “Honoka-senpai isn’t that your—“

“Dad?” Honoka’s eyes widened.

“…Honoka?” The man froze as well.

Honoka stood up sharply. Everyone turned at once.

Eiji’s stare remained the same, yet his tone changed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Hatsue stared, completely lost.

“…WHAT?!”

Masaki Takenaka blinked, stunned silent. Then finally, with the smallest, breathless laugh:

“…So this is what you’ve been up to, huh?”

⌁◉⌁

The kotatsu table had been cleared. A fresh pot of tea steamed gently in the center. The room glowed with the amber of late afternoon, and for the first time in a while… everything was quiet.

Masaki Takenaka took a slow sip from his cup.

“I still can’t believe you’re involved with exorcists, Honoka.”

Honoka, seated beside him, folded her hands neatly in her lap.

“I can’t believe you’re a shaman either, Dad.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—nostalgia, maybe. Regret, too.

“I left for work abroad because I didn’t want you or your mother caught up in my world. It’s not the kind of life you choose for your family. It’s one you escape… or try to.”

He paused, setting down his cup.

“When I heard about your mother I… I realized how much I was missing from your life. That’s why I returned. I thought I had shielded you from all this but I guess fate had other plans. Looks like it pulled you in… in your own way.”

Honoka nodded.

“Dad… I’m doing this because I want to help. My friends… the people I’ve met through this—” her eyes flicked briefly to Eiji, then Naomi and Hatsue, “—they matter to me.”

Masaki followed her gaze, landing on the exorcist across the table.

He smiled warmly.

“Kanzaki-kun. Thank you. For saving my daughter from the Yakubyo-gami.”

Eiji looked away, “I didn’t do anything worth noting.”

Masaki chuckled. “One day, I’ll repay that debt to you.”

Before Eiji could reply, Tsubaki chimed in from behind him, arms crossed.

“You already did enough. You’re the one who treated him after the Crimson Covenant.”

Eiji turned sharply.

“You—”

Masaki reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

“Ah. That reminds me.”

He handed it over to Eiji.

“Your blood test results. Sorry they took so long—I ran them twice myself to be sure.”

Eiji stared at the envelope, completely thrown, “How did you…”

Tsubaki smirked.

“The clinic I sent you to? That’s Masaki’s.”

Masaki gave a modest shrug.

“It was passed down to me, actually. It operated very rarely when I was overseas, but now that I’m back… it’s active again.”

Honoka arched a brow for the first time, a rare hint of surprise cracking through her composed features.

“My, my… what a small world we live in.”

“You’re the owner of that clinic?! I have a few complaints to make about your staff—“

“Sit down.”

Eiji closed her mouth shut with his palm and pulled her down before she could kick up a fuss.

Masaki sipped his tea again, calm, yet amused.

“I’ll help you with the ritual, of course. Especially since my daughter will be participating.”

Everyone nodded at once.

“When you find the object connected to the host, you’re all welcome to our home to perform the rite.”

Naomi shot up with both hands in the air.

“SLEEPOVER!”

Tsubaki pinched the bridge of her nose.

Masaki, however, turned solemn once more.

“I’m grateful to all of you—for being there for Honoka. But especially you, Kanzaki-kun.”

He looked Eiji dead in the eyes.

“I hope you take good care of her… and make her happy.”

There was a pause.

And then—

“D-Dad…!” Honoka sputtered, her face blooming crimson for the first time any of them had ever seen. “It’s not like that between us! You’re embarrassing me…”

Masaki simply chuckled, sipping his tea like a man who’d said exactly what he meant.

“Wow… new rival unlocked.” Naomi side-eyed Honoka.

Eventually, the group began to gather their things, the warmth of the kotatsu fading into the evening.

Outside the apartment, the sky had darkened to deep blue.

One by one, they stepped out.

Naomi skipped down the hall first. Hatsue followed with her arms crossed and muttering something about cursed frogs. Honoka lingered just a little, bowing deeply to her father before slipping her shoes on.

Eiji was last.

But before he could step out the door, Tsubaki’s hand grabbed his sleeve.

She leaned in close.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, dragging these girls into danger.”

Eiji didn’t flinch.

“I tried to tell them. They won’t listen.”

Tsubaki sighed through her nose.

“Then you better take care of them.”

He gave a slight nod.

And stepped out,

“That’s the plan.”